Gerard’s POV

I walk seventeen minutes in the grey weather, scuffing my shoes against the pavement and ending up sitting on a small bench at the end of mall. When I arrive I realise I don’t really know why I'm here. My feet just sort of carried me, but it’s not a complaint since anywhere away from that clinic is good enough for me. Cool air washes over me, sending chills down my spine. The wind slowly begins to pick up, the air temperature dropping and I know that it’s about to rain. My stomach protests the lack of food and it’s about to rain so I suppose I should really go find a coffee shop.

There should be some money left over from lunch today somewhere in my bag. I fish around in the front pocket of my bag until my fingers brush over some metal coins. About four dollars is there once I’ve counted it all and vaguely added it up. Since I know exactly where the Starbucks is as this is the only mall my small town has I head in that direction, intent on obtaining as much caffeine as possible with four dollars.

The window to the shop shows me that it’s not that crowded today, which I take as a positive thing. The less people surrounding me right now, the better. I walk into the shop, inhaling the strong scent of coffee that greets me. Without even having to think twice I order a drink; it costs me nearly all of my money but they’re good so I don’t really give a single fuck. I’m too low-key pissed off to care.

I take a seat in the back corner of the shop, dumping my bag on the chair next to me. The café is almost silent except for the sound of the coffee maker whirring and clicking and releasing steam. A girl with almost fluorescent purple hair is typing away on her laptop, the occasional smile gracing her coloured lips. Stickers adorn her Mac, advertising certain bands and TV shows. I observe the two others who are sitting at table together, one reading today’s newspaper and the other scrolling vacantly on their phone. The person scanning the paper reaches up to adjust their round glasses every so often, tilting them this way and that and fussing when they move back to their original unsatisfactory position.

After a while of hiding behind my overdue-for-a-cut emo hair the employee calls my name; the sudden interruption in the peace gives me a fright at first. Then I realise I should probably go and collect my order. When I stand the chairs scrape against the flooring and make me wince. Nobody really takes note of this though and I keep walking, take my drink with a hushed thank you and shuffle back quickly to my table.

It’s not until I’ve half-finished my drink that my brain finally registers that tiny raindrops are beginning to adorn the window pane, accompanied by a low spitting noise of the rain hitting the glass. I glance at the pavement outside and see rippled puddles creating mini-lakes on the rain darkened concrete. I pull out my phone to check the time: 4:36. Shit. I down the rest of my drink and step outside, still under the protection of the building and call Donna.

She picks up on the fourth ring, sounding unimpressed.

“Hi...I am at the mall, since I, um, finished early?” the nervousness in my voice twists the wording so that it comes out as a question.

Donna sighs, irritated, and informs me that she’ll pick me up in exactly three minutes in the parking lot. She hangs up halfway through me thanking her.

I slide my phone back into my pocket and decide that I should make my way to the parking lot since I don’t want to be late or reap anymore punishment. It takes me two minutes to get there where I have to shelter under a tree. I have another one minute to wait for Donna. So much of my life is spent on waiting, I reflect. Waiting to be picked up, waiting at the psychologist clinic, waiting to get home, waiting for my dad to break down and beat me again, waiting to just get out of this fucking oppressive house and live my life the way I deem fit.

Donna honks the horn sharply as she pulls up beside me, stunning me out of the daydream. I try to keep a scowl from my face because getting slapped is not on my agenda for the day. I toss my bag onto the backseat of the car then slide across the leather after it. Once again, Donna drives off before I can utilise any safety precautions and my head snaps back for the second time today. I shuffle around, click in my seatbelt and proceed to glower sullenly out the window, resting my chin on my palm.

At home I head straight to my basement, wait for Donna to leave again for work and then run upstairs to see Mikey. I come to a pause outside his door, panting a little, and softly knock on the door.

There is a gentle ‘come in’ from the other side of the door. I twist the knob, opening Mikey’s room up and taking in the scene. He’s just lying on his bed motionless.
“You alright there, Mikes?” I ask him, not quite expecting an answer.
He sighs deeply as if trying to haul himself back into the real world. “Yeah,” he replies eventually in a breathy way.

I lower myself onto the bed next to him, feel his warm body roll towards to mine due to the newly introduced extra weight causing the bed to dip. I tuck my hands behind my head and let out a long sigh of my own. There seems to be a lot of this sighing business going on lately. Mikey peeks up at me for permission and then snuggles against my side.
“Don’t…” he trails off for a second, “get into more trouble.” He finishes.
“Thanks lil’ bro.” I chuckle. Quiet. “Did he do anything to you yesterday?” It feels weird to think that the events occurred only yesterday. Already there are so many problems stirring, arising, the situation consuming every thought and leaving no space for spares.

“He…He smashed a mug over my head. And kicked me too,” Mikey brushes his fingers over the spot in his hair where I presume that monster had injured him. Oh my god.
“Mikey, I’m so sorry,” I apologise weakly. I can feel my throat closing up and tears pricking the back of my eyes already. Punish me all he wants, but Mikey’s done nothing wrong. Fuck, even I haven’t done anything wrong! It’s all Dad’s. How could he hurt someone so innocent and perfect? But I dragged everyone down into this, didn't I? I started this whole mess.

“’S not your fault, Gee. His fault,” Mikey breathes. I make an insignificant ‘hm’ noise in the back of my throat then wrap my arms around him, wishing I could protect my baby brother forever.
“I'm sorry,” I whisper, my words muffled by his hair against my lips. Mikey’s breathing has evened out, indicating he’s asleep. I lie there a while longer until I hear a car pull up outside his window and untangle myself from his grasp to go back to solitary confinement in the basement.

Notes

Hey two updates in one day! Probably the last one tonight though. :/

- Run Bunny x