The Mirror Doesn't Lie
Chapter 7
Disclaimer: I do not own any members of My Chemical Romance nor any Lyrics or songs that may be used. I do however, own this plot. Please Don't steal
Gerard's Point Of View
I heard the door open and I looked up to see Frankie. He sighed heavily, the only sound in the silent room and turned around to face me. He looked like her was carrying a heavy burden and he look pained. I wish I could take the pain away, he shouldn’t be unhappy, he should be happy. He deserved to be happy. I didn’t. It was so stupid to think that maybe I could have had a chance for it. So stupid…
He sat down in the seat next to my bed and looked me in the eyes, holding my gaze so I couldn’t look way.
“Gerard…D-Do you know why you’re in here..?” he said slowly, gently, almost as if he feared I would break. I shook my head, confused.
“Gerard, what’s the last thing you remember?” he said, staring at me closely.
I shuffled back a little bit before answering. “I remember…we were at band practice and I was singing, then everything went blurry and then nothing…” I said, leaving out the parts about the dizziness before. He doesn’t have to know about that, he was already worried enough. Frank nodded leaning back into the chair to give me some room. I pulled my legs up next to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, for some reason it comforted me. He reached out slowly, hesitantly and placed his hand over my own. I didn’t flinch back or make an attempt to move from his grasp, I didn’t want to offend him. He breathed out with almost..relief?
“Gerard...You fainted, the doctors say it was lack of nutrition” Frank said, looking at me questioningly. My eyes widened and I looked away. It couldn’t be true. He was lying. I must be eating more than ever, how else would I have gotten this big? I shuddered in disgust.
Frankie’s hand moved from my hand to my back, gently patting it.
I heard him shift uncomfortably on the seat“Gerard, When’s the last time you ate?”
I answered almost instantly “Yesterday”
Technically I wasn’t lying. I did eat…Just not a lot, but it’s not like I really need to eat. I’m too fat already.
Frank sighed heavily.
"And when was the last time you kept it in your stomach?”
I froze and pulled away from his grasp. Why did he question me? Couldn’t he see how this was making me better? I was making myself better. For him.
“Frankie, I’m fine” I said, purposely avoiding the question. I hoped he didn’t notice and would just let it go. He didn’t.
“See that’s the thing Gerard! I don’t think you are” he cried standing up, anger and disappointment radiating off him. I shrunk back into the pillows, wrapping my arms securely around my middle to stop myself from shaking.
“You think you’re fine but you’re not! Gerard, you’re fading away before my eyes!” I shook my head, attempting to block out the lies trying to worm themselves into my brain.
“Gerard…I-I don’t wanna lose you” he sobbed, collapsing into the chair while tears spilled down his cheeks. He made no effort to wipe them away.
I hesitantly leaned over and wrapped my thick arms around his tiny, perfect form. He kept sobbing as I made an effort to soothe him. after a few minutes I managed to hush his cries down so only occasionally a sob would escape his lips.
“It’s going to be fine Frankie, okay?” I said quietly, not really expecting him to answer. I detached my arms from around him and lent back on the bed.
“Nothing’s going to be fine Gerard!” he said,looking up and turning to look at me sharply “You’re destroying yourself because of this…illness! I refuse to stand by and let you slowly kill yourself!!”
I stared at him, confused. If he really hated me this much why doesn’t he just leave me to drown in my misery? It didn’t make sense the way he kept holding on to me, as if he was afraid of letting me go…
“-Wait, what…illness?” I said puzzled. He looked at me in disbelief.
“I never realized it was this bad…” he mumbled to himself, not meaning for me to hear.
“What are you talking about?” I asked. He really wasn’t making any sense to me. What was he talking about? Did I miss something?
“You're bulimic Gerard!!” he yelled, his hands gripping the hand-rests so tightly that he threatened to leave an imprint.
Bulimia. I struggled to remember. It was an eating disorder. Sufferers from it would eat and eat then throw up because they felt guilty in some way. And I gathered from news reports and articles that the people that suffered from it were usually pretty skinny and had this distorted view on their bodies…
This couldn’t be right. I wasn’t bulimic. I couldn’t be. Sure, I threw up once or twice but I needed to. And I wasn’t thin, I was fat. So fat and disgusting it still amazed me that people could look at me. It was impossible to think that. I had perfect control as well. I knew what I was doing, I could stop but that would prevent me from reaching my goal of perfection or at least becoming someone worthy to be around Frankie.
“No…” I said, my voice sounded hollow, empty. He couldn’t be right. It didn’t make sense. My frame was huge and no matter what I did, it stayed that way…I couldn’t be bulimic. I couldn’t be. I felt Frankie place his small, delicate hand on my own as he sobbed beside me
“It’s okay Gerard” he whispered. “We’re going to help you”
But I knew they couldn’t. No-one could.
