One more bite won't hurt

Gerard awoke, cold and shivering his thin blanket not doing much to prevent the cold from biting into his pale skin. He tried his best to remember the events of the day before. His mum trying to persuade him to go back home obviously being the event that stood out the most. Why the hell would Gerard want to live at home? He was 23 now. He had his own house, his own....his own.....well, yeah, that was pretty much it. But he was perfectly independent and could manage by himself. He didn't want to be stuck at home with his abusive dad like his 19 year old brother Mikey. No, he was his own person and in addition to this he could also go out whenever he wanted. Didn't have to wait for an answer (which was most likely to be no) to be given; he could do what he wanted and when. Which was also good when one of your addictions was to blood. More specifically; human blood.

Another of Gerard's many addictions now pulled him from his bed, forced him to throw a hoodie over his head and throw some jeans on too. This addiction made Gerard stumble sleepily down the stairs and into the kitchen where he automatically switched the kettle on. However this addiction was also running on the low gas.

He sighed as he looked at the teaspoon of ground coffee that lay lonely at the bottom of the tin. Still he made a coffee and managed to drag himself back upstairs, landing heavily on his wooden chair and desk.

By the time that he had drunk all of the black nectar he had completed his comic sketches. It had taken him months to get this far and now they were perfect. The colours, the characters, the way in which they dragged the reader in. Just perfect. He took a envelope from the pile that spread across his desk and gently placed the sketches in; not creasing a single inch of the worn paper. Now he sealed the envelope and wrote slowly in neat formed letters:

Atlas Comics and Publishing
Manhattan
New York
United States of America

Perfect. He slipped the letter into his bag and headed out of his house. The air was murky; sticking to his bag, his skin, his hair. He could only see a few feet in front of him but he knew the way to the post office, even if it was on the other side of town. He set off, the street lamps above his head doing nothing to help him find his way, the cars creeping out of the fog and continuing their pursuit of being useful in this sort of weather. The sun was just a small grey blob on the horizon but nothing would stop Gerard sending his comics to be published, this was almost the last day that he could post them before the deadline would close. And he wasn't going to be deterred by a little bit of fog, after all he ventured outside as little as he could get away with.

Still he walked. Clutching his bag close to his chest. He was almost there. Or so he thought he was.

"Help!" he heard a high pitched voice scream. He seemed to recognise the voice from somewhere.
"Help! I'm being robbed!" the voice screeched, hidden in the fog.
Gerard ran blind, trying to follow the shrieks for help that floated along the cool air.
"Get Off!" the voice continued. "Someone help!"

Now Gerard really listened and he crashed into the girl that had been yelling. She looked a similar age to Gerard and fairly local. She was quite tall and her damp blonde hair wafted into his mouth; his bag dropped onto the floor in front of her blue Doc.Martin boots.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked sounding concerned, hardly being able to see her face in the fog.
"I'm being robbed!" she yelled, hysterically, her whole body began to shake.
"Um...." Gerard sounding confused. He looked behind her to see no-one at all. There wasn't anybody there, no faces peered through the grey and no eyes pierced and glared at him.

"Who?" He asked as he turned his back to her and looked deeper into the fog.
There was no reply.
"Excuse me....do you know where they are?" Gee asked.
Still no reply.
"Or what they looked like?!"
Only silence.
"Excuse me, you okay?!"
Nothing.
"Hello?!" Gerard asked turning back around to where she stood.

Correction: where she had stood. Her heavy running footsteps faded into the distance, her blonde hair flying past a bag that lay slung across her shoulder.

"Okay... Bit weird." Gerard exclaimed sounding highly confused, tilting his head to one side.

He went forward to pick up his bag with the comics for publishing, only to find that it wasn't there. It had disappeared like the strange girl had.
It had disappeared with the strange girl.

"Oh for fucks sake!!!" he yelled, his anger rebounding off the mist, "YOU! I hate you! Why the fucking hell would you do this?!!! Ah, SHIT!!! I fucking hate you, you silly little bitch!!! Why would you?" he paused for a second. "I know only one person that hates me so much to steal from me but most of them (apart from my dad) are dead.... That leaves only one other person that would steal my completed comics! I'll find you Kaitlin, and you'll regret all of this you stupid little bitch! "

Notes

Hi. Sorry: I really couldn't think of a name for this chapter. Hope you are all doing well, I'm writing this while drinking tea because....you know, you gotta keep up the british stereotype. All I need now is some crumpets.............
Anyway, I'm not really sure how this is going or if the writing in this is boring etc. but I actually quite enjoy writing this. Hope you enjoyed reading (and I apologise for the small twenty one pilots reference).
Thanks. :)
-Lou