St. Mikey

Brain Stew

A tight grip took hold of my shoulders and shook me violently. Opening my eyes I saw it was Bert. He had a cigarette in his mouth and puke stains on his wife beater.

"Get the fuck up, I have to take Pete somewhere and I don't trust you here alone," he mumbled with the cigarette pressed between his lips.

I did what he said. Mostly because I may hate it here, but I really need a place to stay. I changed and jumped in the backs seat of bert's car. There were cigarette buds every where, as well as beer bottles, and bongs. Why someone needs so many bongs don't ask me. I think Bert wants people to look in his car and say," yup that guy does drugs". Like we get it dude. Just melt your brain and leave the rest of our out of it.

"So Jesus of Suburbia how'd ya sleep?" Pete turned to me smiling ear to ear.

"It's nice waking up with out a hangover," I joked. He laughed a little more than they joke deserved.

"Where are we going, anyway?" I asked while he still had a bit of laughter leaving his lips.

"My old house. My parents can't see me so we have to wait till they leave to get the rest of my stuff," he explained.

"You're a runaway too?" I was t expecting that.

"Well sort of, like I left a note for my mom and dad saying I'm leaving and don't come looking for me. They didn't call the police they know it wouldn't have made a difference."

"You have a lot of experience with runaways, don't you Mikey?" He looked at me threw the mirror oh the windshield, with a smirk on his face. I glared at him and didn't talk the rest of the ride. Or the way back.
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"What me to help you unpack?" Pete asked when he saw me searching through my bags.

"Sure."

We kept all the cloths in the bags because yeah. Then we started hanging up all the posters. I put Gerard's farthest from the door, so if Bert walks down here he won't see it.

When we were done I Laid back on my bed and light a cigarette. Pete sat down next to me. He looked like he wanted to say something.

"Did Bert know your brother?" He asked.

"They fucked," I simply stated.

"Oh, I, um,"

"Bert was a really obsessive and shit. He treats you the same way." Pete opened his mouth probably to correct me but I stopped him. " there's no difference how he treats you to how he treated Gerard. Don't bother denying it."

Pete looked upset by this. From knowing him only a few days I figured out he doesn't know how to deal with emotions. So instead he'll stuff his feelings with drugs. He went upstairs and came back with a sandwich bag of meth. He offered me half. Who am I do deny this guy of his therapy.
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"HOLY SHIT MAN!" I cried out as I was sprawled out on the floor." MY EYES FEEL LIKE THEYRE BLEEDING"

I'm Pete giggled at my serious comment.

It went on like this for awhile.

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"Did your brother really kill himself?" Pete asked.

Suddenly we herd footsteps going down the stairs. It was Bert.

"Yeah St.Mikey ,  did Gerard really kill himself?" Bert smirked at me.

I started getting flash backs of the morning. When I searched the house. How I told my mom, I was so freaked out I didn't know what to do. When my mom read the note she calmed me down. Told me everything was going to be okay and what we had to do. I can't lye anymore. I've been lying so much to others it feels like I've convinced my self it was the truth.

"no he didn't kill himself, he ran away," it felt so good to finally say the truth.

"Do you know where he is?" Pete asked with concern.

"No he doesn't," Bert smiled wide. "But I do."