To Live, is an Art

.1.

⚠️WARNINGS!!⚠️ Self harm, self hate, self homophobia, depression

Gerard stood in front of a burning house, looking desperately through the windows to see if anyone was inside. He attempted ran closer to the house but was blown back by an explosion. He coughed up soot and covered his face with his shirt, before running back towards the raging flame. A loud yell rang out of the house, pure fear and pain. The kind of scream that comes from the gut, and tears the vocal cords on the way out. Gerard ran in to save him, but stopped as he noticed his arms. Covered in burns he knew weren't his, tears leaked from his eyes as he knew his soulmate was dying. Filled with more determination, he kicked the door down and yelled out.

"Hello?" he couldn't get his voice above a whisper but despite the volume, a voice replied.

"HELP ME!" the voice begged. Gerard ran towards the man, faster than he's ever ran. When he got to a bedroom door he heard more screams. "I'M IN HERE! SOMEONE HELP ME!" Gerard kicked the door down and ran to the crying figure in the corner.

He crouched down and grabbed his soulmates shoulder. "I'm here, you'll be okay" he muttered in a comforting voice. Suddenly the man turned around, face burned beyond recognition.

"No I won't, not if your'e the pathetic one saving me. I'd rather die than have you," whimpered the burned man. Before Gerard could open his mouth, his soulmate was ripping his arm from him and crawling towards the fire.

"NO!" Gerard screamed, getting his voice back. But the body had gone limp, and the burns on Gerard's arm were only his own.

Gerard sat up in bed, drenched in a cold sweat. He looked at his arms but they had nothing on them but his own pen marks and cuts. He got up as quick as he could and grabbed the nearest pen. The black ink traced letters upon his arm until a sentence was formed.

"Are you okay?"

The boy sat down for a minute to think of the rest of the things he's written on his arm addressed to his mystery soulmate.

"Can we meet up at some point? I live in New Jersey, US"

"What's your name, I'm Gerard."

"HelloOoOoOooo?"

"Do you hate me?"

"Am I annoying you?"

"Please respond you're making me nervous"

"You exist right?"

Tears fell down the boy's face as he realized no one was going to answer. Remembering each time he rewrote those words and crossed them out with a razor till it made scars like a list. He walked into his bathroom and opened his mirror, pulling out his set of razors he promised his family he didn't have.

"Are you okay?" Gerard said out loud be for writing in pen below it "because I'm not." He drew on his arm, gasping at the sensation. His quill was a blade, his ink was his blood. As any artist, he had a favorite style to draw.

His just happened to be straight lines across flesh. Hidden away, only for his eyes. His soulmate would see them, but he's not out there. The universe made a mistake, and didn't give Gerard a second half. Not only that, but he was gay.

Which scared him even more.

Because if one day he got over the lack of a soulmate, he could never be in a relationship that would let him into heaven. He cried at the pain of his third stroke of he razor.

I deserve this.

He'd never liked being wrong before, it made him feel dumb, like he wasn't smart enough. He didn't have the looks or money, and being wrong made him feel like he didn't have the brains either.

But he wanted to be wrong about himself.

***

Three knocks at the white door awoke Gerard from his not-so-peaceful slumber. He groggily rubbed his eyes in an attempt to wake up.

"Gee! Get ready for school!" His brother yelled from the world outside Gerard's room, the place he ventured only for necessities. As the dark haired teen walked over to the door to open it, he noticed he wasn't wearing a shirt, and last nights painting was visible. He ran over to his dresser and pulled out a black sweater and a pair of dark blue skinny jeans. He raced back to the door as Mikey knocked again.

"Alright alright! Calm your tits." Mikey rolls his eyes and walks out to the kitchen. Gerard nervously fidgets with his sleeves before tripping over to his closet and grabbing a pair of black combat boots.

When he walked into the kitchen he saw his brother standing with a mug of coffee for him. "You're the best brother in the world," he says before chugging half of it. Mikey just ruffled his older brothers just brushed hair and sticks his tongue out.

"You didn't say that when we played Mario Kart" grinned the younger brother, remembering his victory. Little did he know his win was because of his sobriety, and less of his skill.

Gerard couldn't bring himself to tell his brother he'd barley been able to concentrate on the tv, because if Mikey knew he'd been drinking he would find a way to stop him.  That was the last thing he wanted. Gerard lightly shoved him "I don't have to give you a ride you know," and walked out to their car with Mikey rushing behind him.

"Okay, okay, I'll stop."

Gerard started the car, just one more day. The the next, then the next. Just focus on getting through today.