The Highways I Call Home

Gerard had been on the road for days. An occasional gas or beer stop was his only break from the monotonous drive. Dark cricles were forming under his eyes (not just from the eyeliner) and every once in a while they would grow heavy and close involluntarily. His stomach also growled loudly and ached from the lack of food.

He followed the nearest exit and found a small, cheap fast food restaurant. He pulled into the drivethrough and ordered the greasiest, most fattening crap on the menu, like he gave a damn about calories anyway when he hadn't eaten for days. He fumbled through his bag to find his wallet.

The woman at the cashier gave a fake smile and said,"That will be ten-fifty please!" Gerard pulled out a twenty and handed it to her.

As she sorted out the change, he took another glance at his wallet. It was full of green bills that would soon be gone. This was for college, he thought, running his hands over the money. He could have actually done something with his life. He could have gone to art school..

"Here's your change and food, have a great day!" the lady announced and he grabbed the items from her. Instantly he shoved the cheeseburger and fries into his mouth with grease dribbling down his chin. Then he stopped by a gas station and bought another beer at the tiny mart beside it to wash down his food with.

Soon, he was back on the road. His eyelids started getting heavy again. His tummy was full, and alcohal was running through his system. He needed a nap. Slowly he permitted his eyes to close- just for a second!- but then a minute later he was woken up by a semi truck bounding towards him, honking it's horn.

"Shit!" he screamed, swerving back into his lane and narrowly avoiding the truck. The man driving flipped hi the bird and continued on. Oops.

Gerard pulled off the side of the road and adjusted his seat so that he was leaning back. Then he shut his eyes, drifting into a fitful sleep.

He was standing in a grassy field. The blades were bright green and lively, feeling soft beneath his bare feet. Suddenly, he saw a figure walking towards him. "Mikey?" he called, unsure if it was him or not. He caught sight of the face. It was Mikey alright, but his head was smothered in blood and his teeth were sharp like razors. "It's all your fault!" he growled, stepping closer to Gerard, flashing his teeth threateningly. "Mikey, Mikey I'm sorry!" Gerard cried, falling to his knees infront of his brother. The last thing he saw was Mikey opening his mouth, biting into his flesh and ripping his body apart until everyhting went black.

Gerard woke up screaming. Holy shit! He rubbed his eyes and looked down at his body. Still in one piece! He thought about the dream again. About Mikey...

He shoved the keys into the ignition and zoomed off on the road again, blasting the music as loud as possible. Don't think don't think don't think... Gerard went back into a daze. He numbed himself of feeling, of thinking, of living. He was on the road. He was home. He was free. He didn't need that crap following him everywhere.

For days after that, Gerard would not allow himself to sleep. He would get an occasional snack at a drive-through and stop for gas and beer to aid his vacant mind, but he wouldn't sleep. He was completely exhausted, and eventually became shakey. His body was failing him, refusing to move. He needed to sleep. But he wanted to avoid all the dreams that came with it.

Also, an odor started forming in his car. He was forced to roll down the windows to temporarily get rid of it, but it stayed with him everywhere. The scent of beer, sweat, and death. He concluded (after a while of pondering the subject) that he needed to shower. His clothes kind of stuck to his body and his hair was a black greasy mop on his head. Everywhere he went, people would give him strange looks and stay at least five feet away. Was he really that bad? He sniffed his armpits and answered the question himelf-- YES.

He searched for an exit, reading a sign that said, "Atlanta, next right." He was in Georgia! That was a long ways from his home-- his old home. Gerard made his way to the exit and found a decent looking motel. He bought a room, using up more of his money stash, and climbed a flight of stairs, bag in tow. Once he opened the door, he sprinted towards the bed and jumped onto it, rubbing his nose in the wonderful smell of fabric softener and cleanliness.

After a couple minutes of caressing the sheets, Gerard stripped off his clothes and took a much needed shower. He let the water run through his hair and down his pale body, feeling it's warmth as it removed the grime that had collected everywhere. Grabbing the soap bar, he covered himself in beautiful bubbles and cleansed his filthy body. He repeated the process to make sure he got everything off, then dried of with a fluffy white towel and slipped on his favorite button-up pajamas. Now, he would actually sleep.

Gerard cautiously entered the bed, instantly snuggling up in the cozy sheets, and hoped that he would not dream. He shut his eyes, and soon a soft snore filled the room and he had a long, restful sleep. When he woke, Gerard actually felt somewhat rested. He layed there for another hour or so, making sure to enjoy the warmth and comfort of a bed, before getting dressed in clean clothes and checking out of the hotel.

He went back on the highway. For more countless hours he drove and drove, smiling as the music filled his ears. Occasionally he would start listening to The Misfits and sing along at the top of his lungs, getting way too into each song. He'd be on the chorus and not notice that he was swerving all over the road. People honked their horns and shouted out random curses, but he didn't care. This was the first time he felt rested and okay for a while.

Notes

Sorry, this chapter has been a pain in the butt! (not literally) Butt, (haha) I'm going to edit it as soon as my phone stops freezing. Great start to the fic, right? :P Anyway, Frank is coming up next and then it will get more exciting and you'll get some FRERARD!!!