Status: Currently on hold (evil writer's block) though I fully intend to finish this story eventually.
My Favorite Part Was Dying
A Broken Boy
After another little chat with one more delightful staff-person Gerard was ready to explode. Mr. Canatti sent him back to class, thankfully not asking too many questions after realizing that Gerard was "that student that had just lost his brother."
As he edged into room 219, he saw all heads turn to him. Gerard knew he was in for a rotten English class. He handed Mr. Perez his late pass and made his way to a desk in the corner, close to Bob and Ray (Frank wasn't there, he had Biology first period). When little, balding Mr. Perez was busy writing up assignments on the blackboard Ray and Bob turned to Gerard.
"Hey," Ray said gently. Gerard twitched as way of greeting.
"What happened to Andrews? People are saying you punched him," Bob inquired. Gerard nodded and explained what had happened.
"It's weird though, I've never punched anyone before...." He looked down at his hand, a shadow was forming on his knuckles, tomorrow it would be a clearly visible bruise. Bob and Ray were obviously at a loss for words. Gerard bent down and grabbed his sketchbook from off the floor, avoiding his friends' eyes as he did so.
"Okay, so everybody turn to page 342, read until the end of the section and then answer the questions on page 351 in your English journals." Mr. Perez called to the class, just as he finished writing down the same instructions on the board. He had a bit of an accent that Gerard could never quite place. Maybe Mexican or Puerto Rican?
Why am I sitting here wondering about my teacher's ethnicity? Gerard thought to himself as he pulled a large textbook from his bag and opened it on top of his sketchbook to page 342. He stared down at the words on the page, nothing made sense. He couldn't process what the letters came together to say. After staring at it for a good ten minutes he closed it and found a fresh page in his sketchbook where he began to draw.
He wasn't even sure what he was drawing until it had taken on more shape -- it was a young boy, probably no more than twelve. Naked, bleeding, and crying in the corner of a dark room. A room that at first glance appeared empty, but if he focused on the shading he had done, looked like demons were hiding at the edges, just outside of view, casting shadows over the boy. He stared at the sketch, slightly confused and disgusted by it.
What the hell does this mean? Gerard was completely lost in thought and didn't even realize when Mr. Perez came over to him.
"Gerard. You're supposed to be working. Your book should be open --" he began to scold him. But he paused, looking down at the drawing on Gerard's desk.
Shit... Gerard thought to himself as he quickly closed his sketchbook.
"Can I talk to you outside for a minute, Mr. Way?" Gerard nodded silently and stood up, following his teacher out into the hall.
I haven't even been in school for an hour... how have I managed to get in trouble three times? He slowly looked up at Perez, waiting for an onslaught that didn't come. After a moment of silence Mr. Perez laid his hand on Gerard's shoulder. He twitched and backed away slightly.
"You just lost your brother, correct?" Gerard nodded feebly.
"I think it would be good for you to go and talk to Mrs. McKenna, the counselor." he spoke with a kind, almost questioning tone of voice.
"I was just there. She couldn't help me...." Gerard tried to explain.
"I see.... What was that picture of?"
"I - I don't really know." Gerard answered honestly. He looked into his teacher's eyes. They looked worried but something else lingered in them too... repulsion. Mr. Perez blinked and looked away, but it was too late, Gerard had already seen what this man thought of him.
"I think I'd like to go home... I need to go home." Gerard spoke, his voice wavering slightly.
"Go get your things and go to the nurse's office."
Gerard nodded and quickly went back into the classroom, grabbing his things, muttering goodbyes to Ray and Bob, and heading right back out into the hall, straight for the nurse.
* * *
His father sat silently the entire car ride home. That suited Gerard fine, he had done enough talking for one day. He held his bag and sketchpad tight to him, only moving when the car had finally come to a stop in front of their tiny little brick house.
Gerard rushed inside and went straight to his room. He threw his backpack in the corner and grabbed a pencil from his messy desk, opening his sketchbook again. He stared at the words that he found on the picture he had just drawn in English. Words someone had graffitied his personal book with.
God, Mikey, I can't deal with this. I need you right now. Come back to me.... he thought as he read the words covering the broken boy.
