(Title credit: Room To Breathe by You Me At Six)
Hellloooo people. So, I usually use my phone to write and post but my phone is broken *cries* so I'm using my mum's old phone for now and the autocorrect is making me want to stab myself repeatedly in the face and there's not enough storage space to put all of my music and crap on it *cries again* so that's my excuse if I post this late.
Also, I want to say a huuuuge thank you to @businessofsouls for voting and commenting loads, ilysm! It helps me to keep writing when I know there's at least one person out there who cares about my crappy fanfic :p
Also, 300 READS WOAH TYSM
Enjoy the chapter byeee ~Nicole (still not sure why I'm signing off)
-x-
Gerard's POV
"♪Have you heard the news that you're dead?
No one ever had much nice to say,
I think they never liked you anyway,
Oh take me from the hospital bed--♪" I frowned in annoyance as my singing was interrupted by my brother's entrance. I say entrance, but it was more of a flamboyant flinging open of the kitchen door, followed by an equally flamboyant teenage boy walking in like he's fucking Jesus. That's Mikey for ya.
"Gee! How come you didn't walk with me? Meh, it's okay cos I walked with Ray and that Jack Barakat dude in my science class, and Frank, and..." he rambled on. To be honest I zoned out within the first 2 seconds.
I love Mikey, honestly, but that kid is too hyper if you ask me.
"Anyways , what was that song you were singing? Is it one that you wrote? I love your songs! What's it called? Can you sing it to me?"
"It's called Dead!, yes I did write it, and maybe I'll sing it for you another time"
Eventually my little brother decided to reside to his room and hibernate in there until dinner. Out of boredom, I made my way over to the living room and switched on the TV. I never really watch TV, unless there was a documentary about Green Day or something. It's just background noise. I love just laying on the couch, contemplating life, the universe and everything and nothing.
Only this time, a certain headline caught my attention.
Man and woman, aged 38, dead in a car crash
Fuck, that looks serious. I listened out for key information. Mr and Mrs Williams. Daughter called Hayley. Hayley Williams....as in my friend Hayley! Now I feel bad for not paying attention to the news story, this must be horrible for the brunette girl. My face changed into a sad frown. I've never been a fan of deaths, unless the person deserved it. Like Hitler. No one should feel sad about that; no one ever had much nice to say and no one ever liked him anyway. In my opinion he should have died and gone to hell years before WWII. Maybe Hayley's parents deserved to die too. God wouldn't just take them away from someone who needs them, unless they didn't deserve the lives they were given. I didn't know much about Mr and Mrs Williams, but my mom said they weren't nice at all. Rude, spiteful and two faced. Hm, maybe it wasn't a total loss for Hayley, just a narrowly dodged bullet.
Thinking about death inspired me to finish off my song, Dead! Without hesitation, I leaped off the couch and rushed to find my songbook.
Hayley's POV
Empty. That's how I felt right now. Emptier than any dried up lake, any finished coke can, any universe out in space. Just empty.
What do I do? My parents are dead! Fucking dead! Why them? My parents didn't deserve this, they were lovely people! Now I'm gonna be taken away by child services or some shit, and never see Alex and the others again!
"Fuck my life!" I screamed into the silence clouding the room. I cried it out over and over again until my misery filled voice echoed throughout the house. I wasn't empty now; I'm just filled with sadness which is worse.
I needed to release, to move the pain to somewhere else. A flash of white shining off of a silver fork reminded me of my friend - my razor. I haven't done it for about a week. But then again, I had no reason to a week ago. Now I do.
Once again, I found myself kneeling over the bathroom sink, trusty razor in my quivering hand, held against my pale arm.
Deep breath...
SLASH
SLASH
SLASH
The pain made it's way to me, and as always I was just so inviting. The stinging sensation was familiar to me. I loved it.
SLASH
SLASH
SLASH
I closed my eyes, threw my head back and smiled. How sadistic of me; I'm happy because of the scarlet liquid dripping down my wrist. How awfully sad. When I was satisfied with my work, I cleared up all the blood. No need to worry about anyone noticing, I'll just wear lots of jumpers like always.
I've never felt sad, or guilty when I cut. I don't think about how others feel when I slice my arms. Why should I? It's no one's business what I do to myself. No one cares enough awyway.
But suddenly I felt a twang of guilt. Alex said to call him before doing anything like this. And I didn't. I felt bad that he trusted me to trust him. He'll never have to know, will he? No one has to know that inside I'm broken. It'll be fine.
But that's the problem with lying to yourself; the disappointment is like a blade when you find out you were wrong.
-x-
Sorry it's so short, Wattpad cut off the ending of this chapter and I cba to rewrite it. I've also been busy and had writer's block :( the next chapter will hopefully be longer. Once again, thank you for 300 reads! Also, thanks for voting, commenting and adding this fic to your reading lists, it means so much!
See ya later ~Nicole
-x-
What if I can't forget you?
I'll burn your name into my throat
I'll be the fire that'll catch you
