Your Memory Will Carry On (Mikey Way)

Three Years Can Change A Girl

My Name is Christina Ross. I’m 20 years old, and I’m currently attending college studying to become a nurse.

I’m still friends with Mikey, Gerard, Ray, Frank, and Bob. Since I’m going to college in L.A., it’s easy for them to visit me. Their band is really successful. Like really successful. They just released their first album.

Gerard and I may or may not have a ‘thing’. I have this massive crush on him, but he probably sees me more as a sister. We’ve gone out on a few dates, maybe even kissed a few times, but it’s nothing serious. It hurts a little bit.

My dad died when I was in 8th grade. He had heart disease or something like that, I couldn’t exactly remember. That sent me spiraling into depression that only got worse in high school. When I was 17 years old I tried to kill myself. Mikey saved my life, and it was kind of bittersweet for me. The first year or two after my attempt I was still depressed. I was mostly upset that Mikey ruined my chance of death. But now, now that I’ve gotten away from New Jersey and basically started my life over, I’m really thankful that Mikey pulled me back over the railing.

I was walking towards my dorm room on college campus, when Frank ran up beside me. How he managed to find me on campus, I’ll never know.

“Are you really going back to your dorm on a Friday?” He asked me. I shook my head, rolling my eyes, and laughing.

“Of course I am. I have to study.”

“Oh c’mon. These lessons are pointless anyway.”

“Frank, you don’t even go to school here.” I teased, nudging him with my shoulder.

“Chris, come over to my place, I’m having a party.” Frank responded, taking my anatomy book from my hands and flipping through some pages.

“What’s the occasion?”

“It’s Friday the 13th.” He said, reading a page with a diagram of the female reproductive organs. I rolled my eyes and snatched the book away from him. We’re the same age but he acts like a horny 15 year old.

“Fine.” I said. “But we have to stop at my dorm so I can change.”

“But you look good in sweat pants.” Frank said, trying not to smile. I was wearing sweat pants, a tight Van Halen t-shirt, and my hair was in a messy bun. I dyed it black recently, in my attempt to rid myself of my old life. I didn’t say anything to Frank; I just started walking in the direction of my dorm. It wasn’t far.

“Can you not walk so fast? You know I have short legs.” Frank said, almost jogging to keep up with me.

“Sorry, short stack.” I teased. I heard him scoff beside me.  I laughed.

“It’s not funny! We’re, like, the same height!” He said, punching me in the arm.

“I know.” I said with a smirk. We walked in comfortable silence all the way to my dorm. When we got there, Frank took my keys out of my pocket and unlocked the door for me.

“Uh, thanks?” I said to him as I pushed passed him and went into the dorm. My dorm room was shitty. It had a tile floor that was an ugly green color. There was a bunk bed pushed in the corner, with a desk right next to it. There was one dresser against the wall, and another dresser in the closet. We had a couch that was small but no TV. There was a bookshelf too. But my roommate didn’t read, and neither did I, so we filled the shelves with CDs.

Frank immediately went over to the CDs and started browsing. I went to my dresser and found a suitable outfit. I picked a pair of black skinny jeans and one of Ray’s old Nirvana t-shirts that I neglected to return to him.