The Aftermath Of Death

The salt water hanged heavy in the air as it swirled around the two lonely figures that walked along the bridge. Hand in hand the two seemed to float along like leaves in the breeze, both ghostly presences were being carried by the wind, but anchored down by each other. The misty skies were grumbling as the grizzly weather tumbled from the sky and the fresh rain drops collided with the sea water. The bridge seemed older that it had ever been in the midst of the last moments of serenity before the oncoming storm. It too seemed to float above everything so isolated and cold as it crumbled from age, but stood strong for its purpose.

The water underneath the bridge was rampant and uncharacteristically unsettled. Waves were formed by the gruesome wind and they swept up and splashed against every surface that surrounded the body of water. It's milky grey colour was a dismal reminder of the grey skies and it swirled and moved like a whirlpool. Every time a wave of water collided with the brick bridge the more it crumbled. Every second it was becoming even more unstable...

The two lonely figures waking along the old red bridge seemed to move aimlessly like the darkening clouds above them. They walked along the crumbling path which broke apart with every step and was covered in debris from the wars inside his mind, leaves and branches from the storm scattered all around the path blocking their way, but they seemed to float through it. For every step the two made another section of bridge tumbled down into the watery grave and caused spurts of water to erupt from the already unsettled waves and slash against the lonely two. Although the they didn't seem to notice. The more they walked along the bridge the more they themselves headed towards death.

'I become insane with long intervals of sanity.' A musky voice suddenly erupted from one of the faceless figures. They both stopped abruptly on the bridge. Their sudden halt caused all the movement in the tempest to disappear. They were in the eye of the storm.

'Edgar Allan Poe.' The other replies as it turns to face out towards the water. But it cannot look...it is faceless. Like the issue at hand. 'Do you believe I have gone on too long?' It mumbled, it's voice was so much quieter than the other musky, but booming tone.

'I believe.' The other one started. 'That you cannot get along being something you are not.' Everything seemed so calm as the two figures looked out over the suddenly serene waters.

'You are saying that I am not sane.' The smaller of the two figures replied letting go suddenly of the other hand, but not showing any other emotion.

'I am saying that you are insanity. The epitome of unstable. You are the storm.' The emotionless tone vibrated through the clean air and became the wind again. Swooping up the waves and casting dark shadows around them. 'And you can't avoid your true self for long.' The storm was back again. Whipping up its whirlpool and destroying everything accept the figures who seemed unfazed by the catastrophic tempest.

'And I must go back?' The question was quiet compared to the wind and echo of the taller figures words, but still seemed to penetrate the blinding winds and the storms heavy rains.

'No.' The figure turned away from the storm and looked down upon its companion. 'You must come with me.' Suddenly the taller of the two stepped up onto the ledge of the bridge and turned to face the other. 'You have lied you see. And avoided the inevitable. Time to take the final step.' The figure floated slowly off of the bridge and was suspended above the thrashing waves. It's face still unadorned and characterless, but seemed to bore into the grey backdrop it floated in. Fleshy and dark the shadows of its nonexistent face still prominent on its untouched canvas.

'Why?' The other figure didn't move from its spot. Stuck to the ground that was crumbling beneath him. The storm had began to rip through the bridge again tearing it apart and getting closer and closer to it.

'Because if you don't come with me now. If you don't chose to take the step, then you will be ripped to shreds. You have avoided it for too long! Don't you see!' Suddenly the fleshy face twisted into a disfigured monster that resembled that of a hound. A snout appeared in a skin like form and the eyes were just red fiery dots which shone in the greyness of the storm. It barked the words at the figure tearing through the air with its aggressive tone, but still the other figure remained unmoving.

'So I either chose to take the step.' Calmly muttered the figure on the bridge from its non existent mouth. 'Or the step is taken for me?' It turned quickly to the disintegrating bridge and watched as it crumbled and fell into the deadly sea water. Unexpectedly, against all its other senses, the lonely figure stepped up onto the ledge and stared at the hound still seething with anger. It's face twisted more into a sadistic grin as it started to fade into the grey backdrop of the storm. 'All I have to do is take the step?' The figure asked before the the hound could fade into the storm fully.

'No.' Its musky tone returning and its fleshy form twisting in front of it. The face continued to twist and turn and mould until is seemed to transform into the face of the young Gerard Way. 'You have to jump, Frankie.'

Frank screamed as he was pulled from his nightmare and sat up in his bed panting and gasping for air like he'd been holding it for a lifetime. His sweat covered form shook from the horrific and life like dream he'd experienced. His eyes wide and petrified as he gained his composure gasping and heaving slightly. His senses were whirling around on full speed as he tried to stop the room from spinning around him and desperately grasped at serenity. Cold hands pressed into his shoulder blade causing his to thrash suddenly until his ear seemed to unblock and he was able to hear again.

'Frank!' Lindsey was still half asleep as she was dragged from her slumber by franks desperate screams. Frank turned towards her trembling, sweat drenched and tears streaming down his face. She quickly pulled his head into her chest and rocked him while he choked and sobbed onto her. 'Frankie?' She whispered after a moment. 'What happened.' He lifted his head. His eyes were blood red and his olive skin blotchy as he cried silently and looked up at her pathetically. She leaned down placing a light kiss on his ripped lips; bleeding from his nervous habit. He kissed back slightly but could feel bile rise in his throat. 'Talk to me.' She whispered against his tired skin and he continued to tremble.

'I can't...' He sobbed out letting go of her and moving back. 'I can't do this.' Lindsey's eyes shine with concern as he rambled. 'The cafe and the meeting.' He sobbed loudly into the empty air. 'Withdrawal symptoms, Frankie. That's all....' She followed his movement trying to pull him back beside her, but he backed up and out of the bed. 'The dreams!' He screamed hysterically, hyperventilating and weeping mercifully. He grabbed a hold of his hair and pulled...and pulled... 'I can't do it anymore.' He seemed lost in his own mind as he backed up to the wall and sobbed uncontrollably.

'It's normal.' Lindsey spoke calmly walking up to him and trying to comfort him, but he just pushed her away. 'It's part of the process...you can get better...' She smiled sweetly trying to pull him back to sanity.

'BUT WHAT IF I DONT WANT TO GET BETTER!' He screamed in her face aggressively causing her to fall back onto the bed in the narrow room. 'Eh, Linds?' He snarled at her loosing all control. 'What if I just want to rot away until there's nothing left....what if.'

'Shut up, shut up, shut up.' She pleaded not being able to take it anymore. After everything. After all she's done she couldn't do it again and again. She was beginning to lose faith. She had to accept she was losing Frank too.

'No! Linds!' He kneeled down so he was at her level and stared at her aggressively. 'It's time you stopped living in a dream world!' She flinched at his words, but he didn't seemed phased. 'I'm sick. Sick in the head! And there is no going back!'

'I want to help, Frankie, let me help.' She cried trying to cup his cheek...

He flinched away and stood up staring down at her and letting the tears free fall from his eyes. 'You can't help me. I'm as good as dead.'

Notes

Lindsey's kinda...stuck. Like it resembles that of an abusive relationship. Where all she wants to do is help, but he doesn't need fixing. He's broken beyond repair.

"This songs is all about dreams, it's called disenchanted.'-Gerard Way

"Living in the dream and waking up one day inside that dream and realizing it is ugly and dead."-Gerard Way.

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-C