Gerard's Point Of View
I heard the door open and I looked up to see Frankie. He sighed heavily, the only sound in the silent room and turned around to face me. He looked like her was carrying a heavy burden and he look pained. I wish I could take the pain away, he shouldn’t be unhappy, he should be happy. He deserved to be happy. I didn’t. It was so stupid to think that maybe I could have had a chance for it. So stupid…
He sat down in the seat next to my bed and looked me in the eyes, holding my gaze so I couldn’t look way.
“Gerard…D-Do you know why you’re in here..?” he said slowly, gently, almost as if he feared I would break. I shook my head, confused.
“Gerard, what’s the last thing you remember?” he said, staring at me closely.
I shuffled back a little bit before answering. “I remember…we were at band practice and I was singing, then everything went blurry and then nothing…” I said, leaving out the parts about the dizziness before. He doesn’t have to know about that, he was already worried enough. Frank nodded leaning back into the chair to give me some room. I pulled my legs up next to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, for some reason it comforted me. He reached out slowly, hesitantly and placed his hand over my own. I didn’t flinch back or make an attempt to move from his grasp, I didn’t want to offend him. He breathed out with almost..relief?
“Gerard...You fainted, the doctors say it was lack of nutrition” Frank said, looking at me questioningly. My eyes widened and I looked away. It couldn’t be true. He was lying. I must be eating more than ever, how else would I have gotten this big? I shuddered in disgust.
Frankie’s hand moved from my hand to my back, gently patting it.
I heard him shift uncomfortably on the seat“Gerard, When’s the last time you ate?”
I answered almost instantly “Yesterday”
Technically I wasn’t lying. I did eat…Just not a lot, but it’s not like I really need to eat. I’m too fat already.
Frank sighed heavily.
"And when was the last time you kept it in your stomach?”
I froze and pulled away from his grasp. Why did he question me? Couldn’t he see how this was making me better? I was making myself better. For him.
“Frankie, I’m fine” I said, purposely avoiding the question. I hoped he didn’t notice and would just let it go. He didn’t.
“See that’s the thing Gerard! I don’t think you are” he cried standing up, anger and disappointment radiating off him. I shrunk back into the pillows, wrapping my arms securely around my middle to stop myself from shaking.
“You think you’re fine but you’re not! Gerard, you’re fading away before my eyes!” I shook my head, attempting to block out the lies trying to worm themselves into my brain.
“Gerard…I-I don’t wanna lose you” he sobbed, collapsing into the chair while tears spilled down his cheeks. He made no effort to wipe them away.
I hesitantly leaned over and wrapped my thick arms around his tiny, perfect form. He kept sobbing as I made an effort to soothe him. after a few minutes I managed to hush his cries down so only occasionally a sob would escape his lips.
“It’s going to be fine Frankie, okay?” I said quietly, not really expecting him to answer. I detached my arms from around him and lent back on the bed.
“Nothing’s going to be fine Gerard!” he said,looking up and turning to look at me sharply “You’re destroying yourself because of this…illness! I refuse to stand by and let you slowly kill yourself!!”
I stared at him, confused. If he really hated me this much why doesn’t he just leave me to drown in my misery? It didn’t make sense the way he kept holding on to me, as if he was afraid of letting me go…
“-Wait, what…illness?” I said puzzled. He looked at me in disbelief.
“I never realized it was this bad…” he mumbled to himself, not meaning for me to hear.
“What are you talking about?” I asked. He really wasn’t making any sense to me. What was he talking about? Did I miss something?
“You're bulimic Gerard!!” he yelled, his hands gripping the hand-rests so tightly that he threatened to leave an imprint.
Bulimia. I struggled to remember. It was an eating disorder. Sufferers from it would eat and eat then throw up because they felt guilty in some way. And I gathered from news reports and articles that the people that suffered from it were usually pretty skinny and had this distorted view on their bodies…
This couldn’t be right. I wasn’t bulimic. I couldn’t be. Sure, I threw up once or twice but I needed to. And I wasn’t thin, I was fat. So fat and disgusting it still amazed me that people could look at me. It was impossible to think that. I had perfect control as well. I knew what I was doing, I could stop but that would prevent me from reaching my goal of perfection or at least becoming someone worthy to be around Frankie.
“No…” I said, my voice sounded hollow, empty. He couldn’t be right. It didn’t make sense. My frame was huge and no matter what I did, it stayed that way…I couldn’t be bulimic. I couldn’t be. I felt Frankie place his small, delicate hand on my own as he sobbed beside me
“It’s okay Gerard” he whispered. “We’re going to help you”
But I knew they couldn’t. No-one could.
♠ ♠ ♠
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