Basementgerard Stories

The compelling tale of basement dwelling, art loving, greasy teenager and an angsty, illegally tattooed, music loving punk

I originally wrote this in my notebook but I transferred it here ~enjoy~ VERY SLOW UPDATES!!!!

I don't have a family. These people don't own me. I don't have a home. People don't like me, but it's okay because neither do I. Oh, I haven't even told you that part yet. I guess I should now. I'm Gerard Way, a foster kid diagnosed with depression and anxiety. Fun. I have greasy black hair, pretty long. About down to my shoulders, I guess. My eyes are hazel, and I'm not as pale as I'd like, even though I never actually go outside. I'm part Italian, so I could be a vampire but I'd still have a sun tan. That's kinda cool I guess. I'm searching for my brother Mikey, and there's only one kid I know who has seen him before; Frank Iero.

He came like a thief in the night that had left by morning light ------ Gerard hadn't had anyone to turn to, aside from his brother, ever since they had moved to a new town. Until he showed up.