The World is Ugly

"What?"
"I don't have time to elaborate." She stuck her head out the doorway, looking around to make sure no one saw us. "You're not even supposed to be in here. I don't know why you were let past the front desk, anyways." She grabbed my hand and pulled me out, slamming the door behind us.
"What the hell do you mean?"
"Sir, please. You have to leave."
"NO! Tell me what you mean by there isn't much of a chance she'll wake up?"
"Lower your voice," she hissed.
"I will not. Not until you tell me what you mean."
She sighed. "Rose was in a car accident. Hit-and-run. Witnesses claim the driver was speeding, believed to be at least 50 miles per hour in a 20 MPH area. Caused severe whiplash in the neck. She fell forward at a great velocity. Her coma is brought on by cranial injuries from a concussio--"
"That's enough," I whispered. Tears were forming in my eyes.
"Please leave now."
I complied, turning on my heel and practically sprinting out of the hospital.
"Gerard, are you okay?" Mikey called as I pushed past him, to my car. I didn't reply, but he grabbed my arm. "Gee, you okay?"
Suddenly, all my tears spilled. I became a sputtering, sobbing mess, and Mikey held me close. The rest of the guys stood behind me, their hands rubbing my back in an attempt to comfort me. I stood there for a few minutes, enveloped by my brother's arms. But soon enough, a nurse busted through the front door of the hospital. "Way, Toro, and Iero?" she asked us four. I pulled away, sniffling, and nodded. "You guys can see her now."

As we approached the wooden door label 646, I suddenly felt nauseous again. I wanted to see her, to hear an official statement from a doctor and not a rule-breaking nurse, but I knew I couldn't go in there. I stopped in my tracks as Ray turned the door handle. "Gerard, c'mon!" Frankie called.
"I-I..." I sighed. I have to see her. I hesitantly stepped forward, into the room. Rose was in the same position, her breathing still ragged, her pulse still slow. The nausea remained, so I stayed close to the door, where the trashcan was. A tall man in a white coat with graying hair stood next to her bed, scribbling something on a clipboard. He looked up at our group and smiled weakly.
"Evening, I'm Dr. Ballato," he told us. "You all are...?"
"Frank Iero, friend."
"Ray Toro, same."
"Mikey Way, friend."
I cleared my throat before replying. "Gerard Way. Legal guardian and boyfriend."
"Legal guardian and significant other? That's quite..."
"Family troubles." I said. He nodded his head and turned to Rose.
"So, would you like to hear of her condition?" he asked to no one in particular. All the guys nodded. I simply stared at my feet. I already knew.
"As you know, she was in a hit-and-run. Witnesses claim...." I tuned out his voice. I felt like breaking out into tears. This isn't real, I kept telling myself. I'm going to wake up any second now, in the hotel room. Rose is going to be snuggled up beside me, snoring away. I know it.

I pinch myself very quickly to see if my theory is correct, but when I open my eyes I'm still staring at the linoleum floor of a hospital room. I look up to see the forlorn faces of my friends. Tears are streaming down Frankie's face, while Mikey and Ray just look anywhere but at Rose. The doctor clears his throat obnoxiously loud before leaving the room. I push past my friends and out the door. I can hear them calling for me, asking me where I'm going, but I'm too set on my current thoughts to reply. I find my way out of the hospital and to my car, jamming the keys into the ignition. As I drive, my hands grip the steering wheel. I could practically rip it off with the amount of force. I eventually find my destination and park the car out front. I slam the car door and stomp inside. The first thing that greets me is the now comforting smell of alcohol. I take a seat at the bar.
"Good evening, sir," says a waiter with a thick Bronx accent. "What would you like today?"
"A few rounds of your strongest liquor, please."

Notes