End of Everything
Drink...
Frank's POV:
"Gee?!" I woke up from yet another nap. He wasn't awake, so I tucked the sheets in by him and silently walked out of the door.
"Quinn... QUINN!!!" I heard someone stumble to the door and open it.
"DUDE, you're fucking wasted!"
There Quinn stood with a beer bottle in hand and mulitple ones on the ground.
"Wellll... ya can come in an drink wit meee..." he slurred. This was worse than Gerard's drunked years.
"Come on, " I said and supported Quinn to the bathroom. I knew what was going to follow.
He sat on the toilet and drank more. I grabbed his bottle.
"NO MORE. Why were you drinking?"
He shrugged, a little and said, "To get drunk!"
Oh yes, Quinn, excellent answer. But we'll get it out of him later.
When Quinn stopped holding up, I pulled him off of his "seat" and rubbed his back as he puked.
Bert's POV:
DAMN! That woman is too insane!
So she brings me into her life, and pushes me out. Like I'm old and worn out.
Like an old toy.
Make my heart and then BREAK IT.
I watched her run out of the room, stumbling on her way. I almost laughed.
And then she got closer to the door. Her foot caught on the carpet, and she fell to the floor. It was like slow-motion. Horrible. And the rusty, long nail that Quinn, Jeph and I used to write things on the wall with had somehow gotten into the pathway of Jamia's fall.
"JAMIA!" I yelled.
I saw the nail dive into her chest, leaving a scar emotionally in my heart for life. And she screamed, but the yell quieted down.
I could've called the hospital sooner. I could've gotten up and helped her. But I stood there, watching the blood soak into the carpet, and I felt faint. It wasn't the blood, of course.
"Oh shit, oh shit, ohshit, ohshit, ohshit! FUCK!"
I ran into the kitchen when I snapped back to reality. 911? 'Kay, anything to bring her back.
"911, what's your emergency?"
a feminine voice came onto the phone. It bothered me.
"Um, uhh, my friend came over and there is a damn rusty nail stuck in her chest."
"What is your phone number?" she asked.
"###-####" I replied. (haha, fake number)
"Ambulences are coming."
"'Kay, thanks."
I hopped into the front hall and knelt before Jamia, tucking my hair behind my ear.
"Jamia, listen. JAMIA, PLEASE BE ALIVE."
I was so pissed at her, but I loved her. And that's all that mattered right then.
"AGH! WHERE ARE THOSE FUCKIN' AMBULENCES!?!?!"
"Gee?!" I woke up from yet another nap. He wasn't awake, so I tucked the sheets in by him and silently walked out of the door.
"Quinn... QUINN!!!" I heard someone stumble to the door and open it.
"DUDE, you're fucking wasted!"
There Quinn stood with a beer bottle in hand and mulitple ones on the ground.
"Wellll... ya can come in an drink wit meee..." he slurred. This was worse than Gerard's drunked years.
"Come on, " I said and supported Quinn to the bathroom. I knew what was going to follow.
He sat on the toilet and drank more. I grabbed his bottle.
"NO MORE. Why were you drinking?"
He shrugged, a little and said, "To get drunk!"
Oh yes, Quinn, excellent answer. But we'll get it out of him later.
When Quinn stopped holding up, I pulled him off of his "seat" and rubbed his back as he puked.
Bert's POV:
DAMN! That woman is too insane!
So she brings me into her life, and pushes me out. Like I'm old and worn out.
Like an old toy.
Make my heart and then BREAK IT.
I watched her run out of the room, stumbling on her way. I almost laughed.
And then she got closer to the door. Her foot caught on the carpet, and she fell to the floor. It was like slow-motion. Horrible. And the rusty, long nail that Quinn, Jeph and I used to write things on the wall with had somehow gotten into the pathway of Jamia's fall.
"JAMIA!" I yelled.
I saw the nail dive into her chest, leaving a scar emotionally in my heart for life. And she screamed, but the yell quieted down.
I could've called the hospital sooner. I could've gotten up and helped her. But I stood there, watching the blood soak into the carpet, and I felt faint. It wasn't the blood, of course.
"Oh shit, oh shit, ohshit, ohshit, ohshit! FUCK!"
I ran into the kitchen when I snapped back to reality. 911? 'Kay, anything to bring her back.
"911, what's your emergency?"
a feminine voice came onto the phone. It bothered me.
"Um, uhh, my friend came over and there is a damn rusty nail stuck in her chest."
"What is your phone number?" she asked.
"###-####" I replied. (haha, fake number)
"Ambulences are coming."
"'Kay, thanks."
I hopped into the front hall and knelt before Jamia, tucking my hair behind my ear.
"Jamia, listen. JAMIA, PLEASE BE ALIVE."
I was so pissed at her, but I loved her. And that's all that mattered right then.
"AGH! WHERE ARE THOSE FUCKIN' AMBULENCES!?!?!"