The Strangely Familiar Midget
Gone Forever
December 30th
I was beginning to regret using white sheets for once. There was now splotches of old blood or fresh blood everywhere. I didn't have the energy to even wash them. It would be pointless to do so. Every morning I woke up with my cuts broken open and bleeding. The fact that I was still alive was a shock. I hadn't even passed out from lack of blood. It had been two days since I had seen Gerard drunk at my work. Two days since the worst day of my life. I had thought Gerard was different. I felt slightly guilty about all of this causing him to drink again. Almost a month of no cutting before a relapse wasn't as bad as three years no drinking being sent down the drain. Anger boiled up as I thought about everything Gerard had said. How dare he say I had to apologise? That fucking prick!
I took in deep breaths, trying to calm myself before I got too worked up. I got up from the couch for the first time in three hours and went to the kitchen to get some water. It was just after lunch and I had nothing to do. Yesterday I had cleaned the entire flat to pass the time before work but after I finished I still had 3 hours to kill before I even had to get ready. In the end I had gone downstairs to my landlords shop and had offered to clean for him. He had given me a discount on next weeks rent for it so I was glad I did. But his shop wasn't open today and my flat was still clean from yesterday. Everything on TV was depressing me even more so I had decided to just sit. At first it had been relaxing, not doing anything at all, but then the bad thoughts had crept in. My hands started shaking as tears slipped down my cheeks. I gasped as I dropped my glass and it shattered all around my socked feet. I carefully turned on the spot and jumped over to a clear area, wincing as my clothes rubbed against my cuts.
I went into my bedroom, forgetting about the broken glass instantly, and grabbed a pen and paper. I thought for a second before writing out my resignation letter. I signed it, grabbed my jacket and keys, and left for work. In the minute it took to get there, I was soaked through. I hadn't even noticed the rain beating against the windows. The sky was a dark menacing black. Large thick clouds pissing all over me, letting me know just how worthless and insignificant I was to the world.
"Frank? You're early. And wet,"My boss, Kyle, snorted.
"I'm handing in my resignation letter,"I said firmly, not letting my anxiety take over the normal part of me.
"What?"Kyle's face fell.
"After everything with Gerard I've decided to move back home. I think I need to be with my family."
"Oh well fair enough I guess. Can you still work tonight?"He asked hopefully.
"Uhh... I can't sorry. My brother is picking me up tonight,"I bullshitted. I had already made up my mind an hour earlier.
"That's no problem. Look if you ever move back here then don't hesitate to come in for a job again. I really liked you, Frank,"Kyle said sadly.
I closed my eyes, holding in the tears,"Thank's Kyle. I'll definitely keep that in mind. Uh- here,"I thrust the letter at him. He took it and we stood there awkwardly.
"I guess I better get going,"I coughed out.
"Yeah yeah... Good- good luck with life and shit,"He smiled at me weirdly.
"You too,"I forced a smile in return before turning around and walking as fast as I could towards the door. As soon as I was outside in the rain I walked a few steps before stopping and leaning against the wet wall, gulping in air. It took a minute before I could get going again. Once I was back inside I went back and got some more paper and my pen. I sat down on my bed and started writing.
To whoever finds this first, most likely my landlord come to complain about the lack of rent money.
I jumped off the bridge on the thirtieth of december. I thought it would be better because it means no body to get rid of. I leave all of my measly possessions to my landlord. I hope he can get at least a little bit of money from them to make up for my late rent. If word of this ever reaches Gerard Way, tell him i'm sorry for coming into his life and making him lose his three years sobriety. And can someone tell my family (if they ever come looking that is) that I moved to France? I doubt you'll have to but you know. Better to be safe than sorry. Also sorry for the broken glass in the kitchen. Sorry for even existing really. That about sums it up. Wow what a pathetic suicide note. To quote a movie or whatever; goodbye cruel world.
I folded the note, went and sat it on the kitchen counter before walking towards the front door. It was two in the afternoon and it looked like it was eight o'clock at night outside. I didn't bother grabbing an umbrella, I was already sopping wet from my two second walk to the bar. I took one last look at my flat before letting out a sigh and leaving. As I walked slowly along Symonds Street, taking a last look at the road that had been my home for three years, I felt nothing but a heavy weight in my chest. And regret. Regret over not doing this sooner. It would have caused a lot less frustration and pain for myself and others. I reached Elliston Crescent and took one last look at Symonds Street before heading along the shop fronts. In what seemed like no time at all, I had reached Baker Road.
Baker Road only had a few buildings along it, otherwise it was all dirt and rocks until the bridge. I stared around and ignored the thoughts of Gerard pushing their way into my head. I spotted a large rock just before the bridge and went to pick it up. If I fell over the edge of the bridge so that my back hit the water, then the rock would weigh me down and keep me under. I struggled to pick it up in the mud, water dripping into my eyes and blinding me. I cried out as I picke dit up, dragging it up my shredded legs. It was digging into the cuts on my arm as well. I could already see blood seeping through, spreading with the water. I walked onto the bridge, shaking water out of my eyes, and leant against the barrier, catching my breath. Behind and below me, the rising water was flowing wildly in the wind and rain. A sudden burst of fear ran through me. I took in a few shuddering breaths, trying to ignore the pain and the cold. I took in one final breath and-
"Frank?!"Someone shouted. I jerked backwards in shock over hearing my name. I was falling. Fast.
"NO!"He yelled. Right before I hit the water, Gerard's face appeared above me, panic stricken and sopping wet. My back hit the water with a slap and I went under. Gone forever.
