Under Jersey Skies

Gerard’s POV

I walked the whole way home in pain. To passers by, I must have looked like some kind of retarded homeless person, covered in dirt and blood, walking with a limp. The dirt seeped into my wounds and stung, and I only hoped they wouldn’t get infected.

I shuffled up to my front door, still limping, and pulled my keys out of my pocket. I unlocked the door and slowly and quietly opened it, as to not wake Donald, who was asleep in the lounge room. The short trip up the stairs was agonizingly painful, my leg really could not do it right now, but I was relieved when I reached the second floor and was able to retreat to my bedroom.

I sat down on my bed, and buried my face in my hands. Almost instantly I began to cry, hysterically. Just when things were starting to go right for me, just as I was starting to find a little piece of hope to hold onto, life decided to take another swipe at me.

But, oh no, it was my fault wasn’t it? My own fault I’d slept with my best friend’s girlfriend, my own fault that Frank had beaten me when he caught us, my own fault that I’d just lost one of my best friends. Should’ve kept it in your pants, Way.

But… I love her…

I felt a tug at my heart as I thought those words. Sure, I loved her, but that didn’t make it all okay. I shouldn’t have slept with her, no matter how strong my feelings for her. I’d brought this all on myself, but whatever, I knew I was a fuck up anyway.

I growled in frustration, and hauled myself up off my bed, heading for the bathroom. I smacked the door open and slammed it shut again, letting out another angered growl as I locked it. I wrenched the cupboard behind the mirror open, and snatched up the blade.

I sat on the floor, and slowly drew the blade across my wrist. But this time I wasn’t satisfied with just a small cut, I dug the blade in deeper, and then began slashing at my other wrist. Blood spilled out on the floor all around me, and I knew these cuts, which were more like gashes, would scar.

I began laughing manically at the pain, tears streaming out of my eyes. When a sudden dizzy spell hit me, I cut it out, and got up from the floor to clean my wounds and bandage them up.

I filled up a bucket with water and just spilled it over the blood, letting it run into the drain in the middle of the bathroom. I’d only bother cleaning it up properly if there were stains left by it.

I left the bathroom and passed through my bedroom, heading downstairs. I crept past Donald, who was asleep in the lounge room as usual, once in the kitchen, I stole a bottle of Jack Daniels from the fridge, along with the container that held my Dad’s sleeping pills.

I crept back upstairs and into my room, and sat down on my bed. I popped a couple of the pills, and washed them down with a swig of Jack, screwing my face up at the taste.

Shoulda mixed it.

I shrugged it off, and popped a few more, again washing them down with Jack. I flopped back on my bed, and continued to drown my sorrows until I blacked out…