Seven years ago I left my home. I didn’t leave on good terms with my family - I’m sure they all hated me at the end. Seven years ago was also the last time I saw them. Now, they have no idea where I am, or how much of a success their “disappointment” of a son is.

My name’s Gerard Way, and this is my story.

I left on Christmas Eve, in the middle of our Christmas dinner. It’s hard to pinpoint the exact reason, but it could be one of the three things that happened that day.

First of all, I brought my girlfriend to dinner (her parents pretty much disowned her without a second thought) and I didn’t want her to be alone on the holiday. My family had never met her formally up until I brought her in the door, but almost immediately they hated her. They hated all of my girlfriend’s, which is why I never brought them home.

Second thing that could’ve caused my departure is that I got in a fight with my cousin, Kevin. He’d been calling my girlfriend names (like whore, bitch, etc...) and was grabbing at her and treating her like garbage. I did what any loving boyfriend would do and stood up for her, and punched him in the face, successfully breaking his nose. When I went into to take another swing, though, he moved and my hand hit the wall. I ended up breaking my dominant hand and putting a hole in the wall.

The third thing would probably be that at dinner my girlfriend helped cut up my food for me (bad hand and all) which wasn’t bad at all, I really didn’t mind, it was nice being pampered a little. But then, Kevin started calling me names along with going back to verbally abusing my girlfriend. She tried to shrug it off, but I saw the hurt in her eyes. I stood up and my chair went flying and I tackled my cousin and sent us both to the floor.

That’s when my mom finally stepped in and yelled at me for being childish. Stop right there. So my cousin can verbally abuse me but when I take a stand against it, it’s the worst thing in the universe? Guess I know who’s the favorite kid. The two of us got in a yelling match while everyone tried to ignore us and go back to eating. My mom yelled about how much of a disappointment and disgrace I was, and how I’d never have a successful future. I yelled at her about how much she hated me and stuff like that. It went on for a good three minutes before my father stepped in and took my mother’s side, of course, and told my girlfriend and I to leave.

So we did.

I took my girlfriend’s hand and we went to pack a bag of my clothes and left the house without a word. I didn’t even bother looking at my brother, who I thought would stand up for me but didn’t.

My girlfriend and I left that night and over the course of many weeks we found a city and house we liked and moved in with our meager belongings.

You might be wondering how we supported ourselves. It wasn’t easy. As we moved farther north, we’d stop in a town for a few days and I’d take up work to get enough to get us by until the next town. It wasn’t ideal, but when your family kicked you out, you didn’t start acting like a pampered little princess now did you?

To put it simply, after Christmas Eve we were on our own.

Once we moved in, we both got jobs right away. My girlfriend worked from home, deciding to take up her passion of art so she could sell it for money, which took ages to take off. I found a job as a lawyer (the only good thing my parents ever did was send me to law school).

Now, it’s not like I didn’t plan on marrying my girlfriend - I did. I loved her so much, but we had to wait. The two of us wanted to have an actual ceremony, and really, to have that, we needed to have friends so people could show up. I married her before our daughter had her first birthday, in fact.

My wife’s name is Lindsey, and my little daughter, otherwise known as the ‘little disgrace my mother will never meet’ is Bandit, the second most beautiful girl in the world, second only to her mother. I’m a bit of a hopeless romantic, just ignore that side of me if you wish.

I’m sorry if I overloaded your brain with information, it’s sort of a lot for one time, especially the beginning. I just felt you should know why I’m here and whatnot.

Shall I get onto the actual story now?

“Okay, you behave today,” I said, walking down the street to my friend Ray Toro’s house with my daughter’s hand in mine. She was wearing a black dress, black shoes, and her hair tied back in a french braid with ribbons. One would think she was going to a funeral, which could be possible with the war going on, but I was taking her to her tutor.

“I always do, daddy,” Bandit said with a little attitude and I glared down at her. She hung her head down, and we continued to walk the rest of the way to Ray’s house.

Ray’s daughter, Annie, and and my own daughter were the best of friends. They’ve known each other since they were born, and when the time came, both our families decided to share a tutor, one who could handle the two girls together. School’s just weren’t something either of us were looking for, not that any of the schools in our area accepted girls as young as six years old and promised to abide by some of the conditions we gave them (like keeping the two together).

“Good. Now have fun with your lessons today. Remember, they’re bringing you home once Ray gets off of work, so don’t watch for mommy and I.” I said, stopping outside of Ray’s door. They only lived a block away from us, if that.

“I don’t. I like being here with Annie.”

“That’s good,” I stooped down to her level, wrapping my arms around her. She kissed my cheek before she turned and opened the door, shutting it quietly behind her.

I sighed and turned back, ready to go back to my own house and finish filing off some papers from work that I brought home with me when I took the week off due to my wife being out of town for the week.

Our house was bigger than what we needed right now, but Lindsey and I were hoping for a second kid when we bought the house a few years ago, but it hasn’t happened yet. I walked up the front steps, digging for my key in my pocket and unlocked the door. I took my jacket off and hung it on the coat rack and walked to the kitchen, which was just off the entrance way, really, and started to make some coffee. Since I woke up late, then had to hurriedly make some form of breakfast for Bandit to eat while waking her up and walk her to school I didn’t have time to have my coffee. I waited for it to beep while I dug around for bowl and porridge so I could have my own breakfast.

I took my breakfast and coffee to the living room where I had my papers over the coffee table. I quickly turned the radio on, just to have some background noise while I finished up my work.

