Keep the Faith
The Grip Of A Savior
The melodies had made them sing, the beats and rhythms had made them dance, the lyrics had given them hope, the words had given them inspiration, the music had given them company, and their lives had given them a reason to fight…
Their yells had given them the energy, and their presence had given them support…
Their lives were dependent on each other, their relationship was incomparable to anything in the world, it seemed…
But suddenly, everything was falling apart… and they needed to keep their grips tighter, stronger… before it was too late.
Because ever since all the good things they had together had been forgotten… they started dying.
He tightened his clutch on his hair, as he watched his own pair of hazel eyes on the mirror. His pale face showed traces of fatigue and weariness, his throat felt sore, and he felt cold.
But he ignored all of these for he knew there were thousands of lives waiting for him outside the curtains that were surrounding him… in his heart he had this determination to make a change in these people’s hearts. He wanted to save them. He wanted them to stay, because they had given him hope, just as he had given them a reason to live… these kept him strong, these kept him breathing.
It wouldn’t be long before he had to reveal himself from behind the curtains and face another crowd of hyped people. To him it was an opportunity… a privilege to see those people looking up to him with ears willing to hear from him, with eyes willing to look at him, with voices waiting to sing with him, and with hearts waiting to spend a time with his band, and the only thing that mattered to him at the moment was seeing the presence of the people who believed in him, the people who stuck with him through thick and thin, and the people who understood them… they meant everything to him.
He turned his back to the mirror and started heading out but before his hands could even reach for the knob, his surroundings whirled around him; he looked around frantically as everything turned to pitch-black darkness.
Suddenly, he found himself standing on a big black wooden floor. A microphone on his right hand, its cord on the other, a multitude of people with eyes all focused on him, thousands of people with voices all calling for him.
He looked around in great amazement. But before he knew it, he saw them one by one… they were vanishing from his view. Some were stepping backward out of sight, others were just fading away.
Frightened, he didn’t know what to do.
Was he to stretch his arms to reach for them? He didn’t know.
People in front of him were vanishing, one after the other more rapidly by the minute, and frustration started to consume him.
He shifted his left hand to the microphone stand and rested the microphone on it, then he stretched his right arm with great effort to reach anyone… he didn’t want them to disappear, though he didn’t know what was happening, he cried out for them to hold on onto him.
But no one seemed to be listening… no one seemed to want to listen to him anymore. They just stared at him with blank eyes until they vanished out of sight. He was losing the hope of returning the lost ones back, and the hope of stopping the rest of the people from going, but he kept his arm longing for their touch anyway, he tried reaching further, but no one would reach out back to him.
And the longer he kept his arm stretched, the faster he succumbed to the paranoia and the weariness of his body. His surroundings began to reel around him again, and his head started to burst in extreme pain. His body was cold and he needed a touch, but no one would give it to him, he was feeling weaker and weaker, but he didn’t drop his arm, his chest felt tight, and his breathing became shallow. Not long after, his muscles felt rigid, his knees collapsed, and he fell forward.
He dropped his right arm but he kept it extended, until finally, a girl struggled to get to him and grabbed his hand.
“Hold on…” the girl whispered, and he felt her grip tighten on his hand.
He tried with great effort to get up as he whispered back, “Don’t let go… please don’t.”
“I won’t.”
But he could feel her losing it, as... what felt like a great force... tried pulling her away.
“Please…. please… no, don’t.” he asked her to stay.
“I’m trying.”
He threw his other arm to hold her but it was too late. The girl let go of her grasp, and she fell on her back. She was being pulled away from him slowly.
“No. Please!”
She was looking at him determinedly but as his hazel eyes looked deeper into her terrified ones, darkness began enveloping him. He struggled for breath but he felt too weak, he couldn’t hold on any longer.
Until the last second he tried to fight, but even heroes needed to be saved…
The girl held on strongly until the force died away, and with great effort, as tears rolled down her cheeks, she ran to him.
