Secondhand Smoke

Throughout the week, I was constantly tempted to break the lock on the small black book, but I was honestly terrified to read it. It was his last thoughts, and things he didn’t tell me. I knew he had a journal, I always saw him writing in it. Whenever I asked what he was writing, he would put it away, and tell me not to worry about it. I knew it was his personal business and I didn’t ever want to invade his privacy.

I was laying on my bed with the book in my hands, trying to keep myself from opening it. I knew I need to do something with it, or I would surely find myself opening it.
I hopped off my bed and walked down my creaky carpeted steps, and out my backdoor. I walked to the tool shed and slid the door open, and grabbed a shovel, then walked to the middle of the lawn and dropped the book on the floor and began digging.
Once I had decided the hole was deep enough, but not too deep, I dropped the shovel and picked the book up. I examined it once more. I knew I could just easily walk away from this hole I had just dug, and break the book open and read it, but I knew I had to be stronger than that. I let out a slow shaky breath, and dropped the book down into the ground, then covered it up with the pile of dirt I had created.

I walked back into my house, and sat down on my small black couch, and flicked the tv on.
I was about half way through The Lord Of The Rings, when my phone started ringing. I knew it was Mikey because his ringtone was The Smiths.
“Hey Mikey” I said into the phone.
“Gerard, get dressed. I’m taking you somewhere.” He instructed.
“Mikey.. I don’t know. I don’t really feel like it.”
“Just do it, Gerard. I’ll be there in 20.” Then he hung up.
I sighed and clicked the tv off, then dragged myself up to my room. I pulled out another one of Frank’s hoodies and slipped it on, and found a clean pair of jeans and put those on too, then slipped my shoes on.
I was laying down on my couch when I heard Mikey’s car pull up. I pulled myself up and walked out the door, then turned around and locked it. I got into Mikey’s car and he pulled out of the driveway. I think he knew I didn’t feel like talking because he didn’t try to spark up conversation.
I leaned my head up against the glass of the window and watched at the street flew by.

After you lose someone who means the world to you, the world suddenly seems colorless. Its an ongoing nightmare, the kind where no matter how hard you try, you can never actually get home. It’s like you’re living in the mind of someone with clinical depression.

I knew where we were. I didn’t know where we were going, but I knew the area. Frank was buried in the cemetery two blocks from here.
We finally pulled into the parking lot of the same bar that I met Frank in. My stomach started to feel sick, and I just wanted to go home.
“Come on, Gee. It’ll be fun. It’s one of your favorite bands.” He pried so that I would want to go in. I slowly got out of the car, and we made our way into the bar. It wasn’t as cold as it was last time I was here. They must have fixed their air conditioner.

I had no clue what band was playing, but Mikey insisted that I like them. I stood in the middle of the room, trying to avoid the flying hands of the girl next to me.
The band finally came on and I immediately knew who they were, and Mikey was right. I do like them.
It’s Mindless Self Indulgence.

Notes