In The Morning And Amazing
This Is The Best Day Ever
*Gerard POV*
With my eyes open and lifted upwards I can see the sky, the clouds being pushed along by some invisible hand. They can move with such speed, drift along at a desirable pace or even stay still. They change colours. Gray and indecisive. To rain or not to rain? That is the question. They can be black or stormy pissing down relentlessly. They can be white, pure and calm. Everyone is a cloud, the sky is life. Different weather patterns in the sky for different moods and different people. I had only one mood. I am a cloudless night. I’m not here. No-one sees me because I don’t exist. Or what they do see is darkness.
“What the fuck am I doing here?” I pulled myself out of the gutter and examined the damage. My t-shirt was vomit coated and pants were wet around the crotch. Three guesses to what I’d done to achieve that. I’d need to go home tonight. Fan-fucking-tastic. My attempts to remember the night were appalling. What had I done? Gin, gin and more gin I remembered as the memories came flooding back. I was dancing, drinking, kissing and vomiting. Making the most of my newly turned 18 body and the girls, drugs and alcohol it can give me. They seem to like the long greasy black hair, pale face, hazel eyes and skinny body. I drive them wild.
I hate going home. I hate seeing my parents with their well toned bodies and their dials tuned on happiness. I despise the food they serve. On my hate list, food comes absolutely first. That’s probably the main reason I hate home. Seeing them smile and pretend that they care about a cloudless sky. They are the clouds that are pure. Their skies crossed over way back when they were my age. They can’t seem to have a separate mood. In the lining of my mother’s uterus I was there when it happened. It’s probably why I am so fucked up now. Lucky Mikey didn’t have to experience the beginning of their love, or rather, the force upon it. Too bad religion isn’t a contraceptive. I’m pretty certain we’d have a lot less kids like me if it was.
I’d see Mikey though. The thought made me smile. I could hardly remember what he looked like. When he turned 15 he changed. I suppose we all do then. His cloud grew a fringe, began to wear really tight pants and hang out with the ‘Bert’ cloud. A few weeks ago I beat up this kid called Jack for calling him ‘Ernie’. Mikey didn’t know I did it of course, he’d tell me I was babying him and that he could deal with his own problems. But there is no way that anyone gives my brother shit.
He was always the smarter one. Mikey was always kinder, cuter and better than me and I resented that. But I need to see him. It’s been too long and I finally understand that maybe Mikey is the stars in my sky. I will be grateful for this day, because when it is over, the night will come and I will see my Mikey.
With my eyes open and lifted upwards I can see the sky, the clouds being pushed along by some invisible hand. They can move with such speed, drift along at a desirable pace or even stay still. They change colours. Gray and indecisive. To rain or not to rain? That is the question. They can be black or stormy pissing down relentlessly. They can be white, pure and calm. Everyone is a cloud, the sky is life. Different weather patterns in the sky for different moods and different people. I had only one mood. I am a cloudless night. I’m not here. No-one sees me because I don’t exist. Or what they do see is darkness.
“What the fuck am I doing here?” I pulled myself out of the gutter and examined the damage. My t-shirt was vomit coated and pants were wet around the crotch. Three guesses to what I’d done to achieve that. I’d need to go home tonight. Fan-fucking-tastic. My attempts to remember the night were appalling. What had I done? Gin, gin and more gin I remembered as the memories came flooding back. I was dancing, drinking, kissing and vomiting. Making the most of my newly turned 18 body and the girls, drugs and alcohol it can give me. They seem to like the long greasy black hair, pale face, hazel eyes and skinny body. I drive them wild.
I hate going home. I hate seeing my parents with their well toned bodies and their dials tuned on happiness. I despise the food they serve. On my hate list, food comes absolutely first. That’s probably the main reason I hate home. Seeing them smile and pretend that they care about a cloudless sky. They are the clouds that are pure. Their skies crossed over way back when they were my age. They can’t seem to have a separate mood. In the lining of my mother’s uterus I was there when it happened. It’s probably why I am so fucked up now. Lucky Mikey didn’t have to experience the beginning of their love, or rather, the force upon it. Too bad religion isn’t a contraceptive. I’m pretty certain we’d have a lot less kids like me if it was.
I’d see Mikey though. The thought made me smile. I could hardly remember what he looked like. When he turned 15 he changed. I suppose we all do then. His cloud grew a fringe, began to wear really tight pants and hang out with the ‘Bert’ cloud. A few weeks ago I beat up this kid called Jack for calling him ‘Ernie’. Mikey didn’t know I did it of course, he’d tell me I was babying him and that he could deal with his own problems. But there is no way that anyone gives my brother shit.
He was always the smarter one. Mikey was always kinder, cuter and better than me and I resented that. But I need to see him. It’s been too long and I finally understand that maybe Mikey is the stars in my sky. I will be grateful for this day, because when it is over, the night will come and I will see my Mikey.
♠ ♠ ♠
gerard is introduced. Yay. How am I doing?