Revive
Earthquake
The rumbling, before so faint, screams like the waves of an ocean. Ripping at my eardrums until I'm positive that they've started to bleed. The building sways beneath our feet, tipping unsteadily back and forth. It moans on its foundation, groaning in protest against the force that is trying to uproot us. But above all things I can hear Frank's whimpers of terror as he clutches my arm with all of his strength.
"Gerard? Gerard, what the fuck is happening?" he cries. His voice is nearly drowned out by the sounds of the world falling apart around us, but it's his hysterics that my ears grasp onto the tightest.
"Gerard!" he shouts when I don't answer. His other hand gropes around in the darkness, clutching onto my chest.
"I'm here," I whisper, but my brain is molding around all the shakes and noises from the building. All I can think is: It's going to collapse. The building is fucking falling apart on us, and we're inside. We need to get out.
I realize that I can no longer hear Frank. He makes not a single sound, I cannot hear his breaths.
"Frank? Frank, we need to get out of here. Can you hear me? Just hold on to me, I think the building is going to collapse," I say in the calmest voice I can manage. It still trembles like the crystal chandelier above us.
There's silence for a second, and then his terrified squeaks. "I don't think I can move, Gerard," he whispers.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" I cry. I start to back away, the building is starting to shake.
"I...I can't..."
"Move!"
There is a sudden silence, and my scream echoes eerily throughout the room. Above us, the chandelier sways back and forth, back and forth. I can just catch its movement by the glitter the moonlight throws on the carpet as it catches each individual crystal. The tinkling chime of glass hitting glass flows smoothly through my ears.
And then the world explodes. I'm thrown to the floor as chaos erupts around us. The roar of the earthquake is so loud that I cover my ears, lying on my side on the floor. Through the shriek of the deck window shattering under pressure, I can hear Frank screaming my name. I can't tell where he is, only that I've been thrown farther away from him than he can handle.
It feels like the floor is literally ripping apart beneath me. Everything shakes, as if somebody just picked up the hotel and gave it a good shake.
"Gee!" Frank screams, and I feel his hand on my leg. He gets a good grip on my jeans and then goes silent except for a few whimpers.
I pull myself up into sitting position, and somewhere to my right I hear the television fly off it's stand. The screen splinters to pieces just inches from where my head had been two seconds ago.
"We have to get out of here, Frank, do you understand me?"
He murmurs a, "Yes," and then begins to crawl up my leg. I hold out my hand, hoping he'll somehow be able to find it in the darkness.
I cry out in pain as I put my hand down on a sliver of glass. It embeds itself deep in my palm, warm blood gushing down my hand.
"Are you okay?" Frank whispers. His voice is almost as shaky as the walls that are threatening to fall in on us.
I slowly stand, groaning in agony as I grip the shard of glass and ease it out of my palm. The result is a splurt of blood that I ignore.
Suddenly, the shaking stops. It's almost instantaneous. The swaying continues for a few more long seconds, and then everything is calm.
"You okay?" I ask. I can just barely make out the streams of tears carved into his round cheeks.
"S-something hit my ankle. I think it's...stuck."
"Can you walk?"
"I can t-try."
I throw my arm around his shoulder, supporting most of his weight. He whimpers as I begin to walk, but makes no protests. When I look over at him, his eyes are screwed shut, pain painting his features. I make the mistake of glancing down, and a wave of nausea floods my stomach and throat. A sizable wedge of glass from the deck window disappears behind the bone in his ankle, wedged in the thin threads of muscle. Crimson dribbles down over his shoe laces, staining them a rusty brown.
"I'm sure there's gonna be people out there to help us, okay? We just need to get out of this room, and someone will help us out of the hotel," I tell him in what I hope is a reassuring voice.
"Do...do you think Mikey and Ray and Bob are alright?"
Pictures of my fragile-skeleton brother, our curly-haired guitarist, and serious-faced Bob flood my mind, overpowering my current worries. "Yeah, of course. They're probably on their way over here right now. Or going down to get help. I'm sure they're fine."
