The Paper Kingdom

Chapter Five.

My head was aching. What happened to me last night? It’s like any reminder of Jamie shoots me into complete sociopathic bitch mode. Maybe that’s for the better. Maybe I should kick the lonely thirty-seven year old, whose age just becomes more and more apparent to me as time goes on, out of my house. I couldn’t deal with relationship drama. I couldn’t deal with Helene Morris, and her group of PTSD victims lying to themselves for the need of anything.

But I couldn’t. Gerard, affected me, to say the least. His presence managed to justify lying to him and to myself about the truth of what happened to Bandit Way, and Jamie Finn. His hazel eyes examined my face, every inch of it, making my discomfort and comfort increase in their conflicting battle in my head.

“Juliet?” He asked, placing his lips to my cheek for a few seconds before pulling away.

“Mhm.” I said, in some barely-there groan that was hopefully a decent response.

“Will you come back to the thingy with me? With Helene and them?” I almost slapped him, but resisted the urge. He didn’t know. He didn’t know. He won’t know.

“Fine. What time is it?” I said, sitting up, before lying back down.

“Time to get changed. It’s two in the afternoon sweetheart.” Gerard stood up, his bleached hair sticking in all directions. His boxers were sitting just below his hips and he was chewing on his lip.

“Hey Juliet, got any men’s clothes?” Gerard said. I just yawned. “Babe, get up!” My eyes fluttered shut. It was too early for me, even at two in the afternoon. Could I please just sleep?

Gerard picked me up, bridal style, from the bed.

“Darling, I will literally throw you off the balcony if you don’t wake up and come with me.” He walked towards the balcony and opened the screen door.

“Okay, okay. Put me down now.”

He did.

“About the men’s clothes, I think I might have some actually. Like a flannel shirt or something. Just wear your pants from yesterday. I’ll go grab them, they’re in my bedroom.”

I walked down the small hall and into the plain heaven that was my bedroom. I found Gerard’s pants, sprawled out on the floor. They were a little creased but my pants sure weren’t going to fit him. I went into my own closet and grabbed some massive plaid shirt that some guy had left here. I wore it sometimes at night, cause it was massive on me and very cozy.

I also grabbed a big, burgundy christmas sweater and pulled it over my bra, throwing on a pair of thin black tights. I didn’t need to look good, I wasn’t really trying to impress Gerard. I mean, he’s Gerard. It wasn’t like I’d just slept with Kurt Cobain, if he was alive.

I found what I was really looking for in the back of my closet. It was a first aid kit, but it sure as hell had better shit than first aid equipment in there.

It was my escape.

Needles, some cash, three bags of heroin, ten bags of cocaine, a couple tabs of lsd, some spoons, some emergency cigarettes, five stolen bottles of adderall, eleven bottles of oxycontin, a lighter, and a small bottle of vodka.

If I had to sit through the whole ‘parent therapy’ thing, I needed to be severely fucked up. Heroin would be too suspicious. It’d be way too obvious if I was on skag, but maybe some coke? I dumped some of the bag on the lid of my first aid, rolled up an old receipt from under my bed, and did two big lines before cleaning up, making sure my nose was clean, and walking out to join Gerard, and get him his clothes.

I was immediately happier, buzzed off the unnatural high. I tossed Gerard his clothes, and he started to get dressed.

“I’ll see if I have any food but there’s a good chance that I won’t.” I said, telling a bit of a half-truth. I opened the fridge to find a fruit smoothie, and that was about it. I could go find the thing, but that was for me, for when I was in a mood.

The thing? Well, I guess I could explain the thing. It was a box, hidden in a false bottom of my desk filled with the foodiest of foods. Twinkies, nutella, chips, peanut butter, chocolate bars, candies, sours, marshmallows, and cookie dough made up most of it. I’d bought the stuff about two weeks ago and I’ve barely made a dent in it, apart from a few marshmallows and a half a mars bar. I guess I liked the idea of having a big binge one day, but drugs were more appealing than food and I just kept it locked away.

I took the smoothie (mango) and poured it into a glass and walked over to Gerard, handing him the sweet, orange beverage. He drank it all in one gulp, smiling at me after. He was dressed but his hair was still sticking out like Albert Einstein.

I started patting his hair down so it was at least normal looking and smiled at him. All I could think of was how good I felt.

“C’mon babe let’s go.” I said grabbing his hand, a small laugh escaped my lips.

We got a bus to Helene Morris’s house, sitting side by side. It was quite quiet, and all I could think of was that I was very cold, Gerard was very warm, and I rested my head on his shoulder and he held my hand, rubbing his hand against it to try and warm it up.

“Juliet, you’re freezing.”

“Don’t worry.” I mumbled, trying to enunciate the words to my best ability.

A lady across the bus with short red hair and a business suit shot us a death glare, before standing up to get off at her stop. “She’s a teenager, that’s disgusting.” Gerard gave her a polite smile, but I shot her a death glare. Once she was off the bus, my temper calmed down a bit, mostly based off the psychological euphoria of my high.

We arrived at Helene’s street, and walked down the pavement, the ground still wet from the rainfall of the night before. My shoes were starting to get damp, and my toes starting to get cold.

We rang the doorbell and Helene greeted us with a smile, her blonde hair in rollers at the top of her head, and I could see a smudge of chocolate on her cheek. I lifted my finger, to rub the chocolate off and she pulled away, as if she was repulsed from the mere sight of my bony finger.

“You’ve got some chocolate on your face.” I said, a bit awkwardly. Helene looked incredibly uncomfortable. She welcomed us in again, and we were back in the basement in a matter of seconds.

The environment was much more bearable than the day prior. The beam of light had a rainbow tint to it (probably the drugs) and Gerard had most my attention.

It was different. I wasn’t trying to get up, or trying to escape. I was making myself comfortable, my head in Gerard’s lap, lying on my back.

“So this is a thing?” Victor said, looking a bit confused. “Just saying, she could do way better so lucky you, Gerard.” Gerard just smirked.

“Yeah, it’s a...a thing.” Gerard said. Was it a relationship? Is it bad that I want it to be. Or at least I definitely wanted more than a thing. Was that was he wanted? Was that even what I wanted or am I just high as fuck?

They prayed, they talked. I chose not to speak. I just listened in pure bliss as Gerard talked about Bandit. He was so happy when he was pretending she was alive. I could be happy if I pretended Jamie was alive. But was I even happy when Jamie was alive?

Could I ever be happy? Like REALLY happy. Like Gerard talking about Bandit happy. Like Carrie-Ann eating chocolate ice cream happy. When is my time?

Maybe this is just some weird drug thoughts. Or maybe I had feelings for him.

Holy shit I need more coke. Did I like give a shit about someone other than Jamie?

Nah. Sex. It was just about the sex. Not about love, or feelings, or any of that piss. Right?




Right?

Notes

this chapter is a trainwreck

i seriously need to stop drinking and writing...

it's exams and shit

yeah