Battling the Loss You Live For.

It was one of those clear, blue days.
You know those days where it rains non-stop, and the next day is all blue skies with no clouds? That’s exactly what it was.
…Until we flicked to the news.
“-Claims that it was related to a suicide attack-”
“-The World Trade Centre, also known as the Twin Towers have been the subject of terrorist attacks-”
“-Current death toll to be at around six hundred, and still rising-”
“-At exactly eight-forty-six am, one plane had crashed into one of the towers, another aircraft shortly colliding with the other tower-”
What the fuck was going on?! It was the same on every news channel.
“Sazzy! Can you come here for a sec?” I called, sitting up properly and turning the volume up.
“Yeah, what is it?” she said, walking in and passing me a plate of toast, Marilyn on her hip. I pointed to the TV, and she turned, staring at it from my side.
“-dust is a rising impact upon the city of New York, as the buildings have begun to collapse over the city centre-”
“Oh my god!” Sazzy cried, her eyes were wide, her hand pressed to her mouth, “Gerard is in New York!”
“Shit!” I muttered, grabbing my cell and dialling his number.
“It’s gone straight to voicemail,” I said, throwing my phone on the coffee table, as Dymian began wailing from the kitchen.
“Frank, take Marilyn… keep trying Gerard,” she said hurriedly, as Marilyn leaped from her arms to mine. She came back seconds later; Dymian balanced on her hip sucking his pacifier. Tears were glazing Sazzy’s eyes, and she wiped them as she carried on watching the news.
“Babe, come sit here,” I said, stretching my free arm to her, and she sat next to me on the sofa, my arm wrapping around her shoulders.
“Everything will be fine,” I said, as she sniffed, wiping at her tears again.
Marilyn gurgled, asking for my attention. I turned to her, and she leant forward, her open mouth briefly hitting my lips. That was the kid’s way of giving us a kiss. I grinned at her, pouting slightly so she’d do it again. She did, wrapping her tiny arms around my neck and snuggling into my neck after.
“You gonna give Mama a kiss?” I asked her, and she leaped at Sazzy, attacking her with her lips. Sazzy smiled, letting Marilyn hug her before Dymian lifted his hands in front of him, opening and closing his fists over and over again at the play pen in the corner. Sazzy stood up, putting him in there, as Marilyn whinged, asking to be put into the pen too.
Sazzy sat down next to me again after, and I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close to me.
“Your Mom, have you rung her, yet?”
“…No, I totally- I never thought of that,” she said, picking up the home phone on the end table beside her, and dialling quickly.
“Hello? Mum?”
There was a short silence; Sazzy still nestled into my side as she pressed the phone to her ear.
“Have you heard from him? Oh…” her eyes closed, in slight relief.
“Thank you. Just tell- no, his phone is switched off. But what did he say? …Oh, but- okay, I’ll see you later.”
“Good news?” I said, as she put the phone back on the receiver.
“Kind of… she said that she spoke to him on the phone, and he told her that he was okay. He’s on his way back ho-”
We heard the door rattle, the way it did just before someone walked in. We waited with baited breath, hearing a shuddering sigh.
Gerard walked through into the living room, his eyes slightly puffy and tired, and his shirt slightly torn at the collar.
“Gerard!” Sazzy cried, making the kids look up from their toys in the pen, watching as Sazzy rushed over, hugging her brother to her. His eyes closed as he wound his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder. I walked over to them, joining in on the hug.
“How bad is it?”
“As bad as they say. Worse…” Gee mumbled, replying to my question, his hair tickling my face. He pulled away, brushing his raven-black dyed hair out of his face and rubbing his eyes.
“Can I have a pen and a bit of paper?”
I stepped back, grabbing a pencil and pad of paper out of the drawer from the end table, passing it over to him as Sazzy gave him a funny look. He sat down, and I sat with him, watching as the pencil glided over the paper as he wrote. He was writing words, not anything that made sense together in particular, but I didn’t ask.
Alone
Fright
Scared
Fire
Silence
Confusion
Shock
Sorrow
Cold
Stolen
Hollow
Broken
He flipped the page over, writing on the back of the same page:
We walk in single file,
We light our rails and punch our time
Ride escalators colder than a cell
Broken city skyline likeacid butane on my soul
“No… change that soul to… skin,” I said, and he looked at me, thinking.
“Yeah, you’re right…” he said, crossing out the ‘soul’ and writing out ‘skin’. I looked back at it.
Broken city skyline likeacid butane on mysoul skin
“What the hell are you doing?” Sazzy asked, her eyebrows furrowed at us in confusion.
“Writing,” I said, making her moan in frustration, then walk off to the kids in the pen. Gerard looked back to the paper, and began again.
stolen from my eyes, tell me where we go from here…
“I want to get that feeling… it was like your chest had been hollowed out, and turned into a cave… like-”
“That’s good, write that out… ‘inside that cave of your chest’…” I said, and he did, stopping at ‘cave’.
“-cave you call a chest,” he mumbled, scribbling that instead. I nodded in approval.

