Asleep or Dead (Frerard)

Chapter 8 (Gerard's POV)

        I wonder what Frank and Mikey were saying outside. I pray to every god under the sun that Mikey’s bitter tongue didn't follow him into the hall, ready to attack Frank's gentle intentions once they were alone. Maybe Mikey went out to apologize. I hope that's what happened.

 Jamia seemed slightly uncomfortable alone with me, which I assumed was understandable. If I weren't in this fucking coma, I'd assure her that everything was fine and dandy and Frank would be back in a moment. I mean, yeah, I wouldn't want to be stuck with an unresponsive stranger, who just so happens to also be comatose either.

 I waited for Frank and Mikey to return, hopefully floating in on a metaphorical cloud of agreement, understanding, or just a state of mutual calmness. I would be fine with any of those.

 I was relieved when the pair returned, practically being able to feel their bodies cut a pathway through the tense and uneasy cloud that had taken up residence in the room while they were gone. It was almost like they were filters for the awkwardness. The thought latched onto my mind and created a bout of internal laughter, which I was glad wasn't able to seep into the solemn and quiet room. They would've thought that I was insane.

 When Frank, Jamia, Mikey, and Ray’s guest- Bob, I believe his name was -left, I felt my mind both relax and begin a marathon at the same time. Thank god the intoxicating fumes of discomfort had taken up last place in leaving the room behind everyone, but that meant it was just me, in a coma, alone with my thoughts and Ray again. Ray didn't really count though, I suppose, as he doesn't seem to be the bubbly or talkative type.

 I sat down in my minds chair and watch as my brain recited the day's events for my patient inner self, paying extra attention to the uncomfortable and generally ‘bad’ parts just to fuck with me. It worked, it always had, but at this point in my life, being in a coma and all, it just brought me the gift of tremendous annoyance. That's not a great gift at all, but oh well, too bad so sad.

 I wish I could just scream. I don't mean a cute little ‘uggggh’, I mean a roaring and absolutely barbaric yell, just to let my thoughts out as one collective emotion. I wish I was awake and happy and with Frank, who, I must remind myself, is straight and does, in fact, have a girlfriend. Maybe he's bi. I made the decision to ask him once I had performed the miracle known as ‘waking up’.

 I still have no clue when that will happen. I'm torn between wanting to wake up and wanting to just join dad in either Heaven or Hell, whichever I get plopped into when my time comes. I want to wake up for Frank, I want to die because I'm just sick and fucking tired of being in this goddamn coma.

 I can't talk, I can't express anything, do anything, move anything. All I can do is think. Sure, I'm fine with thinking, but I'm not fine with it when I'm confined to just that for two months. It's like a wild bird being trapped in a large glass cage. Sure, he may be alright for a few days, maybe a week, but after a while it just gets annoying and the bird attempts to break from its invisible but very real shackles. It just wants to fly without limitations. I just want to fly without limitations.

 I didn't realize how pissed off I'd gotten until I heard the EKG begin to beep out of control, just like the little bird that's trapped in my glassy chest. The line that visually illustrates how my heart is doing is flitting into violent fits of troughs and crests, diving feverishly to the opposite ends of the space it resides in. It freaks me out, admittedly, causing the flux of the line to become more erratic and concern-inducing, the beeping that indicates when the crests occur also begins to behave like a dog begging to be let outside.

 Brendon rushed into my room at the sound of the monitor, frantically working to solve the problem and calm me down. More nurses pour in with defibrillators and anxious faces, bringing Ray’s curious and worried gaze from around the sickly green curtain that separated us.

 I wonder what will happen to me, I think as I watch the world around me splash into the depths of an icy black ocean of unconsciousness.

 Shit.

 So long? Maybe.

 I hope not.