Famous Last Words

Gerard's POV

As I walked out towards the girl, I thought about what Bob had said. I chose to ignore it, because he couldn’t possibly know her or how innocent or guilty she may be. It just seemed peculiar to me that Bob would be so judgmental towards this one girl. I didn’t understand it, because usually Bob is the mediator of the group and helps us see how people are unique when we want to judge them. It didn’t make sense that he just tried to become the devil’s advocate. Our band is about saving people’s lives, why only do it through music?

Normal POV

It was like I was thrown back in time. A memory of mine that seems to haunt me every night; a memory that is so deeply engraved in my mind, promising that I will never forget that my life is far from perfect.

It was hours after I was told to go to bed. I was supposed to be asleep already. I wasn’t supposed to know that my family was far from perfect. I was supposed to be the perfect little girl of the perfect family. How was I to play the part if it was all a lie? Mommies and Daddies aren’t supposed to fight; they’re supposed to love each other. But my mommy and daddy seemed to everything but love. I’ve lost track at what the argument started out as this time. It always escalates into bringing the other’s faults into why our family’s life is so fucked up.

“WHY CAN’T YOU JUST LISTEN TO ME JUST ONE DAMN TIME?! YOU’RE A FUCKED UP BITCH, YOU CAN NEVER DO ANYTHING RIGHT!” I hear my father start up at my mom. I heard a crack through the house as his hand violently came in contact with her face, and then a thud as her body collapsed onto the ground. “I ask for one fucking favor, a simple one at that, and you can’t even do that. All I asked for was a son, it’s not that hard. And your fucked up body couldn’t even create that. Why did I even marry you in the first place? You’re obviously good for nothing.”

This was the first time that I had heard this specific argument. Most of it was over petty stuff, like forgetting to wash the dishes or not separating the white laundry from all of the colorful clothes. I quietly wandered out of my room and snuck over to the stairs, peeking in between the bars of the railing. Furniture was overturned; priceless heirlooms that I was not allowed to go near were thrown and broken all over the living room. It was needless to say that I was scared. I mean, hello, I was five.

“Daddy?” I whisper, first surprised that I spoke to begin with, and then hopeful that he didn’t hear me. Unfortunately, my hope was short lived. He looked up at me with such hatred, a look that I had never seen on his face. He looked so different then he did during the day. It scared me enough to bring tears to my eyes. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING UP? GO BACK TO YOUR ROOM DAMNIT!” He looked back at my mother, obviously done with me. “See, you can’t even train her to obey her own parents.”

I didn’t bother trying to hold my tears back as I quickly move back into my bedroom; my safe haven. I hear daddy say something along the lines of, “I’m done with this shit,” but I disregarded it. I just sat on my bed, crying and wishing that I had a family that didn’t fight every night. It had to have been about an hour, when I started smelling burnt wood and hearing the roar that a lion might make. I was curious, so I opened the door of my bedroom to see the orange glow of the strong fire. The flames licked my skin, burning it before the pain came. But once the pain came, and the pain came hard, I was quick to pull away and shut my door again. I looked down at my arm to see that some of my skin had melted away, leaving my arm very raw, and the surrounding area was black as it was burnt to a lesser degree. I let myself forget about the pain for now, as I wondered what I was supposed to do. I had an odd feeling that mommy and daddy were not going to come and get me.

I looked around my room that had all of my favorite toys and stuffed animals in it. Especially Hammie, my stuffed piggy. I couldn’t bring all of my stuff out of the house that much I knew. There just wasn’t enough time. So I quickly grabbed Hammie and spent the next ten minutes struggling to get the window open. My body is smaller and weaker then the average five-year-old. I do manage to open it though, even though my lungs are quickly filling with smoke. I grab Hammie and jump, knowing that the two story drop is going to hurt.

My eyes snap open and I scream; knowing that it’s going to hurt when I fall. “NO! I’M SORRY DADDY!” I quickly look around at my surroundings, realizing that I’m not outside. I also realize that I’m crying hysterically. “Shh, calm down.” I hear a male’s voice say as I feel a hand on my back. As soon as I feel it, I dart across the room, trying to get away from the potentially dangerous man. I feel my breath getting constricted as my lungs tighten together, making it difficult for me to breathe. “No, no, no. Not again. Please.” I mumble to myself, wishing to be outside of that diner. I was safe there, obviously not as safe as I would have liked, but safe nonetheless.

My breath is chopped and labored. I try to get as much precious air as I can, knowing that if I can’t calm myself down, I’m screwed. “Where am I?” I try to whisper, even though it came out sounding like rubbish. I would be surprised if anybody really understood what I had asked. But I couldn’t bother to hear the answer over the ringing and pounding being smashed together in my head and creating a migraine bad enough to make even the strongest man cry. I faintly hear a door open and words being exchanged. “Hyperventilating. You…calm…down.”

“…know that…won’t let…near her.”

“Listen…water…Ray. He’s good…” I bang my head against the wall, although it won’t do me any good. It gives me something to do. I keep my eyes closed, thinking about that horrible night.

I remember after I jumped, while I was falling, I felt so free. Like I was controlling whether I lived or died. And then I came in contact with the ground. I did the worst thing possible and tried landing vertically. Obviously I broke my ankle. I had sat down on the ground and just looked up at my old home being destroyed by the fire. I knew that I had to leave, or the fire would spread to me too. I grabbed Hammie and ran as far as I could, with the adrenaline acting as a numbing medication for my ankle. I came to the conclusion that if I didn’t pay attention to the pain, then it didn’t exist. Eventually, I ran into Ray and knocked the both of us down. His mom took one look at me and sent me to the hospital. I later found out that they had to put me in surgery to deal with the third degree that I had acquired on my arm, and my ankle was wrapped in an ugly pink cast. The doctor’s told me that my mom and dad were killed in the fire. They didn’t escape, but I did. The Toro’s didn’t want me to have to go in foster care, so they adopted me. But then I…

“Carla!” I open my eyes and look straight into Ray’s eyes. My heart leaps with joy, and I don’t know whether to be happy, sad, or mad. Although, right now I’m scared, because my panic attacks have never lasted this long, and I can’t get rid of it. I start shaking, and I feel like the room doesn’t have any air in it at all. “Ray? Help.” I squeak, closing my eyes again. He takes me in his arms and gently hugs me. I flinch at the contact, subconsciously thinking that he’s going to hurt me.

“Shh. Deep breaths, baby girl. You can do it. In. Out. Where’s your medication?” I try and listen to what he’s telling me. I cry out in frustration and shakily take the two pill bottles out of my hoodie pockets. One is for my anxiety, the other is for my insomnia. Ray takes one of my hands and lightly pushes it against his chest, right above his heart. He then places his free hand and presses it right above my heart. “Follow me, Carla. Can you feel my heartbeat?” I shake my head. No, I couldn’t. He pulled us closer together and started breathing deeper. So deep that his shoulders moved. I watched them, wishing that I could match them. “Shh, what are you thinking about?” I take a sharp and painful breath as the yawn felt like it had shocked my heart.

“Mama, we all go to hell. And when we go, don’t blame us.” I could feel my heart rate slowing down and I yawn again. “We’ll let the fire just bathe us. You made us all so famous. We’ll never, let you go. And when you go, don’t return.” I squirm around, getting comfortable. I then continue. “I should have been have been a better son. She said you ain’t no son of mine. For what you’ve done…” After that, I lose my train of thought as my exhausted brain begins to hibernate.