Holding My Heart

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Ann’s POV

“No!” I struggled underneath Gerard.

“Shhh, my darling. It will be ok. I promise you that. I will not hurt you.”

I felt his cold fingers of his left hand brush my loose strains of hair to the side of my face. I looked up at him and stopped struggling for a second. His hazel eyes had seemed to lose color.

“Gerard why are you do such things to me?”

“Because my sweet, you deserve this.”

“Get off of me!”

He let his smile return to his face, “Why? I know you don’t mind this.”

That’s when I bolted up in my bed. My eyes wide open and I took in a shaky breath. That dream was weird. It was like it was a memory of years ago. Well, I gathered that much because of the clothing.

“You ok?”

I looked over at Brendon and nodded,” Yeah. Bad dream…”

I watched as Brendon’s hand stroke my check and sat up, “Do you want to talk about it hun?”

“No, I’m ok.”

Then that’s when it happened again. An image fluttering over my eyes. Gerard covered in something black and feathers. Brendon was there with William. They were all angry and spitting on Gerard. He was shoved forward and he hit the ground. He glared and hissed.

It looked like time had rewound itself. I was watching it go backwards slowly and then it stopped. Like someone hit stop and play.

“How dare you! You filthy fiend!” Brendon lunged towards Gerard. Gerard was being held by a two other men, “A disgrace! You will not show your face to in town again.”

Gerard smiled, “I will raise a plague and you will suffer! If I can’t have her then nor can you.”

“You won’t touch my Ann.”

“Ann! ANN!”

I blinked and felt myself being shook, “Brendon stop! I’m fine.”

His concerned brown pupils looked worried, “You just blacked out. What’s going on?”

I stammered, “I….I…I don’t know Bren. It’s just-”

I slipped out from underneath my blankets and headed over to my bookshelf. Huckleberry Finn had to be the one with it. I reached for it and pulled it out. I flipped through it.

Tarred and feathered.

I closed the book and placed it back as Brendon spoke, “What’s wrong?”

“Brendon? You know what it means to be tarred and feathered right?”

He nodded when I looked at him, “Back then when there were people that the town considered bad or con-artists they used to pour tar over the person’s skin and then beat them with feather pillows. It would last at least for a month. So if the person wanted to go to town people knew that the person was a bad one.”

I held a serious look, “Was Gerard ever tarred and feathered?”

He nodded slowly, “Yes.”

“I think I just had a flashback of that.”

Brendon’s faced harden into a solemn look, “We won’t speak of that.”

“But.”

His voice got loud, “We won’t speak of it!”

I looked down at myself and I was wearing shorts and my tee shirt. I’ll be good. I looked at my window and the sun was out. Perfect. I looked Brendon and took off out of my room. I heard him calling my name but I made it down the steps.

As I reached the bottom stair Brendon appeared in front of me, “Where are you going?”

“Out.”

“Where?”

“To Pete’s. I’ll be fine. I’ll be right back.”

He looked like he didn’t believe me. Hell, he can read me but he wouldn’t move. I tried to dive under his arm. He wouldn’t let me go but he leaned in and kissed my cheek. His lips were cold against my skin.

He pulled away, “Be careful.”

I brushed past him and grabbed my shoes on the way. Once I hit the outside light I blinked a few times. It was extremely bright for a day like this.

I took off down the streets running. People were slipping past me as I ran in the opposite direction. Where was I going? To the tree. The tree I was when Gerard was. Right as I was going home.

When I reached it I was bent over panting. I looked up and there sat Gerard smirking under the tree. Frank was hanging upside down giggling. Frank stopped when he saw me and his smile grew.

Gerard stood up slowly, “Hello sugar. Can I help you with something?”

I was still panting, “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why were you tarred and feathered?”

Frank started laughing, “Oh man! I remember that!”

Gerard smirked and looked at his arms, “I still have some of the burns. The tar was warm.”

I asked again and still making sure that I was in the sun, “Why?”

“Why hasn’t your precious little Urie told you?”

“Why were you tarred and feathered?”

Gerard let the edges of his lips curl, “Come closer and I will tell you.”

I took a step closer, “Tell me.”

Gerard walked to the edge of the shadow and to where I was standing, “Tell me, are his kisses on your skin sweeter then mine?”

I stuttered, “What?”
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