My Life As Sienna Brown

The air was stuffy and humid once I entered the room and had a pungent smell including cigarettes travelled to my nose. Piles of clothes were thrown carelessly around the room, hanging off furtanture and lining the floor, which was also filled with bottles.

"Gerard, I called, kicking a pill bottle out of my trail and hearing it rattle as it roled into a dresser.

There was no resonse and I took a second to observe my surroundings; to explore the room.

Gerard was curled in a mess of blankets and laundry that had been worn over the passed week and tossed on the bed. Looking beside the bed, I noticed beer bottles both empty and half-consumed. A basket of medications sat on an end table next to a clock that read 5:27; it was almost 2 o'clock. A pile of folded clothes were awkwardly folded near Gerard's art desk- the only area of the room that mantained some sort of order. I walked over to it only long enough to see a picture he had drawn of me. I sighed at this when I realized that I hadn't even thouched my camera in the last couple months.

I ran my fingers over the drawing and accidentally send a cup of pencils tumbling to the floor in a mess.

A startled Gerard shot up, half asleep. "What the fuck are you doing in here?"

I looked back, just as startled. He didn't seem as happy as I had hoped. But I smiled weakly anyways.

"Oh, it's just you," he grumbled, flopping back down to the matress.

"Yea," I remarked. "Why, you did you think it was?"

"You're boyfriend."

"Why would you think that?"

He yawned and stretched out his arms, sending the sound of stiff cracking joints through the air. When he finished, he looked at me apathetically. "Anna, what do you want?"

I was taken back. "What? Nothing... I just thought that maybe we could hang out or something. We're still friends, aren't we?"

He sighed, collaping tiredly into his pillow. "I can't really see why..."

"I can't see why not," I stated back.

"Pass me that bottle there," he stated, stretching out his arm to point at a bottle on the beside table: an innocent change in subject.

I sighed and gave it to him without arguement, watching as he shook a handful into his open palm and dry-swallowed the whole bunch.

I stared is strange disbelief. "Gerard, don't you have some sort of a daily limit on those things?"

He glared at me, " I thought you wanted to hang out, not be preachy."

I didn't try to argue. He was right.

"Want some," he asked, lifting the open container to eye level.

I began shaking my head unsurely, "Gee... What are those?"

"Anti-depressants," he said openly. "Calms you down a bit. There's some ritalin in there too. And some painkillers from my jaw," he told me, pointing towards the mysterious basket of his remedies.

I looked over my shoulder awkwardly. "Gerard, I never knew you were on anti-depressants."

"Yea, well you don't know everything about me, Anna."

I ignored his witty tone and asked, "What's wrong with your jaw?"

"It was in pain. Obviously. From the cist I had..."

"Gerard, why don't you liek me anymore," I asked curiously. "Why don't you liek anymone? You don't even talk to us anymore. You and I used to be friends."

"It's not like that," he mumbled, looking away from me after the desperation in my eyes had pierced his own. "It's complicated..."

"Complicated how?"

"I don't know," he grumbled.

"Well, did you want to go for coffee and talk about the complicated things?"

"Not really."

I sighed. "Well... Will you come anyways? I'll do the talking..."

He sighed and I hoped my eyes were pleading desperation just this once.

"Fine," he grumbled.

I smiled. "Thanks."