Overturned - Frerard

The Angels Come Screaming

((TRIGGER WARNING))

I snuck out of my house right now at the wee hour of 2:00am.  I am planning on doing something I and everyone else will regret me doing, and right now I'm slowly making my way to the old park with the swing sets, with a long rope in my hands.  I don't want to do this, but if I don't I'll just suffer greater.  I know I'm being incredibly selfish, and I'll make others around me suffer on a much larger scale than me, but like I said, I'm incredibly selfish.

I have to squint my eyes to make out anything around here, spending a good 5 minutes or so finding the swings.  I make my way over there, slowly but surely, planning on playing God and manipulating the power of life in the palms of my hands.

I swing the rope playfully in my hands, in a circular motion, thus creating a slight fan and a whoosh of the rope cutting through the air.  I reach the low swings, shoving the rope in my pocket to hop up on the dripping U with one foot, and swinging the swing while standing there while leaving my other foot suspended in mid-air by my thigh.

I lean forward, linking the insides of my elbow with the chain holding the swing together, and let my red hair fall in my face.  I think over my entire life, ironically all of its mood swings, and all of its miseries and failures.

With good comes bad, and with bad comes good, but the bad almost always trumps the good.  The badness overcasts the good like a thunderstorm, and the good is that tiny blade of grass in your front lawn that always looked like it was photoshopped. 

But I ignore the good, and the angel on my shoulder leaps off, because there is nothing it can do.

I stand up as straight as I can while I pull the rope out, and start to tie the pre-made lifesaver onto the swing set support beam, laughing as it will support the disposal of the life that belongs to Gerard Way.

I think while I'm figuring out the ropes.  I think about why I chose a park, and I chose it because it will forever taint the happiness of others with the infamous death of me.

I finally finish setting up my final destination, and loop the thread through the head of the needle.  I secure it around my pale, frail neck and look out as far as I can.  I turn my gaze to the black sky that is dotted with white specs of dust, and promptly salute it.

I look down at the combat boot that is allowing me to stand up on this distasteful swing, and imagine it jump down.  I imagine it dangling as I struggle for breath.  The swings may be low, but the bars were higher.  Whence I go down, I will stay down.  

I look around at my surroundings once more, taking in the paint-chipped metal play structures.  The slides are worn out from all of the naive children sliding down it, rubbing their fabric and slowly making their tiny mark on the flat piece of slanted metal.  The geometric metal dome a sun bleached blue, the scruffed up bark that lays on the entirety of the ground, and finally, the swing set I am on.

This swing set, this creaky stable swing set has brought joy to the lives of many children, including me.  Except this time, I will be swinging in a different way.  I stare at the rubber seat that is brightly illuminated by the full moon, and imagine the absolute bliss of jumping off.

But I can't jump off, I wouldn't suffer as much, and all I care about is what I feel during this.  Again, I am incredibly selfish.  So I look up at the rope, and back down at the ground, and back at the rope, and use my hand that isn't keeping me steady to take it off.  I would suffer much greatly if I continue to live, I don't care about the people and their lives that surround me,  only my own. 

I balance on my foot and quickly untie the noose and shove it in my jacket's pocket.  I exhale loudly as I jump off, and pull my hood over my firetruck red hair.