We sat like that, writing phrases, words and feelings, for hours. It was until the twins were in bed that I realised that I was starving, and that it was seven thirty in the evening. The last time I checked, it was around eleven!
“Gee, aren’t you hungry?” I said, leaning back on the sofa. He looked up from the pad of paper, which was half- filled with scribbles of words, feelings, and the lyrics that Gee had started with some help from me and bit of input from Sazzy.
“…Fuck, I’m famished.”
“…Well,” we heard Sazzy mumble, as she approached in the doorway, leaning on the frame.
“I’ve started cooking. But let me see what you’ve got so far before you guys eat.”
“Alright… but it’s not in order, yet, I don’t think, and we’re not properly sure on music, so I’ll sing it out,” Gerard said, before taking a deep breath, looking down at the page.

You're not in this alone
Let me break this awkward silence
Let me go, go on record
Be the first to say I'm sorry
Hear me out,
And if you take me down
Or would you lay me out?
And if the world needs something better
Let's give them one more reason now, now, now

We walk in single file
We light our rails and punch our time
Ride escalators colder than a cell

This broken city sky like butane on my skin
Stolen from my eyes
Hello Angel, tell me where are you?
Tell me where we go from here

This broken city sky like butane on my skin
Stolen from my eyes
Hello Angel, tell me where are you?
Tell me where we go from here
Tell me we go from…

And in this moment we can't close the lids on burning eyes
Our memories blanket us with friends we know like fallout vapours
Steel corpses stretch out towards an ending sun, scorched and black
It reaches in and tears your flesh apart
As ice cold hands rip into your heart

That's if you've still got one that's left inside that cave you call a chest
And after seeing what we saw, can we still reclaim our innocence
And if the world needs something better, let's give them one more reason now

This broken city sky like butane on my skin
Stolen from my eyes
Hello Angel, tell me where are you?
Tell me where we go from here

This broken city sky like butane on my skin
Stolen from my eyes
Hello Angel, tell me where are you?
Tell me where we go from here
Tell me we go from here…

“Oh my god, you guys, that is great!” Sazzy said, her eyes wide, “and Gee, you’re voice, it’s so…”
“…Thanks,” he said, smiling a little.
“But don’t change a thing, okay? Not a thing. It’s perfect,” she said, nodding enthusiastically.
“I don’t know, sis… I mean, it’s too… raw.”
“But that’s what’s so amazing about it! It’s raw, real, and has an edge,” she explained, looking to me for support. I nodded, knowing what she meant. It was too good to mess around with.
“What’re you gonna call it?” Sazzy asked, seeing Gerard shrug, then nod in acceptance.
“I’m not sure, but I think…” he started, looking down at the bit of paper with the random words scrawled on.
“…Skylines and Turnstiles.”