I just wish I was half as convinced as my voice portrayed.
Behind us, my laptop beeps to tell me it's finished charging. Cold air breezes through the shattered deck window, stirring the hairs on my arms and neck.
We're jolted to the side as the room begins to vibrate again, this time with the intent of losing us. To the angry world. To the pitch-black room. I have a feeling that the world is trying to kill us...and it's furious that it's failing.
"Gerard..." Frank moans, his voice drenched in fear and pain.
"An aftershock," I whisper, making sure to keep him close by my side. I step in a patch of glass from the television screen, and pain shoots through my left leg. "Shit!"
"What?"
"Nothing. I stepped on something. Just stay close to me, alright?"
There's an ear-splitting ripping sound, as if someone is tearing up the carpet. A rainfall of white chalk and dust powders down on our heads, coating my tongue and throat in bitter paste. Chunks of plaster and stucco from the ceiling rain down as something cuts through it. The clinging of crystal rain-drops from the chandelier is louder than anything.
Frank coughs, doubling over as his lungs are filled with toxic powder. The bitter taste of anxiety and fear combines with plaster to form a flavor powerful enough to make me gag. The air around us suddenly feels stale. The world is upside-down.
The ripping gets louder, as if cords are snapping above my head. The ceiling pops and growls, and then there's a forced gust of air as the chandelier free-falls from its hold on the ceiling. I'm tossed away from it, landing on my back in front of the bed.
The most pitiful, blood-curdling screech rings out in my ear, deafening me to everything for a few haunting moments. Like Frank's vocal cords are literally being ripped from his throat. An explosion of crystal flies at me like spikes, piercing my skin and shredding my bare chest. I ignore the pain; my ears focus on only one thing. I'm desperately searching for Frank's heavy breathing, but it's been drowned among the rip-roaring cries of the earth tearing itself apart.
"Frank?" I call out as the world ceases its violent shaking again.
The deadest silence reaches my ears.
"Goddammit, Frank, you better fucking answer me right now!"
A gust of wind through the remains of the window freezes the blood that trickles down my chest.
There's one last groan from the hotel, one that chills my heart. The giant dusty hotel mirror falls forward from the wall, shattering in sparkling fire against my skull.
"Gerard? Gerard, what the fuck is happening?" he cries. His voice is nearly drowned out by the sounds of the world falling apart around us, but it's his hysterics that my ears grasp onto the tightest.
"Gerard!" he shouts when I don't answer. His other hand gropes around in the darkness, clutching onto my chest.
"I'm here," I whisper, but my brain is molding around all the shakes and noises from the building. All I can think is: It's going to collapse. The building is fucking falling apart on us, and we're inside. We need to get out.
I realize that I can no longer hear Frank. He makes not a single sound, I cannot hear his breaths.
"Frank? Frank, we need to get out of here. Can you hear me? Just hold on to me, I think the building is going to collapse," I say in the calmest voice I can manage. It still trembles like the crystal chandelier above us.
There's silence for a second, and then his terrified squeaks. "I don't think I can move, Gerard," he whispers.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" I cry. I start to back away, the building is starting to shake.
"I...I can't..."
"Move!"
There is a sudden silence, and my scream echoes eerily throughout the room. Above us, the chandelier sways back and forth, back and forth. I can just catch its movement by the glitter the moonlight throws on the carpet as it catches each individual crystal. The tinkling chime of glass hitting glass flows smoothly through my ears.
And then the world explodes. I'm thrown to the floor as chaos erupts around us. The roar of the earthquake is so loud that I cover my ears, lying on my side on the floor. Through the shriek of the deck window shattering under pressure, I can hear Frank screaming my name. I can't tell where he is, only that I've been thrown farther away from him than he can handle.
It feels like the floor is literally ripping apart beneath me. Everything shakes, as if somebody just picked up the hotel and gave it a good shake.
"Gee!" Frank screams, and I feel his hand on my leg. He gets a good grip on my jeans and then goes silent except for a few whimpers.