"CRY FAG CRY
YOU'RE BROTHER'S DEAD
YOU'RE GONNA FRY
CRY FAG CRY"
As he edged into room 219, he saw all heads turn to him. Gerard knew he was in for a rotten English class. He handed Mr. Perez his late pass and made his way to a desk in the corner, close to Bob and Ray (Frank wasn't there, he had Biology first period). When little, balding Mr. Perez was busy writing up assignments on the blackboard Ray and Bob turned to Gerard.
"Hey," Ray said gently. Gerard twitched as way of greeting.
"What happened to Andrews? People are saying you punched him," Bob inquired. Gerard nodded and explained what had happened.
"It's weird though, I've never punched anyone before...." He looked down at his hand, a shadow was forming on his knuckles, tomorrow it would be a clearly visible bruise. Bob and Ray were obviously at a loss for words. Gerard bent down and grabbed his sketchbook from off the floor, avoiding his friends' eyes as he did so.
"Okay, so everybody turn to page 342, read until the end of the section and then answer the questions on page 351 in your English journals." Mr. Perez called to the class, just as he finished writing down the same instructions on the board. He had a bit of an accent that Gerard could never quite place. Maybe Mexican or Puerto Rican?
Why am I sitting here wondering about my teacher's ethnicity? Gerard thought to himself as he pulled a large textbook from his bag and opened it on top of his sketchbook to page 342. He stared down at the words on the page, nothing made sense. He couldn't process what the letters came together to say. After staring at it for a good ten minutes he closed it and found a fresh page in his sketchbook where he began to draw.
He wasn't even sure what he was drawing until it had taken on more shape -- it was a young boy, probably no more than twelve. Naked, bleeding, and crying in the corner of a dark room. A room that at first glance appeared empty, but if he focused on the shading he had done, looked like demons were hiding at the edges, just outside of view, casting shadows over the boy. He stared at the sketch, slightly confused and disgusted by it.
What the hell does this mean? Gerard was completely lost in thought and didn't even realize when Mr. Perez came over to him.
"Gerard. You're supposed to be working. Your book should be open --" he began to scold him. But he paused, looking down at the drawing on Gerard's desk.
Shit... Gerard thought to himself as he quickly closed his sketchbook.
"Can I talk to you outside for a minute, Mr. Way?" Gerard nodded silently and stood up, following his teacher out into the hall.
I haven't even been in school for an hour... how have I managed to get in trouble three times? He slowly looked up at Perez, waiting for an onslaught that didn't come. After a moment of silence Mr. Perez laid his hand on Gerard's shoulder. He twitched and backed away slightly.
"You just lost your brother, correct?" Gerard nodded feebly.
"I think it would be good for you to go and talk to Mrs. McKenna, the counselor." he spoke with a kind, almost questioning tone of voice.
"I was just there. She couldn't help me...." Gerard tried to explain.
"I see.... What was that picture of?"
"I - I don't really know." Gerard answered honestly. He looked into his teacher's eyes. They looked worried but something else lingered in them too... repulsion. Mr. Perez blinked and looked away, but it was too late, Gerard had already seen what this man thought of him.
"I think I'd like to go home... I need to go home." Gerard spoke, his voice wavering slightly.
"Go get your things and go to the nurse's office."
Gerard nodded and quickly went back into the classroom, grabbing his things, muttering goodbyes to Ray and Bob, and heading right back out into the hall, straight for the nurse.
* * *
His father sat silently the entire car ride home. That suited Gerard fine, he had done enough talking for one day. He held his bag and sketchpad tight to him, only moving when the car had finally come to a stop in front of their tiny little brick house.
Gerard rushed inside and went straight to his room. He threw his backpack in the corner and grabbed a pencil from his messy desk, opening his sketchbook again. He stared at the words that he found on the picture he had just drawn in English. Words someone had graffitied his personal book with.
God, Mikey, I can't deal with this. I need you right now. Come back to me.... he thought as he read the words covering the broken boy.
"CRY FAG CRY
YOU'RE BROTHER'S DEAD
YOU'RE GONNA FRY
CRY FAG CRY"
♠ ♠ ♠
If you took the time to read this, please just tell me what you think! Take one minute to leave me a comment. Not too happy with this chapter, myself, but whatever. And I decided not to have every chapter use lyrics, so yeah...*mutters to self*~aep