Don't Pity Me

He is a killer.
Born blood cold.
He goes by the name of Gerard Way.
And if you want to live, you will stay out of his way.

He’s a hunter.
He’s god’s slave. Only alive to do his bidding.
He knows this. He’s proved this.
Many times.
And he counts off the kills he’s done, to himself that is.

How do I know this?
Because, I am him.

Countless times have I placed a gun to my own head.
And countless times have I pulled the trigger.
But god doesn’t want me to die.
Yet.

Don’t believe I’ve tried to kill myself?
Watch me.
Watch me place the barrel to my head.
Watch me pull the trigger.
Go on. I dare you.
Then watch me stand.
Watch the blood fade.
And watch me scratch another line in to that wall.

Don’t pity me.
Pity those poor fools that I kill everyday.
Pity the wall.
Pity the people that walk the earth.
Don’t pity me.
Never pity me.

I will never give up.
I can’t give up.
One day, god will let his guard down.
And let me die.
But not yet.

So another day.
Another suicide attempt.
Ready. Here we go.
Bang.
Am I dead?
No. Didn’t think so.
Another line on the wall.
How many is that now?
Lets count.
One, two, three, four. Man, this could take a while.
Get back to me soon.
Then I’ll tell you.
I think the last time I counted, it was around 1830 tries.
But now I’m not sure.
Who knows when that was.
Four years ago.
That’s when.

You’d think I would’ve learned by now.
Nope.
Never.
But still, don’t pity me.
Pity yourself.
Cause now your going to die.
See.
Now you’re scared, all because I’m holding a gun to your head.
Come on.
It doesn’t hurt.
Much.
But it only hurts for a second.
When the bullet imbeds itself into your brain.
Then builds speed.
And leaves through the other side of your skull.

Guess it didn’t like its new home.
See, pains gone already.
Oops, your brains are all over the wall.
Oh dear.
What a shame your blood doesn’t fade like mine.
But it left such a pretty pattern.
Hey, stand when I talk to you.
Oh wait.
Your dead.
How can you?

Never mind then.

God left me a message today.
He said that he wants more people dead.
What does he want me to do?
Throw a bomb of the top of a building?
Wait.
That is a good idea.
But where to get the bomb from…
The same place I get my guns from.
The closet!

Oh yes, perfect.
Nice and big, with lots of C4.
Perfect.
Time to put it in the bag.
Lets go.
Up the stairs.
Biggest building I can find.
Its not like I’m going to get arrested for any of this.
Cause no one is alive to catch me.
Trust me.
I know.
I shoot them all in the head.
Its great fun.
First I give them a chance.
Then I threaten them.
They laugh at me.
So I pull out my gun.
And shoot them in the middle of the forehead.
Guess who’s laughing now?

God.

But that doesn’t matter anymore.
Finally!
Top of the building!
Very windy.
Oh well.
Doesn’t matter.
Set the timer for 1 minute.
Close the bag.
And push it off the building.
Watch it fly.

Look at it fall.
Look at it land.
Right in the middle of the busy street.
Damn, no one crushed on impact.
But wait.
The fun has just begun.
Ready.
Wait.
Three.
Two.
One.
Bang.
Awesome.
That was so cool.
It was like a chain reaction wave.
The ground cracked.
The buildings shook.
The glass cracked.
The people died.
And I got the best view.
Standing on top of a building.
Right on the edge.
With glass flying.
Everywhere.
Even reaching me.
And hitting me.
It looked so awesome.
Man, I wish I had my camera.

Did I tell you that I’m a photo gopher?
Yeah.
I know you’re surprised.
Not everyone would think a crazy suicidal maniac murderer would like taking photos.
But my photos are great.
They’re of death.
Like when I’m trying to die.
I take photos then.
And when I shoot other people?
Yeah, then too.
But that shot looked spectacular.
Glass flying everywhere.
With a person standing on top of a building.
Not a care in the world.
Just looking down at the world.
Feeling like god.

Its really high up here.
If someone was to fall, they would probably die.
But not me.
I will never die.
Not until god’s satisfied.
But when will that be?
Probably never.