Lifeline (Frerard)

Chapter 1

GERARD’S POV

My routine every morning seems to be exactly the same since I started high school last month at Belleville High. Wake up. Coffee. Walk to school. Go to class. Carry a coffee with me. Try not to sleep. More coffee. Go home. Coffee. Homework. Coffee. Listen to music. Coffee. Write music while drinking coffee. Sleep. Start the cycle over again.

It was October 3rd, and the dead grass in my front yard was covered in red, orange, yellow and bronze leaves. I went downstairs to get my early morning coffee and peeked at the digital clock on the stove. 5:31. Good morning, Gerard.

I poured the brown energy into my favorite mug. It was a simple, pure, white mug with The Smiths printed on it in a faded orange color. I loved the smiths. I found their music calming when I would undergo one of my panic attacks or when my depression decided to get the best of me.

I let out a groggy, morning yawn before taking a sip of the hot caffeine and swallowing it. The heat flowing down my throat filled my body with the kind of serenity that you get in the bathtub. That relaxing, warm, cozy feeling that makes tensions flow away. Dissipate from existence.

I took the final sip of the coffee, leaving my best mug empty.

Am I awake yet, I thought. I yawned. Nope. I turned my head to catch a glimpse at the clock on the stove once again. 5:48.

Ugh. It’s monday, I remembered. School starts at 7:00. I had enough time to get ready, take a peek at a comic, and get another coffee.

I padded back up the stairs and back to the room from which I came from. I left the light off, seeing as the small lamp that sat on my desk in the corner of my room was dimly lit.

Time to get ready to go to my own, personal hell.

I rummaged through my closet. An array of dark colors and tee shirts. No luck. It was school. I could wear sweat pants, or something other than what I had in my closet.

I turned to my dresser and pulled out the drawer that held my sweatpants and pajama pants. I pulled out a pair of plain, black sweats, and then thought better of it.

Skinny jeans it is. Skinny jeans it always is. Skinny jeans it always will be.

I wandered back to my closet and pulled out a pair of dark, blue skinny jeans and struggled into them. When I finally managed to get the comfortable constrictors onto my body, I realized that I still needed to pick out a shirt. I decided to go with my usual style. I picked a band tee off of a hanger and pulled it over my head.

I guess that’s about as good as it’s going to get.

I heard an ear piercing beeping coming from the other side of the wall of my closet. Followed by an irritated groan and the creaking of a bed.

Fucking Mikey.

The beeping stopped and I caught the faint sound of shuffling footsteps.