The World Is Ugly

A piece of folded paper drifted slowly to the ground from the pocket from the unfamiliar, yet most intriguing character as he walked away from me and into the night. I bent down to pick it up excitedly, laying the gun next to me on the concrete before I began to examine the scrawl. I couldn’t comprehend what I was reading. It was unbelievable. What about Mikey? I wondered. I snatched my gun from the ground and sprinted up to him, my feet splashing in the puddles. “Wait!”

He turned to face me, a worried look spreading across his face when he notices the unfolded paper in my hand whilst I’m walking towards him with concern. “Give me that!” he yelled, making persistent grabby hands for it. “No,” I reply, waiting a brief moment for his reply, as he frustratingly shoves his hands in the tight pockets of his jeans. He doesn’t respond so I try to make conversation, starting with something easy. “What’s your name?” I ask inquisitively, realising I honestly didn’t know his name, although I frequently saw him around school, drawing and sitting with a guy I knew called Ray Toro. That’s when he hesitated to answer and he stared deep into my eyes with his own curiosity. It takes only seconds before he is viewing the ground and shuffling his feet, his deep breath visible in the cool air. “It’s…Gerard,” he mumbles uneasily, blushing slightly.
“Gerard….it suits you,” I compliment nervously. It’s beautiful…he’s beautiful, his raven hair and his ghostly skin shining in the light of the moon. I think to myself. “Look, come to mine for the night. I don’t trust you by yourself and besides you look like you could use a friend,” I suggest, smiling hopefully.

Notes

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