Are You Ready For Another Bad Poem?

Part1/Chapter4

Pete's Point of View:

My eyes remained wide. My hand remained trembeling. My mind remained with one specific thought, he's pranking you. Mainly I didn't pay attention to these kinds of things, because it's usually people just pulling a prank, especially Brendon. But in this moment of time, with the voice used to make the cracky noise of a 'help' go through the phone to my ear, I made my correct desicion. Something's up.

I sighed and grabbed a coat, put boots on, and not a minute later, already, I was out the door. I probably looked sick- oh, wait, I am. But I probably looked sicker than sick, I could feel bags under my eyes, my hair was going crazy, each section of hair going one way or the other, my clothes were wrinkled, my eyes were dark, and it looked like I haven't showered in days. Right when I walked out, I could feel my nose and cheeks go red.

I looked down, sloppily kicking the snow as I walked. Oh, I just realized there was slight 5 year old throw up on my coat. Wonderful.

Yesterday was a wreck, it was our last tour for this year. And we stopped late, because right now it's December. Meaning next year the tour might have to start later on. Truthfully speaking, I feel like I could sleep forever. And ever. Probably with a trash can on my side because I still feel incredibly sick; That was a HORRIBLE desicion to go to Monumentour this week and shake fans hands while I had the flu. Half of them are probably sick now just from hugging me and shaking my hand. A slow feeling of guilt crept along me.

The streets were like a white dancefloor as the sweet, gentle street lights danced on them. The trees looked as fragile as glass. The sky looked like it could ease down anybody just by looking up at it. It was silk grey, and some clouds were visible as they swooped along above my head. The light amount of footprints in the white snow just helped to calm the look of the city. Lights were on in a few house windows, soft yellow light pouring out of them. It would be so relaxing to just sit on one of the old benches surrounded by beautiful bushes covered with ice and snow and just stare along, but the weather is a different story. And, Patrick's house was finally in my sight. It looked well built and clean and covered in soft snow just like every house that met my eye.

Eventually, I come up to his door, took my shivering right hand out of my coat pocket, and knocked. My head was down because every way I looked, a cold breeze managed to slap my face. He answered not a second later. I looked up at him and gave him a warming smile, which dropped fast when I saw him. He looked like he was just beaten up. Holy. Shit.

This wasn't a joke.

"P-Patrick? Patrick!! Buddy!"

I ran in, closing the door behind me with a slam, and hugged him tightly. What the hell happened??

"Patrick, Patrick, answer me. Answer me, dude!" I grabbed his shoulders and lightly shook him. His look was obvious, he was scared. Frightened. In full panic mode. But he wouldn't speak. His face looked as beaten up as mine, no, more beaten up. Way more. His bloodshot, teary eyes poured only so much tears down his cheeks, covering his chin and throat. But even with all that, I feel weird to say he has the look of an angel who's scared of the world. But, oh, he really did.

Finally, a soft, shaking, gentle whisper traveled to my ears.

"E-E-Elis-s-a..."

That's when I shot past him and sprinted into his bedroom. Nothing- but the smell of..blood. Oh no. I looked ahead and saw the bathroom. That's when a gasp rose from my throat, leaving it slightly hurt that I had to cough. I could hear Patrick's slow footsteps approach me, and he put a hand on my shoulder as he cried gently. I approached the bathtub and held up Elisa's head softly. Oh my fucking lord.

I put my head up against her chest to hear a slow heart beat. Shock throbbed inside me, it surprised me that she was still alive. The knife was jabbed in her stomach! And I don't even know when this happened- obviously not too long ago because there's a heartbeat, so the shock from knowing she's hanging on slowly faded, but the shock of seeing what I'm seeing was still risen high.

I turned to Patrick who somehow looked worse than before, and that's when I stated, "She's alive. Just hope she'll make it." He just nodded. I then heard a door bust open, four men rushed into the bathroom, and not in a second's notice, she was already on the stretcher.

Me and Pat followed the men and Elisa outside, and as we were walking toward the ambulance, Patrick seemed rushed and not in the mood as he was getting asked what seemed like an ending list of questions by one of the men. Most of the time Pat just nodded or shook his head with his hands in a ball, up to his chest while his expression was still filled with horror and worry, but, there was some hope. Elisa was strolled into the back of the ambulance, and before Patrick and I could get in, a lady came up to us.

"Only one of you can be in the back with her and us," she said, disappointment hitting me because I can't comfort him. As long as he's with Elisa though, that's all that matters.

This was too much of a hurry. So, when Patrick and I looked at each other, I nodded, and headed to the passenger's seat. Right when I heard the back of the ambulance's doors close, we were off. God, I wonder what Joe and Andy will think.