My Chemical Fight To Live (a my chemical romance story)

Chapter 1:

Gerard let his hair flop in his face, looking around the arena. It was a large arena, with thousands of cheering fans. But they weren't his normal fans. His normal fans were HIS fans. They belonged to him, his band. They smile for them. He was in tune with his fans. They had the same heart, like one big breathing life, singing along when they performed. These fans were something totally different. They cheered for the sport, for the arena. They could care less whether the players lived or died. They were a snarling, gruesome pack, hostile, screaming for death. It was a part of them. Something they desperately needed. Without it, they would starve.

The object of the game was to get across the arena to the ropes that hung on the other wall, connected to platforms at the top, which you had to climb. There were only half as many platforms as people, though. And the arena always had something up their sleeve. All I had to do was survive. Breath Gerard. Just breathe. The nervousness took over, and I felt my breath catch in my throat.

The gong sounded, and I took off for the rope nearest to me, along with two other people who ran for it. The arena was at least two football fields long. I was Breathing in someone's dust, while the third person going for my rope sucked in mine.

I heard the announcer coming over the intercom. "Prepare yourselves, ladies and gentlemen... Competitors..." I knew better than to stop running, surviving enough matches in the arena to know it was time for the twist. I dug my heels in, forcing my burning legs to go faster. "-for the flood." the announcer cackled in a demonic voice. Shit. Fuck fuck fuck. They were going to flood the place. And everyone who wasn't on those ropes would be caught in it. I couldn't go any faster. But the rope was so close. Then I heard it. Distant at first, but soon the quiet roar grew louder. The water was behind us. I heard a gurgled scream, and knew the water had swooped up someone.

I reached the rope, grabbing it, and I made the mistake of looking around. The water was almost here, a giant wave gaining fast, and up was someone climbing the rope already.

I had no other option. I started to climb after the man, fear like a hard rock in the pit of my stomach. It felt like it was weighing me down, refusing to let me climb. I looked up, and saw the guy on the platform, staring down at me. I could feel a cold look through his helmet he wore. I could hear the water. Louder and louder. I was dead.

Or I thought I was. Until I heard the guy on the platform say, "Gerard?"

I looked back up at the man. He knew me?

He pulled off his helmet, and my heart leaped.

"Frank!"

"Grab the rope!" he yelled, excited to see me. I did, and with newfound strength from seeing Frank, I started to climb. Frank helped by pulling the rope up, too. I felt the rope shake, and I knew the water was under me now. Fear caught me again, and only a few feet from the platform.

"Grab my hand!" Frank yelled.

"I can't reach!" I yelled back, feeling my grip slipping, the water lapping my toes.

"Swing yourself!" it wasn't a question.

I pushed my feet off the wall, swinging wildly, and by some miracle, I felt Frank's hand grab me. I still held to the rope, and between Frank and I, I managed to pull myself onto the platform.

Frank and I stood for a moment on the tiny platform. Everyone else was one person to a platform, or battling on them for the right to stay there. I watched a loser fall into the water below with a yelp. A body floated a few yards off.

I turned to Frank. "We made it." I said. I noticed we were still clinging to each other, but we made no move to let go, scared of the outcome. "Thank you. I would be down there without you." I sighed with relief, nodding down towards the roaring grave of blue below. My pants were soaked.