Ways to Love Your Brother

"What is it," Mom asked, looking at me. I gave a shrug, and reached over my brother, and took the folded piece of paper from her. Unfolding it, quickly read Gerard's ruined lettering.

I hope you blame yourself over this,
You mangled, twisted, piece of shit.
And as I rot inside my grave,
You'll know I'll hate you in many ways.

A tear leaked out of my eye as I read Gerard's last thought. I wanted to take back everything I ever did, to take back everything I ever said. I wanted to take back ever admitting that I was in love with Gerard, or that I was gay.

If only I could take everything back, things would be normal, things would be the way it should be.

I should be sitting on a couch next to my brother or my friends, eating chips, and arguing over band names, and talking about getting jobs to actually get instruments to play with.

My mom must have seen my tear for she instantly walked around Gerard's hospital bed, and took the note out of my hand.

"No," I cried, trying to keep it away from her, but she was already reading it before I could react.

"What is the meaning of this," she asked, "Why would your brother write this for you?"

"I-"

"Don't you dare tell me you don't know, Michale James Way."

"Mom....," more tears spilled out. I wanted to tell her so that when Gerard woke up... if he woke up, she would forbid me to be anywhere near Gerard, and things would be semi normal. "I.... I really don't want to say anything. At least not while I'm still in shock."

"But why would he write this?"

"Because he's pissed at me! Okay," I was raising my voice, and at my mother. What was wrong with me?

"Mikey. I don't-"

"Do you see me," I said, yelling, "I'm the reason why he's in that bed. It's my fault he tried to commit suicide. It's all me! Me and my lack of faith to my loved ones."

"Mikey," my mom looked at me, "What did you do?"

"I can't tell you mom.... Not without Gerard," I looked down, suddenly ashamed of who I am.

"Mikey....," she looked at me longingly, trying to read my expression, my thoughts. I sat down in the chair, and slouched. I had to lie my way out of this.... I had to think of something to tell her.

"Mikey.... Please tell me, you don't always have to rely on Gerard to help you out," mom said, a now stern look on her face.

"I....," come on! Think of something! "We were at school, and Gerard, Ray, Frank, and Matt were standing at the display case.

"Gerard was showing off his art project... the one that he spent like two months on.... Well, I came up and looked at it with the guys, when.... I... spotted a mistake.

"I pointed it out, and Gerard flipped.... The gradually, I... found more. I showed them to min, and he panicked. Eventually, we all started to tease him, saying things like, 'Maybe Picasso needs glasses, that way he'll hand in better work.' I know it was mean, but we were only joking.

"Eventually, all of our joking got to him, and he walked off, saying that after two months of painting, he had gotten nowhere, and that maybe he should just quit while he was ahead.

"That was the last time I saw him. We all went though the day, and I think I was the only one to notice his disappearance. I went to the office to see if he went home early, and they told me he went home sick.

"I went home, and found him.... And.... And-"

"Why would you do something like that," mom looked at me, "You know how much that project meant to him. God dammit Mikey," my mom placed her hand to her mouth in stress, and gave a shuddered gasp.

"I'm sorry.... I didn't mean it. Gerard jokes like that all of the time.... We.... We were only joking," I whipped some of m tears, "We would never mean something like that," once again, I collapsed into tears, this time to try and convince her that I was telling her that my story was true.

"Mikey....," mom came over, and wrapped me into a hug, "This isn't your fault. I know you didn't mean it. And maybe, Gerard knew it, maybe not. And unfortunately, what's done, is done," she hugged me tighter.

"I'm so sorry mom," I said. Pulling away from her reluctantly, I looked up, to see her crying. Standing up, I hugged her again only this time it was to comfort her.

"Mrs. Way," came a voice from the door.

"Yes," mom asked, pulling away from me, and turning to a young blond nurse.

"Your husband is here," she left, allowing my father to come in.

"Donald," mom cried, walking over to him.

"Donna," my father answered, hugging her. I sat down next to Gerard, and stared at him demanding him to wake up, and be okay. Mean while, my mom was talking softly in the background, telling dad my story, and what the doctor said.

Tears continued to rain down my face, as I sat there, holding Gerard's limp hand, waiting for him to hold me hand back.

"Are you okay," dad asked, placing his hand on my shoulder. Without looking at him, I nodded.

"You must be kicking yourself really hard now aren't you," again, without looking at him, I nodded. More tears spilled out of my eyes, faster now... on the verge of going into hyperventilating sobs. Dad pulled up a chair, and sat next to me.

"Are you going to give me a speech," I asked, still not looking away from Gerard.

"No," he said, "You didn't mean it, and I think your understanding the consequences of your actions. We love you Mikey, and we understand what you're going through. You and your brother are very close," hearing that only made me cry more.

"I don't want him to die," I whispered.

"None of us want Gerard to die," dad said.

"I don't want to leave him," I said, "I want to stay here until he wakes up."

"But honey," mom said, "You have school tomorrow."

"It's Friday mom," I said distantly, "I don't care if I miss it."

"Well, I guess I could tell the school to get your homework....," mom answered, trailing off.

"Thank you," was all I said. Mom came over, and placed a kiss on my cheek.

"We'll see you tomorrow," she said. My parents exchanged glances, and eventually left.