leATHERMØUTH -frerard-

Murder Was The Case That They Gave Me

I've never hurt so much in my life. My chest ached. My head throbbed. It was all because of him. I loved him and all he did was push me away. He had new friends. I was supposed to be his only one... we... no. There is no more 'we'. He's got Ryan and Brendon now.

If I can't have him, no one can.

The last thing he would ever see would be me. Tears pouring over my cheeks, a sadistic smile on my face as I watched the light flood from his eyes. I'd cry and laugh at the same time as his body would go limp in my arms. It'd be the last thing he'd ever see. His last memory.

Of me killing him.

I've tried so hard to keep these emotions inside and keep my cool, but then he decided to be a traitor. I'm not together. I'm broken. And I'd break him physically so he could feel my pain on the inside, on the outside.

I was already in his room. He was asleep. Peaceful only for a moment. I yanked the sheets off of him and he screamed, staring at me. I blocked out all the words he was saying. His voice was just a distraction. I set my knife on the ground and yanked my handcuffs out of my back pocket. I pinned him to his bed with some effort and handcuffed him to its frame. He looked terrified. He probably thought I was going to rape him. I may be a killer, but rape was beneath me. Far far beneath me.

I sliced his wrists and his thighs and gave him a gentle stab in the gut. He wouldn't die automatically, but he'd bleed out. He was crying. And screaming.

But nobody's home.

It's just us.

I got up real close to him and studied his wounds so the image of him could be forever in the inside of my eye lids. His crimson blood filled my chest with so much pleasure that I could moan. He stared at me helpless, crying, stirring, trying to break the cuffs or escape them somehow.

Poor, poor him. He was stuck. He was going to die and he knew it. What a shame.

He grew weak and I got excited. He was going to die. I knew that I had to kill him. I just had to. He knew things about me. And we were apart. You can't just do those things and not expect to die. It's stupid! Foolish! He had seen parts of me, vulnerable parts that he could use against me. He'd tell others. He couldn't live. I couldn't live with him being alive, telling these stories about me. I knew he would do it, too. He's just that way.

He stared at me again, watching the angry tears pour over my cheeks. The pity in his eyes was obvious and that angered me more. I took his face in my hands and he asked me why I was doing this. I couldn't help but respond. I had ignored him this far and I had the perfect response for him. One that would haunt him in his afterlife. One that would certainly haunt me and make me wonder how I had come up with such a thing on the spot.

"I want the one thing you thought you loved to be the last thing you see."

He was about to say something, but he stopped. His voice cut off into a choked sound. His eyes were black, all light gone from them, glossed over. He was dead. He was dead! Ha!

He was dead...

What had I done!? I had killed the one thing that mattered to me and he was dead! I was the one who did this! I... im a monster! A killer! A freak! I'm all the things they beat me up for and a fag on top of that.

I backed away from his corpse and grabbed the matches from my pocket. I lit one in his room and tossed it in the ground. I did the same with all rooms and escaped the apartment to watch it burn in the setting sun. Several others ran out of their apartments, into the parking lot. I sat on the roof of my truck, sobbing, staring at my carnage.

I had killed Gerard Way.

I had killed Gerard Way, the only thing I loved in life.

I had killed Gerard Way, the reason I woke up everyday.

I had killed Gerard Way and murder was my charge.

...

"No!"

The clock read 6:00.

I had 30 minutes until I was supposed to show up to his house. The one I had killed him in my dream. Would that be enough time to recover from my napping sins?

I could never forgive myself for something I didn't even do in real life.