What's The Worst That I Could Say?

Chapter 11- Deja vu

The present...

I was violently sick into the toilet, shaking as I sobbed. Memories flashed in my head like sharp, gleaming knifes, stabbing into me and making me recoil away each time. I weakly flushed the toilet, taking some toilet paper and wiping my mouth. I turned to the wash basin and stared into the mirror in front of me at my pale, tear stained face. 

And seconds later, I'd opened up the cabinet behind the mirror, pulled out the razor that was sat inside and placed it to my wrist. I stared down at my pale wrist with the jagged, raised scar, lightly tracing the razor over it. It'd be so easy, to end it right then and there. A quick, harsh movement of the wrist, and there would be a deep wound in it's place seconds later. I could do the other one easily too, and then bleed to death, maybe this time speed up the process by cutting a few other areas too, like my throat. 

I placed the razor back into the cabinet, shutting the mirror door and staring myself in the eye, anticipation running through my veins.

"Not today." I told myself, smiling slightly. I headed out the bathroom and straight towards my bedroom.

I wasn't going to end this; I wasn't going to kill myself because I was scared. I had to face my fears, I had to move on and get Gerard back. I needed my best friend, and whether he liked it or not, I wasn't gonna give up on him. 

About two hours later, after several episodes of Scrubs, I was downstairs making a coffee, humming to myself. And then the doorbell rang. I frowned to myself, and trailed towards the front door, not bothering to look through the eye hole to see who it was. I was met by a frantic looking Mikey.

"Helena, where the hell have you been? We've been worried sick! I was waiting at your locker at then end of the day, and you never showed, and Gerard, Ray and Bob went passed and told me you weren't in Biology or Gym! What happened?"

"Uh, home...and sorry, Mikes. I felt shit and ran home, I forget to get somebody to tell you..." I sighed.

He nodded, looked relieved. "Okay, okay...I'm just glad you're okay, and it's fine. Uh, so, wanna come round?"

I shrugged. "Sure, I'll make my coffee later." I muttered, slipping out the front door and slamming it shut behind me. We both began to trail across my front yard and towards the very small fence that stood between our two houses. 

He chuckled. "I could make you one if you want, we have at least several bags of Starbucks shit in there..."

I couldn't help the wild, joyful expression that spread over my face. "Fucking Starbucks?! Why didn't you say in the first place? C'mon, what're you waiting for?!" I squealed grabbing him and leaping over the fence, giggling to myself as Mikey ungracefully stumbled over it. 

Fifteen minutes later, I was sat on the couch, hunched over the laptop with a steaming hot cup of jizz, listening to Red Hot Chili Peppers. Mikey was watching Batman on the television, and then, not to my surprise as he lived in the place, Gerard showed up. 

"Hey, dickface, why are you watching my Batman dvds?" He sneered, folding his arms across his chest. I didn't glance up from the laptop as Mikey muttered a response.

"I'm not, asshole. It's just on the television as a re-run or whatever."

Gerard stared at him, narrowing his eyes as he shifted a little on the spot, clearly thinking of something relevant to say to him, or maybe us both. 

"Yeah? Well why is she drinking our good coffee?" He asked skeptically, gesturing towards me and my red coffee mug. I beamed at him, ignoring the fact that he hated me with a passion an replied in an innocent, sun shine voice.

"S'cause I'm special!" I smiled, bobbing my head side to side happily. Mikey smirked as Gerard stared down at me with a confused expression, and I turned back to the laptop, daintly taking a sip from the mug. After a few seconds of silence, I glanced back up at Gerard, raising my eyebrows. "Yes? You're still here?" And I took yet another sip of the coffee. He rolled his eyes.

"Well, duh, I do live here."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean you have to breathe down on your guest's necks, does it?"

He grimaced at me, shuffling back and flopping down into the armchair close. "You're not my guest, you're Mikey's." 

"Yuhp, hey, do you listen to Breaking Benjamin?" I asked with curiosity. He nodded, and I grinned at him. "Do you like this song of theirs?" I asked, clicking play on Youtube. 'Diary Of Jane' played through the speakers, and I shoved the laptop further into Gerard's direction. Mikey was too wrapped up in his Batman marathon, but Gerard listened intently to the song, throwing me skeptical looks every few seconds. 

He smiled slightly. "Yeah, it's a good song. Hey...I see a little Blink there! You still listen to their music a lot?" He asked after seeing my favorites list.

My grin widened. "Oh my God, yeah!" I quickly clicked on 'What Went Wrong' and his smile grew as he heard the guitar rip the familiar tune. He stood and sat down between Mikey and I on the couch, casually bringing his legs up and folding them. I put the laptop between us as we both sang along, resting it on both of our knees.

That's when deja vu slammed into me face first, almost getting me swept out of the moment. This as how it used to be like, us sitting on Donald's computer and listening to all of our favorite songs with each other. Green Day, Blink-182. 30 seconds to Mars, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Misfits, Rage Against the Machine, Paramore...

And then, almost without my permission, the words came tumbling out of my mouth. "We never saw Paramore." I murmured softly. I felt him freeze from beside me, and the atmosphere turn cold. I wished I hadn't said it, I really didn't want to. I mentally slapped myself, wanting to take it back. I felt his gaze on me, so I slowly turned my head to him. We stared at each other silently, many emotions flashing in his eyes. Pain, anger...resentment. Then pain again, but that came out through an icy glare. Mikey sat quietly beside Gerard, not watching the television but looking at the back of his brother's head, and then to me with worry. 

"That's because you fucking tried to kill yourself, remember?" He spat. I just continued to stare at him as I watched the frustration bubble inside of him. I saw his fists clench, and I opened my mouth to reply. 

"You don't know the full extent of what happened, Gee." I murmured gently. 

I didn't jump like Mikey did as Gerard slammed his foot up into the coffee table in front of us, angrily yelling at me.

"Don't fucking call me that!" He roared, standing up. I caught the laptop that nearly dropped to the carpet below, glancing up at him with no expression as he continued. "And full extent? What's there to fucking say? We all know that you tried to top yourself, how can there be a full extent? You know what? This is bullshit, I'm done here. Mikey, make your own damn food, I'm not hungry." And then, with that, he stomped off to another part of the house. 

I sat there trembling, for an unknown reason to myself. I mean, it wasn't because I was upset, and it wasn't because I was angry. I felt nothing...well, I mean, sure, his words processed into my head correctly. I understood what he was saying...but I felt nothing to them. They didn't damage me like he intended for them to do. 

I felt Mikey's arm wrap around my shoulder awkwardly, and I sighed.

"So," He began softly. "Want some left over pizza?"