We'll Fly Home, You And I

I have 7 stars. *eye twitch* .Woah. I'm trying to get this out early cause I don't know when my parents will go psyco again. School starts soon. I miss my friends. On with the story. (a real plot is coming soon btw. I have awesom ideas)
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Second day of shooting "Famous Last Words." There is dirt everywhere. Everyone is coated completely from head to toe in it. It was one in the morning. But that didn't matter. I was too obsessed over the fire. I had been trying to touch it over the last three hours, but just as I'm about to, someone sees me and I have to act all natural. We had come up with the plan that I was Bryan's, their manager, niece that was visiting for . . . awhile.

I had heard "Welcome To The Black Parade" and "Famous Last Words" so much that they were officially engraved into my brain. Every time they would turn the music back on I would be slightly humming to myself while eyeing a mini bonfire going on next to Ray.

"Alright. Take five!" the director called. It was the same one from yesterday. I smirked and stealthily began to walk over to the fire. I sat down next to it and put my hand over it. Then I swished my hand through it quickly. Ha! I had stuck my hand in fire and it didn't burn me. My hand returned to hovering over the flames.

"Hannah!" I turned around to see Dad giving me a 'Don't-do-that' look. But as I turned, my hand had dropped into the inferno, which I didn't know until an intense pain shot through my finger, all the way up my arm, and into my shoulder.

"Ow! Owwah. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck." My body rolled around on the ground, my left hand squeezing my right wrist as if it would make the pain stop. I said every profanity that I could think of.

"Medic!" Dad yelled as he rushed over me. He was already out of breath from the shoot, I'm sure my little blip wasn't helping him rest.

"I'm fine. I'mfineI'mfineI'mfine." I was trying to convince myself. My eyes wandered down to my hand and saw that it was a swelling red, and twitching uncontrollably. "Ah!" A man rushed over and brought me far back to wear there were flood lights so he could see. "Ow." Shit, why do I have to be so stupid? He sat me down on a chair and examined my hand, he flipped it back and forth, sending me a short glance when he saw the scars on my wrists, but I ignored it. Dad stood off to the side, watching me. I looked over at him and he gave me a reassuring nod.

"It looks like a first degree burn. You should be fine." He poured liquid onto a rag and rubbed it on my hand. I made a hissing noise at its contact. Then, he wrapped it up in cloth. "Don't take this off for two days. When you do, run it under some cold water and try not to use it too much until it completely heals." He stood up and added before he left. "Stay away from the fire."

"Thank you." Mikey and Bob walked next to me just as Dad was coming over.

"Wow, what happened to you?" Mikey asked.

"She stuck her hand in the fire," Dad answered. I shrunk down into my chair.

"Ingenious! Why didn't I think of that?" Bob said before heading back to his drum set.

"Break's over!" the director called. I looked at my wrapped up burn. It seemed as if it was pulling all of my energy and strength into my hand, leaving the rest of me useless.

"I'm gonna go to bed."

"Alright. We won't come back until morning." He kissed me on top of my head and gave me a quick hug.

"Don't have a heat stroke!" I joked before he was too far away to hear it.

"I've already had five!"
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"Hannah. Hannah, wake up." Someone was shaking me in my bunk. I squeezed my eyes together then opened them. Uncle Mikey.

"What time is it?" I mumbled.

"Gerard and Bob are in the hospital."

"What!?" My head shot up and hit the bottom of the Ray's bunk above me. Why do I do this to myself? "What happened?"

"Bob burned his leg a lot worse than your hand, and Frank tackled Gerard and now his foot is. . ." He stopped. "Well, we don't know yet. We're taking Bryan's car and driving over to the hospital. Come on." I rolled out of my bunk, careful to watch my hand, and followed him out the bus.

We sat in the waiting room. Bryan was standing up next to a plastic tree. Frank, Mikey, and Ray had changed out of their costumes and were now stretched out over the chairs finding it quite hard to stay awake. A clicking noise was heard coming down the hall, and soon Dad appeared, hobbling along on his crutches. "Oh my god," I said. The rest of the guys looked up and saw him too. We rushed over to him and helped him to sit down in one of the chairs. "What happened?" I asked.

"Frank," he glared over to him as he said his name "strained all of the tendons in my foot." Our jaws dropped. "I can barely walk, but should be able to recover quickly."

"What about Bob?" Mikey asked. "Did they tell you anything about him?" He nodded.

"His leg has second degree burns and he won't be able to leave for awhile." I looked down at my hand. If a first degree hurt this much, I couldn't even begin to imagine what a second degree could feel like.

"We'll have to cancel the first two shows," Bryan said. All of our heads snapped over to him.

"What!?"

"We'll have to get a replacement for Bob and we can't have Gerard sitting in a chair the whole show." We were silent. I knew they hated canceling gigs like that. Practically last minute.

"When will we be able to see Bob?" I asked. He looked over to me. I could see all of the pain in his eyes as they looked back at into mine.

"I don't know."
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*sings* I AM NOT AFRAID TO KEEP COMMENTING!!