Parachutes

84 Gerard Way

A/N: Happy Ieroween everyone! Sorry if I broke your heart last chapter.
I'm not done yet. :3
I hope you enjoy

On with the chapter
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I haven't felt alright since our plane first left the ground. I don't understand why, for the most part though. I mean, I hate planes with a passion so that's definitely a factor, but still, there's something off. I thought I would feel fine once I put some major distance between me and the airport, but then I didn't.

First thing to point out about the matter would be that I wasn't exactly the most excited when I saw Lyn-Z- and that never happens. Second thing would be that I just have this sickening premonition. Like, something isn't going to happen, rather something is happening.

I still met up with my friends and all, but when it was time to go to the hotel we'd be staying in, I decided to turn in early instead of heading out with my family. Which brings us here.

I've been staring at the ceiling while laying in bed for an hour or so now and to be honest, I could probably continue to do so for five hours more. I have the TV on as background noise, but I'm too in my head to really focus on what's on. My thoughts would go from Frank to Mikey to my grandma, and just circulate around them. I gotta say, they didn't exactly bring best of feelings either.

I decide that I should probably try to get some sleep, then again, I'm not really in the mood. I get up anyway, slightly staggering as I go to my suitcase to get my pajamas, and head into the bathroom. Ordinarily, I would get dressed relatively fast, but tonight is apparently a different story. Still in a daze, I wonder why my mood seems to be an emotional light switch, but I can't seem to really focus on that either.

Tomorrow's the funeral.

The mere thought stops me in my tracks and I stand still, eyes watering and I'm only able to watch the mirror while the emotionless stranger looks back at me. I slowly move my head, my eyes trailing from my bruised thighs, now exposed and revealing the skin marked with several healing cuts, to my wrists that appear to be in the same condition. From there, my gaze wanders up my arms to my neck before finally landing on my face. I blink, allowing a tear to fall as I take the whole image in. And as I examined my body that's been abused by none other than myself, I can only think of one thing.

I deserve it.

The fact swirls throughout my brain as I stare at my reflection, but then I notice something through my blurred vision. Something glowing. Something blue.

I lean towards the mirror to investigate and take a sharp breath once I figure it out. My eyes have turned blue. My eyes seem to change colors a lot: from brown to hazel, and sometimes even golden, but not blue. I reach out to touch the glass, hoping that it's just my eyes deceiving me. But it's not; my eyes are really blue. I grasp at my hair, tugging it in disbelief as I watch myself closely, wondering if it this could still be a dream. Once I finally tear my attention away from the unbelievable scene playing before my eyes, I pull on my pajamas and grab my phone, beginning to pace back and forth through the room.

I immediately dial Frank's number and wait impatiently for him to answer. He doesn't. I try again but still nothing. I try once more and after a few painfully long seconds, he picks up.

I start before he even has a chance to say anything, "What the hell did you do to me, Frank!"

His response is delayed, but still he asks, "What?"

I try for a calmer approach to this, "Frank, my eyes turned blue and I don't know why. Please tell me you do." My plea is followed by silence, and then I hear Frank gasp. "Frank? What's wro-"

Only the sound of the dial responds. He hung up on me.

At this point, and I don't know why, I throw my phone. I'm not sure where though because at that moment, I start to cry again. I'm just angry now, I feel like my blood is boiling and I hate it. You know those moments when you're mad and you know you shouldn't be, but then you get angry about being angry and it just grows from there? That's what's happening to me right now.

I rush back to the bathroom, and through teary eyes, I look into the mirror to see if my eyes have maintained their sapphire glow. They don't. But that's because they're red now. Blood red to be specific, and I don't know about you, but it's not fun to see that. I clutch onto the counter as I begin to tremble, panicking now, and try to regulate my breathing. It doesn't work though, because I start to sob and that only takes more energy out of me. I ask myself why this is happening, why now, but end up with the same answer as before.

I deserve it.