I pull myself up into sitting position, and somewhere to my right I hear the television fly off it's stand. The screen splinters to pieces just inches from where my head had been two seconds ago.
"We have to get out of here, Frank, do you understand me?"
He murmurs a, "Yes," and then begins to crawl up my leg. I hold out my hand, hoping he'll somehow be able to find it in the darkness.
I cry out in pain as I put my hand down on a sliver of glass. It embeds itself deep in my palm, warm blood gushing down my hand.
"Are you okay?" Frank whispers. His voice is almost as shaky as the walls that are threatening to fall in on us.
I slowly stand, groaning in agony as I grip the shard of glass and ease it out of my palm. The result is a splurt of blood that I ignore.
Suddenly, the shaking stops. It's almost instantaneous. The swaying continues for a few more long seconds, and then everything is calm.
"You okay?" I ask. I can just barely make out the streams of tears carved into his round cheeks.
"S-something hit my ankle. I think it's...stuck."
"Can you walk?"
"I can t-try."
I throw my arm around his shoulder, supporting most of his weight. He whimpers as I begin to walk, but makes no protests. When I look over at him, his eyes are screwed shut, pain painting his features. I make the mistake of glancing down, and a wave of nausea floods my stomach and throat. A sizable wedge of glass from the deck window disappears behind the bone in his ankle, wedged in the thin threads of muscle. Crimson dribbles down over his shoe laces, staining them a rusty brown.
"I'm sure there's gonna be people out there to help us, okay? We just need to get out of this room, and someone will help us out of the hotel," I tell him in what I hope is a reassuring voice.
"Do...do you think Mikey and Ray and Bob are alright?"
Pictures of my fragile-skeleton brother, our curly-haired guitarist, and serious-faced Bob flood my mind, overpowering my current worries. "Yeah, of course. They're probably on their way over here right now. Or going down to get help. I'm sure they're fine."
I just wish I was half as convinced as my voice portrayed.
Behind us, my laptop beeps to tell me it's finished charging. Cold air breezes through the shattered deck window, stirring the hairs on my arms and neck.
We're jolted to the side as the room begins to vibrate again, this time with the intent of losing us. To the angry world. To the pitch-black room. I have a feeling that the world is trying to kill us...and it's furious that it's failing.
"Gerard..." Frank moans, his voice drenched in fear and pain.
"An aftershock," I whisper, making sure to keep him close by my side. I step in a patch of glass from the television screen, and pain shoots through my left leg. "Shit!"
"What?"
"Nothing. I stepped on something. Just stay close to me, alright?"
There's an ear-splitting ripping sound, as if someone is tearing up the carpet. A rainfall of white chalk and dust powders down on our heads, coating my tongue and throat in bitter paste. Chunks of plaster and stucco from the ceiling rain down as something cuts through it. The clinging of crystal rain-drops from the chandelier is louder than anything.
Frank coughs, doubling over as his lungs are filled with toxic powder. The bitter taste of anxiety and fear combines with plaster to form a flavor powerful enough to make me gag. The air around us suddenly feels stale. The world is upside-down.
The ripping gets louder, as if cords are snapping above my head. The ceiling pops and growls, and then there's a forced gust of air as the chandelier free-falls from its hold on the ceiling. I'm tossed away from it, landing on my back in front of the bed.
The most pitiful, blood-curdling screech rings out in my ear, deafening me to everything for a few haunting moments. Like Frank's vocal cords are literally being ripped from his throat. An explosion of crystal flies at me like spikes, piercing my skin and shredding my bare chest. I ignore the pain; my ears focus on only one thing. I'm desperately searching for Frank's heavy breathing, but it's been drowned among the rip-roaring cries of the earth tearing itself apart.
"Frank?" I call out as the world ceases its violent shaking again.
The deadest silence reaches my ears.
"Goddammit, Frank, you better fucking answer me right now!"
A gust of wind through the remains of the window freezes the blood that trickles down my chest.
There's one last groan from the hotel, one that chills my heart. The giant dusty hotel mirror falls forward from the wall, shattering in sparkling fire against my skull.