I was beginning to regret using white sheets for once. There was now splotches of old blood or fresh blood everywhere. I didn't have the energy to even wash them. It would be pointless to do so. Every morning I woke up with my cuts broken open and bleeding. The fact that I was still alive was a shock. I hadn't even passed out from lack of blood. It had been two days since I had seen Gerard drunk at my work. Two days since the worst day of my life. I had thought Gerard was different. I felt slightly guilty about all of this causing him to drink again. Almost a month of no cutting before a relapse wasn't as bad as three years no drinking being sent down the drain. Anger boiled up as I thought about everything Gerard had said. How dare he say I had to apologise? That fucking prick!
I took in deep breaths, trying to calm myself before I got too worked up. I got up from the couch for the first time in three hours and went to the kitchen to get some water. It was just after lunch and I had nothing to do. Yesterday I had cleaned the entire flat to pass the time before work but after I finished I still had 3 hours to kill before I even had to get ready. In the end I had gone downstairs to my landlords shop and had offered to clean for him. He had given me a discount on next weeks rent for it so I was glad I did. But his shop wasn't open today and my flat was still clean from yesterday. Everything on TV was depressing me even more so I had decided to just sit. At first it had been relaxing, not doing anything at all, but then the bad thoughts had crept in. My hands started shaking as tears slipped down my cheeks. I gasped as I dropped my glass and it shattered all around my socked feet. I carefully turned on the spot and jumped over to a clear area, wincing as my clothes rubbed against my cuts.
I went into my bedroom, forgetting about the broken glass instantly, and grabbed a pen and paper. I thought for a second before writing out my resignation letter. I signed it, grabbed my jacket and keys, and left for work. In the minute it took to get there, I was soaked through. I hadn't even noticed the rain beating against the windows. The sky was a dark menacing black. Large thick clouds pissing all over me, letting me know just how worthless and insignificant I was to the world.
"Frank? You're early. And wet,"My boss, Kyle, snorted.
"I'm handing in my resignation letter,"I said firmly, not letting my anxiety take over the normal part of me.
"What?"Kyle's face fell.
"After everything with Gerard I've decided to move back home. I think I need to be with my family."
"Oh well fair enough I guess. Can you still work tonight?"He asked hopefully.
"Uhh... I can't sorry. My brother is picking me up tonight,"I bullshitted. I had already made up my mind an hour earlier.
"That's no problem. Look if you ever move back here then don't hesitate to come in for a job again. I really liked you, Frank,"Kyle said sadly.
I closed my eyes, holding in the tears,"Thank's Kyle. I'll definitely keep that in mind. Uh- here,"I thrust the letter at him. He took it and we stood there awkwardly.
"I guess I better get going,"I coughed out.
"Yeah yeah... Good- good luck with life and shit,"He smiled at me weirdly.
"You too,"I forced a smile in return before turning around and walking as fast as I could towards the door. As soon as I was outside in the rain I walked a few steps before stopping and leaning against the wet wall, gulping in air. It took a minute before I could get going again. Once I was back inside I went back and got some more paper and my pen. I sat down on my bed and started writing.
To whoever finds this first, most likely my landlord come to complain about the lack of rent money.
I jumped off the bridge on the thirtieth of december. I thought it would be better because it means no body to get rid of. I leave all of my measly possessions to my landlord. I hope he can get at least a little bit of money from them to make up for my late rent. If word of this ever reaches Gerard Way, tell him i'm sorry for coming into his life and making him lose his three years sobriety. And can someone tell my family (if they ever come looking that is) that I moved to France? I doubt you'll have to but you know. Better to be safe than sorry. Also sorry for the broken glass in the kitchen. Sorry for even existing really. That about sums it up. Wow what a pathetic suicide note. To quote a movie or whatever; goodbye cruel world.
I folded the note, went and sat it on the kitchen counter before walking towards the front door. It was two in the afternoon and it looked like it was eight o'clock at night outside. I didn't bother grabbing an umbrella, I was already sopping wet from my two second walk to the bar. I took one last look at my flat before letting out a sigh and leaving. As I walked slowly along Symonds Street, taking a last look at the road that had been my home for three years, I felt nothing but a heavy weight in my chest. And regret. Regret over not doing this sooner. It would have caused a lot less frustration and pain for myself and others. I reached Elliston Crescent and took one last look at Symonds Street before heading along the shop fronts. In what seemed like no time at all, I had reached Baker Road.
Baker Road only had a few buildings along it, otherwise it was all dirt and rocks until the bridge. I stared around and ignored the thoughts of Gerard pushing their way into my head. I spotted a large rock just before the bridge and went to pick it up. If I fell over the edge of the bridge so that my back hit the water, then the rock would weigh me down and keep me under. I struggled to pick it up in the mud, water dripping into my eyes and blinding me. I cried out as I picke dit up, dragging it up my shredded legs. It was digging into the cuts on my arm as well. I could already see blood seeping through, spreading with the water. I walked onto the bridge, shaking water out of my eyes, and leant against the barrier, catching my breath. Behind and below me, the rising water was flowing wildly in the wind and rain. A sudden burst of fear ran through me. I took in a few shuddering breaths, trying to ignore the pain and the cold. I took in one final breath and-
"Frank?!"Someone shouted. I jerked backwards in shock over hearing my name. I was falling. Fast.
"NO!"He yelled. Right before I hit the water, Gerard's face appeared above me, panic stricken and sopping wet. My back hit the water with a slap and I went under. Gone forever.
Why am I crying at two AM nope this was not the plan fuck
7/16/15