Hidden From Reality

28

Gerard

I waited for Frank outside the school. A breeze blew by, ruffling my hair. A sleek black car pulled up as opposed to Mrs.Iero's modest minivan. A burly man emerged and he waved towards me.

"Gerard, I'm here to take you home."

"Yeah? As much as I hated her, Mom always told me not to talk to strangers."

"I'm a good friend of Donna's. Just get in the car."

"If you were a good friend, you would know that I moved out a couple of weeks ago." The man scowled before repeating his order. I shook my head, informing him that I was waiting for Frank.He growled and reached out, grabbing my arm. He pulled me over to the car and forced me into the back seat. Before I could even think about calling for help, he stuffed a gag in my mouth. After he tied my hands behind my back, he slammed the door closed and began the drive. I squirmed, jumping up when we passed Frank's house. But we eventually pulled to a stop in front of my old house. I was dragged inside, my backpack's strap cutting into my shoulder. I was dragged all the way back to my old room, where my mother sat, perched on my old bed. She had gained weight, causing her to lose her usually curvy figure. Her hair hung limp past her shoulders, and her face had no trace of make-up. Yet she smiled at me, showing off perfectly white teeth.

"Hello Gerard. It's been awhile." I struggled against the man's grip, but he only began to hold tighter. My mom gestured at him and he ripped the gag out of my mouth. I gulped in air, not even trying to hide my panic. I eventually looked up, locking eyes with the woman on my bed.

"What do you want?"

"Oh, just to make sure you never leave me again. Tie him up." The man forced me closer to my bed and shoved me into sitting in front of one of the bedposts. I struggled helplessly as he finished his task. My mom handed him a wad of cash as he left the room and thanked him before turning back to me. She pulled out a pack of sewing needles and crouched down in front of me. She snarled, taking in the hoodie Frank had gotten me.

"Who in their right mind would put your art on clothing?" She pulled out one of the small needles, holding it in front of my face.

"I do hope you're still deathly afraid of these. This wouldn't be any fun otherwise."

"Y-you're crazy."

"Aw, was that a stutter? Good." She rolled up my sleeve, exposing my pale arm. After admiring the needle one last time, she smiled and brought it up to my skin, close enough that I felt it prick, but far enough that it wouldn't break skin. Her smile widened and she plunged the needle into my skin, leaving half of it above the surface. She repeated this process until both of my arms were full of the small needles. She watched from my doorway, her smile never wavering, as I cried out, both out of pain and out of misery.