From One Companion to the Next
The Worst Time of the Fucking Year
September 6,
"Dear Diary, here we, are eight years to the day since Oliver, my shiny, loyal, retriever, was taken from me, and the wound still feels fresh. As fresh as if the memory of him being run over by that ford had just been re carved into my heart that night, I can still remember everything- every sight, the moon glinting brighter than i had ever witnessed, every smell, the dense foggy grass that thickened in my lungs, every thought, every word and every feeling, emotional as well as physical. I wish I didn't have to think about it. I tried so fucking hard not too. i wish I didn't have to miss a fucking dog this much. It was "only a dog" they liked to say. but no one really understands, do they? And I desperately wished that I didn't have to see the fucker responsible for Oliver's death today, but I had to go to school, against my free will, and therefore had to see him, Gerard Way. Every time I see him I can't help but see Oliver's dead body lying motionless in the middle of the suburban street. Its an image that is forever sowed into the memory of that prick. I don't know why I'm still so inconsolably distraught over my dog that died so long ago. I mean fuck it was 8 years. Perhaps it's all the possibilities that were lost with his life : going for a run with him on a warm spring day, having my significant other give him a bone for Christmas, or having him shake his fur off after a swim on a hot summer day. It was absolute torture having to see Gerard every day at school, especially today. All the same, I must bid you adieu, Diary, and face the reality of high school. Wouldn't want people thinking I am emotionally troubled, now would we?" I snapped closed my beaten and withered brown, leather diary and clasped the belt buckle surrounding it tightly shut. "Deep breaths" I whispered to myself.
I stepped out of my beat up old Ford Escort, my feet heavy with dread and invisible despair. I replaced my car stereo with small red earbuds that produced Smashing Pumpkins blasting in my ears. I kept my gaze on my feet, my walk brisk, and my hands close. hoping to avoid any, but preferably, all communication that I possibly could- there was no one on this earth that I wanted to talk to today. I didn't even bother to call my mom this morning, yeah I'm fucked up I know. Don't give me shit about this.
I was toying with the idea of just leaving this hell hole called highschool (oh god i'm so cliché.) and sitting in some godforsaken indie chic coffee shop until it was the proper time for me to return home as I reached the steps in front of the entrance to hell; I called them the Steps of Styx as a small joke to myself. I knew that hell would burn hotter today than it would any other day of the year.
As i made my way silently up the cold, gray, steps, spotted with circles of black gum hanging on it, i Suddenly found myself falling to the hard concrete, being pushed by another anonymous body that Seemed to be falling along with me. My earbuds were viciously being torn from my hears, pulling my sacred stream of music to an abrupt halt and forcing me to become aware of the world around me, particularly the harsh laughter and even more harsh words emanating from the top of the steps from several scummy mouths and the crushing weight of another human being desperately trying to find his way off of me, mumbling a stream of curse words. After several failed attempts at standing up, the unidentified individual decided to roll off of me with an incoherent groan, inducing another round of insufferable laughter from the degenerates I called classmates at the top of the concrete stairs.
"Look at that!" One voice yelled. "Two faggots at once!" Their laughter grew louder at the "observation". I couldn't take it- no, I simply refused to stand for this, especially today. I made my way to a standing position and took off up the steps, taking them two at a time. Not even bothering to take in their appearance because this was just another step in my day.
"Listen here, you little asshole," I said getting right in his face. My nose dangerously close to hitting his chin. Being as I was 5'. "Don't you dare fuck with me. If you ever call me a name like that or are the reason that I fall down again I swear on all that is good, you will regret it." I spit in his face to make my point more clear and commanded, "now get the fuck out of here." Being the cowards they are, him and his friends obliged by running away from the scene. Literally. I was glad they did, though, because it was getting extremely hard to resist the urge to knock a few of his pretty, white teeth out of his stupid little mouth. This was how it went almost every day. Tease the outcasts. The ones that seemed the weakest. Well I wasn't fucking weak.
I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes for a quick second before I turned back to see who their original target was and gasped at the sight of none other than Gerard goddamn Way lying in a black heap on the hard ground. Of fucking course it was him, the one person that I wanted to avoid the most today. Pushed into me. writhing in pain. Fucking great. I walked back down the steps, there were ten of them - I counted, and stopped right next to his frail, hurt figure. I wasn't planning on helping him up, though; as far as I'm concerned he deserved it..."Get this straight, Way," I said contemptuously, taking in his disheveled look and long black hair framing his pale white face, " you're fucking lucky it was their fault you ran into me." he looked up at me through the pain I could see he was feeling. His eyes settled on my jawline. Eye contact wasn't something he could keep. Well fuck it, I think I got my point across rather eloquently, but he didn't respond in any way.
I put my ear buds back into my ears and walked, step heavier than it was before, back to my car, and drove until I found a small coffeehouse. At the corner of Nile St. i parked my car in the lot of one called Adelaide's Cup, killed the engine and sat quietly as my tear ducts greeted me with a saltwater facial. The heater that was slowly fading was steadily melting away the residue. i didn't want to cry like this, I felt so stupid, but how could I not? This was the eight year anniversary of the death of my best friend who just so happened to be a dog, and I had gotten fucking Gerard Way pushed on top of me. That wasn't even fucking all. I couldn't even help my own mother out of what she was going through. It was too much. It felt like everything was resting on my shoulders, slowly putting more weight on me. It was getting hard to breath, and I was completely and totally alone in the world as I had, quite frankly, always been. I sighed deeply, not wanting to be here but not wanting to be at school or at home or at any other coffeehouse. The only place I really wanted to be was in my grave. Oh how emo I sounded right now.
Happy anniversary, Oli.
