A Silent Scream *MCR fanfic*

16

Gerard's POV 
Last night Mom had gotten the call. Honestly, I'd been expecting something like this. I mean, gone for days? Something bad had to have happened. At least she wasn't dead. I wouldn't be able to handle that. I didn't know when it happened, or how, but I'd started really liking that purple-haired terror. She had me under her spell.

But even though I'd been expecting it, her being in a coma still hit me. Hard. Not hard enough to do anything fatally stupid. The chances of me dying were, in all honesty, very low. The chances of me permanently messing myself up, those were quite a bit higher. But that wasn't the point. The point was that I may have returned to previous drug habits. As in, heroin was coursing through my veins right now. Oops.

Truthfully, I didn't regret any of my decisions. The drugs helped with the sociopathy. I tended to have more emotions and be far more willing to take my meds when I was high. The only bad thing was that I had to shoot up, and I hated needles. In my opinion, it was worth it. A few moments of fear for a few hours of high? Definitely worth it.

This time, even the high couldn't completely banish the fear from my mind. What if she never woke up? It would take forever to get over her. Maybe I didn't even like her that much. It was entirely possible that I was just not feeling hatred towards her, and mistaking that unfamiliar feeling with that of a big crush. If I was being honest, though, I knew I liked her, a lot. The fact that she refused to ever leave my mind was almost enough to verify my feelings. Almost. The fact that she was the only human I'd ever worried about in my entire life, and the fact that I felt intensely guilty about ever hurting her? That completely proved it.

I hated it. The fact that she'd managed to trick me into this stupid crush so easily. It shouldn't have been that easy. I was an emotionless freak, and yet she'd managed to make me stumble and fall into some pit of pain and devotion. Whenever she got back, I'd make myself stop liking her. That decided it. For now though, I'd just get high, listen to music, and draw. Probably my top three activities. Which was almost sad.

***

I wasn't sure exactly how the day had gone, it was mainly a blur. But I'd somehow ended up in Skye's hospital room; drunk out of my mind, high as all fuck, and with multiple open cuts on my arm. All I knew is that I was hysterically crying into her hospital bed and she wasn't even moving.

Somehow, I didn't really understand how bad it was. How I had managed to underestimate a coma was beyond me. I guess I'd imagined that she was just sleeping.

She was. Just. Destroyed. It honestly looked like her face was more scratch than skin. She honestly looked broken. In the bed, she just looked so. Frail. Tiny, even.

The bed managed to dwarf her and she seemed like she was even smaller than she was. Which is, like, absolutely tiny. Seriously. She's like a tiny little dot. In this whole world of sticks. Sticks the size of trees. And she's a dot the size of a period at the end of a sentence.

I shake the strange thought out of my head. Sometimes when I'm high I start making no sense at all. I didn't worry about it. It happens to most people when they get high. I would've preferred to be original, and not experience the mind-twisting effects of drugs, just the physical bliss, but even I wouldn't escape certain things.

I looked down at her figure. If she hadn't been so beaten, it would've honestly looked like she was sleeping. But, the thing is, I couldn't make myself think that she was just asleep. Because I knew that she wasn't; that she was on that razor-thin line between life or death and she just kept tilting one way then the other and it made me want to die. She was my best friend, and every day the possibility of getting a call that said she had died was growing larger and larger.

I just couldn't live with that possibility anymore. If it was certain that she would die, if I knew she was just sucking up as much oxygen as she could before she had to stop, then maybe I could just let myself rot. But she was still alive. She could still wake up, so I had to keep on living, for her. I loved her.

The revelation hit me like a fucking train. It made so much sense. How I possibly could've thought I just liked her was completely just, nonsensical. I was obsessed with that girl. How could she have made me fall so fast? I hated it. I needed to figure this out. But later. Because right now, all that was important, was her being okay.

I stood up, leaned over and kissed her on the forehead, then left.