We're All Dead Now!
Here I Am
Well, here I am. I’m in the midst of being stabbed and strangled by my two best friends. I couldn’t blame them, really. It was all my fault, just like they had said. While I’m breathing my last breaths lying in a pool of my own blood, I should probably tell you what’s going on. It would be a shame if I died with you knowing what you know, but not knowing how I got here or when this happened, or who I was with. It would make for a bloody boring story. I know no one will find me, they almost never find the bodies. I’ll wait until they carve the final piece of the web they’re weaving into my face. The final Anna grin, the Glasgow smile, my Buck 50. My very own Chelsea smile. I would’ve gone out smiling anyway, I mean, what a way to die. It was just their thing to carve an ear to ear grin on the faces of everyone they got rid of. I got in the way, they needed to get rid of me. Who am I, you ask? I’m Jillian, but I shall not be revealing my last name, as it will likely be shown on the evening news tomorrow anyway. That’s how it always is. Who are they, you ask? They are Gerard Arthur Way and Frank Anthony Thomas Iero Jr., my best friends. Sure, we’re all a bit crazy, but we stick together like glue. Now, on with my story.
Okay, so I was a moderately normal teenager with moderately normal friends. There was Frank, who was almost as short as me. His laugh could light up a room. There was also Gerard, who loved drawing and arts of all kinds. We went to a moderately normal school, Belleville High School, in a moderately normal year, 1994. Gerard and I were juniors then. Frank was a sophomore. I suppose we were a bit smarter than most, for we were honor students, getting strait A’s in all of our classes. I was planning on going to art school in New York with Gerard in a few years. Frank was concentrating on his band, Pencey Prep. It all changed when we lusted after something we couldn’t normally have. Blood. We wanted it all, gallons of the stuff. We figured we could get it and just live our lives normally afterwards. We were so wrong... so wrong. Once you have satisfied the taste for blood, your mind only wants more.
Okay, so I was a moderately normal teenager with moderately normal friends. There was Frank, who was almost as short as me. His laugh could light up a room. There was also Gerard, who loved drawing and arts of all kinds. We went to a moderately normal school, Belleville High School, in a moderately normal year, 1994. Gerard and I were juniors then. Frank was a sophomore. I suppose we were a bit smarter than most, for we were honor students, getting strait A’s in all of our classes. I was planning on going to art school in New York with Gerard in a few years. Frank was concentrating on his band, Pencey Prep. It all changed when we lusted after something we couldn’t normally have. Blood. We wanted it all, gallons of the stuff. We figured we could get it and just live our lives normally afterwards. We were so wrong... so wrong. Once you have satisfied the taste for blood, your mind only wants more.
7/30/13