A Million Reasons But I Need a Million More

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Gee's POV

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It was of no surprise to me how easy it was to get hold of some good weapons.

Guns, sturdy with enough bullets to take down an entire fleet of police if we had to.
I never would but he might.

As many bad things as I've done I've never been a murderer and don't want to be one.

I don't want to know that there's blood on my hands because no matter how much I shower guilt is something I can't wash away.

Booze helps I guess, a lot of booze.

I was barely fifteen the first time I had a drink, it'd been a dare but then I realised what it did for me.

It numbed the voices in my head that constantly reminded me of the screw up I was.
It numbed my tongue enough for me to keep my words to myself and allow the bruises on my skin to heal.
It numbed my heart so the rejection I received from girl after girl hurt less and less.

It made me able to deal with the mornings and the afternoons where I would hate every moment of my life.
It made the nights easier, the ones where I'd lay on my cold hard bed, unable to sleep.

After half a bottle of my favourite poison had been downed it made me collect the courage I needed to get up the next day.

And sometimes, maybe once every few months it made the words I babbled tolerable enough for a girl to accompany me home.

I liked those nights.
I never had to think then.

But I'd always need another drink in the morning when she'd be gone.

Millions || Gerard WayWhere stories live. Discover now