A Silent Scream *MCR fanfic*

5

As my eyes fluttered open, I immediately realized that my alarm didn't go off, meaning it must be Saturday, which was most definitely a relief, because gossip spreads faster than the Black Plague at my school.
The next thing I noticed was that Gerard is still asleep, and seemed to be attempting to absorb me.His legs were intertwined with mine, both of his arms holding me against his chest, and his head nuzzled into my shoulder. Not that I'm complaining, by any means. In fact, I'm more comfortable than I have been in quite awhile. So comfortable, in fact, that I'm able to drift back to sleep, even though it's overly bright and cold.
There's something poking out of arm. So, I reach to investigate, and find that I'm not capable of moving. A little girl is shaking me. I try to move, to reassure her that I'm still here, but I can't. There's no restraint on me, my body is just incapable of moving. I hear vague voices, ushering the little girl back to where she's supposed to be. Something else pokes into my arm, and indistinguishable voices speak.
My body was being shaken and my eyes jolted open, scanning for whatever's happening. Gerard was shaking me, a slightly worried expression cast upon his face. When he sees that I'm fully awake, he returned to his typical emotionless expression and informed,
"You were having a nightmare." No I wasn't. I was having a perfectly normal dream that I shouldn't have been scared of. Perhaps it's simply the fact that I'm remembering said dreams, not what the dreams are. I muttered something that even I find unintelligible in his general direction, then grab the food bag.
"Son of a fuck." He raised an eyebrow and I threw the empty bag at him as explanation. Somehow he understood, and offered,
"You could come and eat at my house, if you'd like. My idiot of a brother should be out with friends and my mother is at work."
"Really? Thanks."
"It's not a problem."
After I got dressed we headed over to his house, which I discovered to be relatively nice. Opening the fridge, he asks,
"Bagel okay?" I nodded and he starts making two bagels, one of which I assumed was for himself.
After we ate, I realized that, as relieving as it was that I didn't have to deal with the questions or rumors, I had nowhere to go. I'd like to stay here all day, but I knew I couldn't. It seemed, simply put, strange. Maybe I'll dye my hair. I've had the same color all my life, as my parents always said that if I was to be blessed with a hair color almost always considered beautiful, I shouldn't change it. Now that they were gone, I was free to do whatever I want. I may not have been fully in control of my mouth when I asked Gerard,
"What color should I dye my hair?" His answer shocked me, mostly because of the simple fact that it actually existed.
"With how long it is now, you shouldn't. You'd be forced into buying quite a bit of dye. And it would be very difficult to get it even. If you cut it? A bright purple would look very attractive on you." Almost unconsciously, I made the decision to do exactly that. My mouth repeated its new habit of speaking without my permission and I inquired,
"How short should I cut it? Simply shoulder length? A pixie?"
"A pixie cut with choppy bangs would frame your face extraordinarily well."
So I inform him that I'm going to go and get my hair cut, and to my utter surprise, he insists on driving me. Then, after I'm inside the haircutting place, he drives off somewhere, and I automatically assume I'll be walking.
As per usual, my assumption is shockingly inaccurate. He drives back up right as I'm paying, and I see that he had went and bought three different shades of purple dye. I reach to grab my wallet, and pay him back, but he seems to read my mind and demands,
"No. It's my pleasure." It's startling, as Gerard seems more the type to easily accept favors, so I assume he truly doesn't mind.
He drives back to his house, and immediately drags me into the upstairs bathroom. Scissors appear in his hand, seemingly out of nowhere, and he snips off three small pieces of my hair. Then, he applies a different shade of dye to each one. Immediately, I understand that he's checking for what color my hair will end up. I assume we'll go back down to the kitchen while waiting for the dye to set, so my shock when he leads me to a bedroom is easily imaginable.
Apparently, said shock is ferociously evident on my face, as he chuckled, and explained,
"My mom will be home soon. I imagined you'd prefer to not be interrogated. Or assumed to be completely insane."
"Why would your mother assume that I'm insane?"
"You have yet to reach the level of friendship necessary for me to explain that particular detail to you."
An alarm rang out suddenly, causing Gerard to sigh in annoyance and leave the room, muttering about "fucking meds" very irritably.  I moved to sit on his bed, and glanced around the room. It was all black, and there were posters covering the walls. In the corner, there was a desk, and quite a few different sketchbooks on said desk. I pondered, for a second, if I should go and look in a sketchbook, before my curiosity got too pushy and I found myself picking up one of the sketchbooks. It was one of the many plain black ones, and what I find on the first page shocks me. My name. Part of me was slightly creeped out, but I flipped deeper into the sketchbook, and found multiple sketches of myself, which amplified my beauty far too much. It was half-way filled, with different angles of my face, my hands, and my entire body. My ears faintly picked up footsteps headed towards the room which I happened to be in. Gerard was coming back. I hurriedly set down the sketchbook I was holding, pick up another and flipped to a random page. The drawing on here was more cartoon-style, and seemed to have a storyline. I turn back to the first page and found that I'd discovered a comic. Somehow, I managed to ignore the fact that Gerard was headed towards the room and found myself immersed in the story.

I was only a few pages in when the book was snatched out of my hands and I looked up to find Gerard, obviously trying to contain his anger and embarrassment, but doing a good job at neither. I squeaked,
"I'm sorry, I was just curious." He glanced at one of the pages and the anger seemed to melt away, taking the embarrassment with it.
"No, it's fine. There's just one I don't want you to see. Right now, you need to come and dye your hair though." I realized that I had likely already seen the sketches he was so worried about me seeing, but use my brain, and don't mention it. I decide that the most vibrant color is the one I want, and move to dye my hair, but he stops me.

"Have you dyed your hair before?"

"No?"

"Then you aren't going to. You'll mess it up." Under ordinary circumstances, I'd get all huffy about someone thinking that merely because I had yet to do something, I'd mess it up, but I honestly believed that I would, so I was perfectly calm.

As he dyed my hair, we talked about books, a subject which we hadn't yet covered. By some sort of magic, we ended up talking about food by the time my hair was done, and ready to be rinsed. After my hair had been throughly rinsed, conditioned, and dried, I got my first view at myself with very short, very purple hair. I looked fantastic. Admittedly, my face seemed too blank, and I might change my makeup style to match my hair, but I loved it.

I may have gotten slightly too excited and hugged Gerard. For a second, he didn't respond, then he hesitantly hugged me back. It was awkward.

The day went smoothly, and I was having a fantastic time, just talking to Gerard about whatever happened to come up. Then, dinner-time rolled around. We were both starving, but Gerard wasn't allowed to eat in his room. If I went downstairs, it would be crystal clear that I'd been here all day, and people tend to jump to conclusions. There were probably much more sane ways to get around this obstacle, but where's the fun in that? In the end, we decided I escaped through his window, and he would say he wasn't hungry, then we'd go get McDonald's or something, and return to the playground.

Unfortunately, that's nowhere near how it went. Gerard's window refused to open, so he distracted his mom and I snuck out the back door. Then, he tried to say he wasn't hungry, but evidently his mom needed to talk to him, so he couldn't skip dinner today. Adding to the misfortune, they were going to visit their aunt the next day, so Gerard couldn't come and sleep at the playground with me. I was informed of this through Gerard coming out for a smoke. I still got McDonald's.

Before I returned to my playground, I dropped by Walmart and got some different makeup. At the end of the day, I was in a horrible mood. Never before had I been so upset that music irritated me, but that was the point of negativity I was at now. At least I didn't dream that night.