No room in this hell | Frerard |

Early Sunsets Over Monroeville

Gerard's p.o.v

Saturday

Its been nearly a month since I got back and I don't recall being sober for a minute. I've tried over and over to tell myself I came back to start something new but instead I have cruised the bars in Belleville twice over already, searching, ferociously for anything or anyone that will make me forget.

When I got bored or the drugs started to get shitty I started to venture further for parties and hookups. Failing to scout out dealers willing enough to receive sexual favours for a little something. It is a dangerous game to play, gambling with your body around here.

New Jersey is as callous as it is unforgiving.

I thought I was willing to do damn near anything to stop the ache, I never meant for the darkness to spill out, maiming everyone that got too close. I ran from Frank as soon as I realised what I had done. I betrayed his kindness, letting him get caught in the fallout. I used him knowing full well what it feels like. I can't allow myself to hurt anyone else because I can't keep it together for one fucking minute.

I ran 10 blocks in the rain, trying to shake the image of Frank from my mind. By the time I reached my house my clothes were completely saturated, I slam the door closed behind me, my breath ragged and my body burning. I raided the liquor cabinet and bolted to the basement, leaving a trail of murky water behind me. I frantically pushed all the furniture up against the door, barricading myself inside. I turned the stereo up as loud as it can go, blocking everything out.

I pulled the cover from my bed and wrapped it around me as I fell to the floor. Shivering from the cold, I drag my knees to my chest. I deserve the pain. This hurt lives in me for a reason.

Mikey pounded heavy at the door. At first it was to get me to turn the music down and then every few hours, yelling that if I didn't let him in he'd break the door down but I stopped believing him hours ago. I stay here for days, barely moving, keeping myself subdued. I stare at the ceiling, listening out for the heavy foot falls above me.

I pull a box from under my bed, I've been building a stash incase something like this happened.

It was inevitable.

I fumble with the cap of a vicodin bottle, pushing down before it releases. I put 4 pills on my tongue, washing them down with whiskey before falling onto the sweaty sheets covering my bed. Mikey has been pacing the kitchen for hours, his footfalls heavy on my ceiling. No doubt trying to think of a plan to get me out of here.

I can't let him or my mom see me like this. I can't bare to disappoint her more than I already have.

My temples burn; the chemicals siege, numbing all of my senses on their way. I close my eyes, pleading with myself to drift away for awhile, I grit my teeth. I tilting my chin up to check the clock, my eyes blinking.

- 16:45 -

I drift off for what seems like a few hours, the space around me is pitch black. The stereo whirring from the finished tape. My throat burns and the throbbing in my head begins to make me nauseous. I throw the covers off me and slide down the bed. My clothes cling to me, still damp. I lean over and pick up the alarm clock.

- 19:22 -

It's been a few hours, how could the tape have finished? It was a 5 hour compilation. I shrug the thought from my mind and begin to peel the wet clothes from my body. I stumble to the bathroom, the cold making me tense. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, my neck and chest is covered in bruises. My lip is swollen and bloody, I look away quickly, shaking the image from my mind. I lean over and turn the shower on and sit under the water for awhile. My skin begins to burn from the heat, sucking in air as the pain radiates around my neck and shoulders. I reach up, turning the dial on the shower, increasing the temperature. I pull my knees to my chest and let the heat flood my senses.

I hear heavy pounding at the door once again. I stay still and silent, hoping Mikey will eventually give up and go away. I close my eyes and rest my head on my knees. The banging against the wood gets louder. I pull myself up and turn the shower off before slumping down in the tub. My skin still burning from the hot water. I sigh, pushing my hair out of my face, I cup my ears and keep my eyes closed. The pressure builds in my head and blood begins pouring from my nose. The noise becomes too much. "LEAVE ME ALONE " I choke, the blood filling my mouth, spluttering blood over my thighs as the water droplets trap each splash.
The words echo in me as they reverberate through the cold bathroom, seemingly bouncing from tile to tile as it falls silent for a second out there. I sit, a beaten wreck, trying to mustering the strength to drag myself forward and pull a towel from the rack. I pull one towards me, burying my face in the soft fibres before letting out a muffled scream.

The smell of iron makes me queasy. I clambered out of the tub, wrapping the towel around me. blood smears over my chest and neck. I find my footing and stagger back to my room. I take a long swig of whiskey, breathing deep, the air in the room is stale and thick, the steam making it a choking hazard.

I pull on some sweatpants and make my way to the window, I stand on a chair and push it open, the cold air gripping at my bare torso sending a shiver down my spine, I jump down and put another tape on, turning it all the way up. I swallow more Vicodin, washing it down with the last of the whiskey before the pounding at the door begins again, but harder and louder than before. "I SAID LEAVE ME!" I yell, my throat is hoarse and burning. "Gerard... it's Frank... can you open up?" He shouts over the music. My entire body loses feeling. My mind goes back to the other night. I swim in regret, too ashamed to respond. "It's been days Gerard, open the door!" He pleads, lowering his voice.

Days? I was unconscious for days? That explains the tape unraveling. It unraveled with me. I sit on the chair, my head in my hands. "Gerard you need to eat something! Please come out" he pleads again.

I turn the dial on the stereo, feeling a sudden sense of complete nakedness. It felt different around him. I feel different around him. I stand deadly still, anxiously awaiting his voice, engulfed in shameful longing. My mind casts back to the image of Frank between my thighs, the glint in his eyes as he looked up at me, his breath on my skin.

"Gerard?" He muffled through the crack. I'm shaken from the thought as I start throwing and kicking things away from the door. "Frank?!" I call, clambering frantically until I clear the barricade. I shove my cheek against the wood, slumping against the door. "I'm still  here" he replies, his voice echoing on the stairwell, bouncing around in my head.

He's still here.