TW/ suicide (attempt)
Gerard's POV:
Trying to climb the seemingly never ending ladder of the skyscraper I realized how much chain smoking fucked up my once perfect working lungs. I struggled for air as I begun regretting the decision of becoming an artist that rarely leaves the house instead of becoming a sporty athlete like all of my friends back in high school ended up becoming. I couldn't help but chuckle at that thought, unfortunately my chuckle escaped my mouth more as a breathless, aching whisper. Stopping at a decent hight to rest for a moment I dared to look down, resulting to feel dizzy. Because of the shrunken size of the city, I closed my eyes and tried to focus. The worst thing that could happen now was that my heavy backpack filled with various art supplies would drag me down to death. To be honest, this wasn't nearly the scariest experience in my life, I thought and went on. After what felt like a century I reached the last rung and swung my leg over the end of the ladder.
Catching my breath, I stayed bent for a while with my palms resting on my thighs and tried to recover from the unfamiliar exhaustion. Asking myself how I will ever be able to go down again, I reminded myself of the reason I climbed up here in the first place. So I went to the edge of the skyscraper and layed my backpack against the wall. I bent down and opened the zipper of my bag, exposing all the supplies I need for today's work. I put out my canvas first, followed by a pencil for the sketch and a few paints I will need to accomplish my work. I almost was about to panic searching for my paint brushes as I remembered buying a new set yesterday and sticking their packaging at the back of the canvas.
When I was finished finding my materials, I sat on a slightly higher spot of the skyscraper's roof to have a better view of the city. However, the spot was a ventilation that caused my shoulder-length black hair to blow upwards in the air. Slightly annoyed of the wind blowing, I tried to admire the beautiful skyline of today's New Jersey. Even though I haven't been here in five entire years it almost looks identical to the New Jersey I've known as a rebellious 15 year old teenage Gerard. It's crazy how much I hated this place back then and how I feel drawn to my hometown nowadays. I wanted to do this for a very long while now but never found the right time to do it. When I somehow finished all artwork for the entire week in 2 days, this idea was destined to become reality. Looking at the foggy skyline of my old home I understood that coming back meant learning to separate my life back then and everything that includes it from New Jersey as a state.
I can't blame New Jersey for the behavior of my parents.
I can't blame New Jersey for the person I became.
I can't blame New Jersey for my past mistakes.With these thoughts I felt the need for a cigarette. As I reached down my back pocket to grab my cigarettes I noticed my missing lighter and sighed at the thought of might having it lost when climbing up here. To avert my frustration I decided to finally begin with the painting as long as the beautiful sunset is still set in the sky, making every house and tree a complete dark foggy silhouette. I grabbed my first paint brush and thought about which beautiful purple shade I will use to make my first stroke as I noticed a small Wimper.
I shook my head thinking I might've just misheard something and wanted to set my brush on my canvas with a blue Violet mixed colour sticking at the pointy hairs of the stick when I heard it again. This time I set down my brush and turned my head to the direction I heard the noise coming from. An animal? Maybe a dog... But this is a fucking roof top. Who the fuck would seriously leave a dog up here? I stayed in this position waiting for another Wimper to hear. This was when I finally got up and moved my body towards the voice. I walked one foot at a time in order to attract as little attention as possible to my footsteps and to hear the voice as clear as possible, focussing on the noise. I knew it was the right direction I'm moving to when I heard it louder with every step I took. It was a very silent Wimper. Like one that no one else is supposed to hear. It almost felt like I wasn't even allowed to hear it. Walking over to the opposite side of the skyscraper's roof I finally was able to see the silhouette of someone. It became more clear when a sudden rush of lights came from the neighbors skyscraper gazing all over a boy with clenched fists and trembling chest staring down at the streets of Belleville while standing on the wall of the skyscraper's roof. He was heavily breathing and almost fell down the wall noticing me slowly trying to come over to him. He turned his face to me, staring at me with the wildest eyes. His expression resembled someone seeing a ghost. Pure terror was written on his face as he turned again and bent his knees ready to jump...
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This is the first chapter of this story. Honestly, I barely believe this will ever become a whole big story. I try my best to come back here at times and maybe take this story as an escape from reality. I've tried many things but only this seems like a valuable solution. Creating my own world and story is something I always dreamed of but sadly enough, never had the guts to do it. I'm not very confident in things I'm doing due to thinking them over for so long the bad is the only thing left. Thinking about it, it seems quite good to continue this story because even when I'm not satisfied with this story I can change it over and over again and maybe find a way I'm happy with. I'm not a native English speaker (I'm German) and therefore still do some mistakes and don't know the best ways of writing in this language. Ofc I enjoy every support and correction. I even welcome it. The topics I want to talk about in this story partly come from a personal place but remember, that's only the core. Most of this is fiction and I know right now it really seems like a shitty suicide story, that's not what it will be. In fact, not at all. Just y'know wait I guess.
YOU ARE READING
For every failing sun, there's a morning after.
FanfictionFrank planned it for days, weeks yes, even for months. He planned every detail and created several back up plans for the case he would somehow fail this mission. It's unlikely that anything can keep him from doing so, he was absolutely sure this wo...