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I put my papers down, glad to finally be done with them. All that was left to do was to get them in the cabinet at work where we stored all the files and I’d be rid of them for good.

I put my papers into the folder and carried it with me to the kitchen where I took my bowl, putting it in the sink to wash later. I walked down the hall to my bedroom where I kept my briefcase and put the papers in so I wouldn’t lose them. I looked around, not entirely sure what to do. I wasn’t very used to being home for long periods of time without anyone else around.

I decided that I would take a nap instead of cleaning the house, since it really wasn’t much of a mess anyways, and that’s what maids were for, anyhow. I pulled back the covers on the bed, and crawled under, falling asleep rather quickly.

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I’m going to take a little break here to clarify something.

The year is 1862, and times aren’t as peaceful as one would like. There’s a war being fought right on my doorstep, and the idea I could be shot on my way to work haunts me everyday. The even scarier thought that never leaves the corner of my mind is someone taking my Lindsey or Bandit and killing them right in front of me, and I being helpless to do anything and having to live without them until I ended up shooting myself.

Those weren’t thoughts I liked to think about, but they always reared their ugly heads when I’m not paying attention.

I live in the north, all the way in Massachusetts, where I ran away to while escaping my family down in Virginia all those years ago.

If you want to know a little more about my past, growing up we had a handful of slaves to tend to the livestock we had. We weren’t a big plantation owning household, but we had animals. My father didn’t participate in slave auctions, the ones we had were passed down from his father, or at least that’s what he told us. I was never one for it, I didn’t like having slaves (although having a maid now and paying her to clean for us was a different story), but that’s goody-two-shoes Gerard Way for you. I wasn’t one to boss people around, or be mean to them unless they gave me a reason to, and frankly, not milking a cow wasn’t a reason for me to be angry at someone.

And that got me off track a little. I guess you know where I stand on the war now.

That’s about all I have to say here, back to the story.

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I woke up to the smell of something cooking, and I quickly changed out of my slept in clothes into something else, venturing out of the room, heading to the kitchen to investigate the scent.

I saw Lindsey, my wife, with her back to me as she stirred something in a pot over the stove. I quietly walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist, kissing up her neck until she turned and our lips met.

“You’re back early,” I said sleepily. I walked over to the water pitcher and poured myself a glass, leaning back against the counter as Lindsey continued to cook.

“This is when I said I’d be back. You’ve just been sleeping all day,” she said, a playful tone in her voice. She smirked at me, setting the wooden spoon down. I saw soup in the pot, a mix of meat and vegetables. I inwardly cheered, it was one of my favorite things to eat.

I finished my glass and set it on the counter. “Really?” She nodded. “Wow...I’m not used to sleeping during the day.”

“You seemed like you needed the sleep. You’ve hardly slept these past few weeks.” Lindsey turned her back to the stove, letting the little fire go down. I couldn’t lie and say I haven’t been able to sleep, with these nightmares haunting me all the time.


“Well thank you for that,” I held my arms open for her and she crossed over to me and wrapped her own arms around me. I kissed the top of her head, and she tipped her head up and our lips met. I got lost in our kiss and before I realized what was going on, someone coughed in the room and we both jumped.

Ray and Christa both started laughing while Lindsey and I blushed. While we were busy, they must’ve come over for supper, bringing the girl’s with them. I didn’t see them in the kitchen, they were probably in Bandit’s room talking about some of Bandit’s drawings and stories she’s made up to go with them.

“Are we disturbing something? Would you like us to come back later?” Ray asked, jokingly. I blushed harder.

“Is that a new dress?” Lindsey asked Christa, walking around the little table in the middle of the kitchen for more preparation space.

“How’s work as the world’s best doctor?” I asked, changing the topic.

“Well, you know how demanding my practice is in this day and age,” Ray said with an emotionless face. The two of us hated the war, and just wished to go back to normal, even if the Southerners had their slaves. As long as there was no fighting and no death to my loved ones, I really didn’t care (selfish, I know).

The four of us continued on in a few conversations with each other until the two girls came down from Bandit’s room, demanding to know when supper would be ready.

“Just waiting for you two to ask,” Lindsey said, and all six of us quickly moved to the dining room to enjoy some of Lindsey’s soup.

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“It was good seeing you guys,” Lindsey said, hugging Ray and Christa as they prepared to leave. “I love when you come over.”

“We love coming over, it means we don’t have to make supper,” Ray said and Christa elbowed him and we all started laughing. “I mean, we love spending time with our favorite lawyer and artist couple.”

“It’s a good thing we love you too, but next time we’re at your house,” I said, wrapping an arm around Lindsey’s shoulders as we stood on the front porch, seeing them off.

“Deal.”

The Toro’s left, Annie walking between the two of them, holding both their hands.

“Alright Miss Bandit, time for bed,” I said, following her down the hall as she ran to the bathroom, starting our bedtime routine of a bath before bed.

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When I finally got Bandit to sleep, I walked out to the living room and saw Lindsey sitting on the couch, holding a letter in her hands. She didn’t look up at me until I sat down next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Her face was red and her eyes were puffy.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, quietly and soothingly.

“I went out to get the mail and...” She paused and held out the paper for me to take, and she started sobbing as I took it. “Just read it,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from the tears.

I started to read the paper, not getting too far in until I realized what it was. Why Lindsey was crying.

I was drafted.

I was going to war.

Notes

This is a story I'm working on.
I only have this much done, and would very much appreciate feedback on it!

This chapter, as you can tell, is Gerard's POV, and it's kind of setting up his backstory.