"Dear Diary, here we, are eight years to the day since Oliver, my shiny, loyal, retriever, was taken from me, and the wound still feels fresh. As fresh as if the memory of him being run over by that ford had just been re carved into my heart that night, I can still remember everything- every sight, the moon glinting brighter than i had ever witnessed, every smell, the dense foggy grass that thickened in my lungs, every thought, every word and every feeling, emotional as well as physical. I wish I didn't have to think about it. I tried so fucking hard not too. i wish I didn't have to miss a fucking dog this much. It was "only a dog" they liked to say. but no one really understands, do they? And I desperately wished that I didn't have to see the fucker responsible for Oliver's death today, but I had to go to school, against my free will, and therefore had to see him, Gerard Way. Every time I see him I can't help but see Oliver's dead body lying motionless in the middle of the suburban street. Its an image that is forever sowed into the memory of that prick. I don't know why I'm still so inconsolably distraught over my dog that died so long ago. I mean fuck it was 8 years. Perhaps it's all the possibilities that were lost with his life : going for a run with him on a warm spring day, having my significant other give him a bone for Christmas, or having him shake his fur off after a swim on a hot summer day. It was absolute torture having to see Gerard every day at school, especially today. All the same, I must bid you adieu, Diary, and face the reality of high school. Wouldn't want people thinking I am emotionally troubled, now would we?" I snapped closed my beaten and withered brown, leather diary and clasped the belt buckle surrounding it tightly shut. "Deep breaths" I whispered to myself.
I stepped out of my beat up old Ford Escort, my feet heavy with dread and invisible despair. I replaced my car stereo with small red earbuds that produced Smashing Pumpkins blasting in my ears. I kept my gaze on my feet, my walk brisk, and my hands close. hoping to avoid any, but preferably, all communication that I possibly could- there was no one on this earth that I wanted to talk to today. I didn't even bother to call my mom this morning, yeah I'm fucked up I know. Don't give me shit about this.
I was toying with the idea of just leaving this hell hole called highschool (oh god i'm so cliché.) and sitting in some godforsaken indie chic coffee shop until it was the proper time for me to return home as I reached the steps in front of the entrance to hell; I called them the Steps of Styx as a small joke to myself. I knew that hell would burn hotter today than it would any other day of the year.
As i made my way silently up the cold, gray, steps, spotted with circles of black gum hanging on it, i Suddenly found myself falling to the hard concrete, being pushed by another anonymous body that Seemed to be falling along with me. My earbuds were viciously being torn from my hears, pulling my sacred stream of music to an abrupt halt and forcing me to become aware of the world around me, particularly the harsh laughter and even more harsh words emanating from the top of the steps from several scummy mouths and the crushing weight of another human being desperately trying to find his way off of me, mumbling a stream of curse words. After several failed attempts at standing up, the unidentified individual decided to roll off of me with an incoherent groan, inducing another round of insufferable laughter from the degenerates I called classmates at the top of the concrete stairs.
"Look at that!" One voice yelled. "Two faggots at once!" Their laughter grew louder at the "observation". I couldn't take it- no, I simply refused to stand for this, especially today. I made my way to a standing position and took off up the steps, taking them two at a time. Not even bothering to take in their appearance because this was just another step in my day.
"Listen here, you little asshole," I said getting right in his face. My nose dangerously close to hitting his chin. Being as I was 5'. "Don't you dare fuck with me. If you ever call me a name like that or are the reason that I fall down again I swear on all that is good, you will regret it." I spit in his face to make my point more clear and commanded, "now get the fuck out of here." Being the cowards they are, him and his friends obliged by running away from the scene. Literally. I was glad they did, though, because it was getting extremely hard to resist the urge to knock a few of his pretty, white teeth out of his stupid little mouth. This was how it went almost every day. Tease the outcasts. The ones that seemed the weakest. Well I wasn't fucking weak.
I took in a deep breath and closed my eyes for a quick second before I turned back to see who their original target was and gasped at the sight of none other than Gerard goddamn Way lying in a black heap on the hard ground. Of fucking course it was him, the one person that I wanted to avoid the most today. Pushed into me. writhing in pain. Fucking great. I walked back down the steps, there were ten of them - I counted, and stopped right next to his frail, hurt figure. I wasn't planning on helping him up, though; as far as I'm concerned he deserved it..."Get this straight, Way," I said contemptuously, taking in his disheveled look and long black hair framing his pale white face, " you're fucking lucky it was their fault you ran into me." he looked up at me through the pain I could see he was feeling. His eyes settled on my jawline. Eye contact wasn't something he could keep. Well fuck it, I think I got my point across rather eloquently, but he didn't respond in any way.
I put my ear buds back into my ears and walked, step heavier than it was before, back to my car, and drove until I found a small coffeehouse. At the corner of Nile St. i parked my car in the lot of one called Adelaide's Cup, killed the engine and sat quietly as my tear ducts greeted me with a saltwater facial. The heater that was slowly fading was steadily melting away the residue. i didn't want to cry like this, I felt so stupid, but how could I not? This was the eight year anniversary of the death of my best friend who just so happened to be a dog, and I had gotten fucking Gerard Way pushed on top of me. That wasn't even fucking all. I couldn't even help my own mother out of what she was going through. It was too much. It felt like everything was resting on my shoulders, slowly putting more weight on me. It was getting hard to breath, and I was completely and totally alone in the world as I had, quite frankly, always been. I sighed deeply, not wanting to be here but not wanting to be at school or at home or at any other coffeehouse. The only place I really wanted to be was in my grave. Oh how emo I sounded right now.
Happy anniversary, Oli.
Notes
This was the second chapter that had already been uploaded. Comments and Subscriptions and Votes are as adored as my fish (which is an unprecidented amount, I might add).xo Bunny
6/9/13