“Gerard! No, wake up… I lost grip, I came back… I’m staying… don’t tell me it’s too late…”
But as she pressed her fingers on his wrist, with tears streaming fast down her anxious face… she felt no pulse.
Their yells had given them the energy, and their presence had given them support…
Their lives were dependent on each other, their relationship was incomparable to anything in the world, it seemed…
But suddenly, everything was falling apart… and they needed to keep their grips tighter, stronger… before it was too late.
Because ever since all the good things they had together had been forgotten… they started dying.
He tightened his clutch on his hair, as he watched his own pair of hazel eyes on the mirror. His pale face showed traces of fatigue and weariness, his throat felt sore, and he felt cold.
But he ignored all of these for he knew there were thousands of lives waiting for him outside the curtains that were surrounding him… in his heart he had this determination to make a change in these people’s hearts. He wanted to save them. He wanted them to stay, because they had given him hope, just as he had given them a reason to live… these kept him strong, these kept him breathing.
It wouldn’t be long before he had to reveal himself from behind the curtains and face another crowd of hyped people. To him it was an opportunity… a privilege to see those people looking up to him with ears willing to hear from him, with eyes willing to look at him, with voices waiting to sing with him, and with hearts waiting to spend a time with his band, and the only thing that mattered to him at the moment was seeing the presence of the people who believed in him, the people who stuck with him through thick and thin, and the people who understood them… they meant everything to him.
He turned his back to the mirror and started heading out but before his hands could even reach for the knob, his surroundings whirled around him; he looked around frantically as everything turned to pitch-black darkness.
Suddenly, he found himself standing on a big black wooden floor. A microphone on his right hand, its cord on the other, a multitude of people with eyes all focused on him, thousands of people with voices all calling for him.
He looked around in great amazement. But before he knew it, he saw them one by one… they were vanishing from his view. Some were stepping backward out of sight, others were just fading away.
Frightened, he didn’t know what to do.
Was he to stretch his arms to reach for them? He didn’t know.
People in front of him were vanishing, one after the other more rapidly by the minute, and frustration started to consume him.
He shifted his left hand to the microphone stand and rested the microphone on it, then he stretched his right arm with great effort to reach anyone… he didn’t want them to disappear, though he didn’t know what was happening, he cried out for them to hold on onto him.
But no one seemed to be listening… no one seemed to want to listen to him anymore. They just stared at him with blank eyes until they vanished out of sight. He was losing the hope of returning the lost ones back, and the hope of stopping the rest of the people from going, but he kept his arm longing for their touch anyway, he tried reaching further, but no one would reach out back to him.
And the longer he kept his arm stretched, the faster he succumbed to the paranoia and the weariness of his body. His surroundings began to reel around him again, and his head started to burst in extreme pain. His body was cold and he needed a touch, but no one would give it to him, he was feeling weaker and weaker, but he didn’t drop his arm, his chest felt tight, and his breathing became shallow. Not long after, his muscles felt rigid, his knees collapsed, and he fell forward.
He dropped his right arm but he kept it extended, until finally, a girl struggled to get to him and grabbed his hand.
“Hold on…” the girl whispered, and he felt her grip tighten on his hand.
He tried with great effort to get up as he whispered back, “Don’t let go… please don’t.”
“I won’t.”
But he could feel her losing it, as... what felt like a great force... tried pulling her away.
“Please…. please… no, don’t.” he asked her to stay.
“I’m trying.”
He threw his other arm to hold her but it was too late. The girl let go of her grasp, and she fell on her back. She was being pulled away from him slowly.
“No. Please!”
She was looking at him determinedly but as his hazel eyes looked deeper into her terrified ones, darkness began enveloping him. He struggled for breath but he felt too weak, he couldn’t hold on any longer.
Until the last second he tried to fight, but even heroes needed to be saved…
The girl held on strongly until the force died away, and with great effort, as tears rolled down her cheeks, she ran to him.
“Gerard! No, wake up… I lost grip, I came back… I’m staying… don’t tell me it’s too late…”
But as she pressed her fingers on his wrist, with tears streaming fast down her anxious face… she felt no pulse.