A Shot in the Dark
Two.
Mikey’s Point of View
Holy Hell, Michael James Way, what the fuck are you thinking? You’ve just met this girl after smashing into the back of her car because you weren’t paying attention while driving. What if she’s a creeper? What if her dad comes after her? Snap out of it. You’re not crazy, she’s a nice, pretty young lady, and she’s sitting in the passenger seat of your car. Talk to her, dumbass. I snapped out of my trance and focused my eyes on the road; I don’t think my car would appreciate another beating today.
“So, tell me more about your band, Mikey,” Brindley stopped staring out the window long enough to focus her attention on me.
“Well, technically, it’s my brother’s band,” I looked over at her with oan verly exaggerated puppy dog look on my face. “He started it, I mean. He just recently asked me to join him and his friends Ray and Frank. Gerard, my brother, he sings. Ray and Frank both play guitar.”
“So that means you play the bass,” she smiled at me.
“What if I told you I played the drums?”
“Well, then you would move down about fifty spots in my book of cool,” she laughed.
“In that case, I play the bass. You were right. Did I just gain my fifty spots back?”
“Yes, you can move back up to the number one spot, Mr. Mikey,” she patted my shoulder, it’s as if she’s trying to comfort me for the emotional stress her “book” was causing.
“Let’s make a deal,” I smiled at her. “You call me Mikey, instead of this Mr. Mikey nonsense, and I’ll let you crash at my place until your car is fixed. How does that sound?”
“I think that sounds fair, but, what if I don’t want to leave?” she chuckled.
“What reason could you possibly have for wanting to stay with me, my brother, and our friends any longer than necessary? We’re just a bunch of dumb boys hyped up on testosterone.” It was only the truth. I couldn’t lie to her, not this girl, there’s something too special about her to even think of doing that.
“Oh, I can think of plenty of reasons,” she was smiling.
The truth was written all over her face, she was terrible at hiding it. Her smile was large and inconspicuous, much like a child who has spotted the perfect puppy. Like the perfect puppy wagging its tail, Brindley was happy, and, as far as I could tell I was the source of her happiness. Judging from the severity of the bruises and gashes that encompassed her arms it had been a long time since she had truly smiled about anything. Seeing her giggling from the passenger seat was enough for me to make a conscious decision that I would never let her leave.
**
“Michael James Way. What the fuck did you wake up and smoke this morning? Because I want whatever the hell it is that makes you think you can just rear end the car of a random girl and invite her to live with us! Honestly, sometimes I wonder how you graduated high school. This is like the fork in the toaster incident, just stupider! This is stupid, Mikey, that’s all this is is stupid!” Gerard was screaming at me in the parking lot of the restaurant. To say he was upset would be a total understatement. To be honest, he was furious. Actually, he was past the point of furious; I’m not even sure what you’d call this level of anger.
“I’m sorry, okay, I’m sorry. If you could have seen her arms, you would understand. She ran away from home, Gerard. Her dad..he..he hurt her. Badly. She just wants a fresh start. We can give that to her, we can keep her safe, I can keep her safe,” I said to him. I kept my eyes focused on the ground so I could keep myself from crying. It was too late, I could feel the tears begin to fall from my eyes and slide down my cheeks towards the cold pavement.
I looked up at Gerard and slowly placed my head in my hands to hide the shameful truth. I was crying over a girl I had met merely hours ago.
What are you doing?! Now he knows her secret, and she probably didn’t even want you to know. Way to fucking go kid, way to go. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. My mind was raging in a whirlpool of anger and confusion. I was angry at Gerard for yelling at me over something he would never understand, but I just couldn’t pinpoint why I cared so much. When Gerard asked me to be in his band I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t get wrapped up in a relationship that I didn’t have time for. You just want to make sure she’s okay, and keep her out of harm’s way, like a best friend. That’s all, Mikey, cheer up kid, it’ll be okay.
Gerard took a few steps and I could feel his warm hands rubbing my back like he used to do when I was younger.
It started when I was 14, right after Emma, my best friend, committed suicide. Emma had been my best friend for as long as I could remember, we were always playing or doing homework together. As we got older, we started to spend every minute we could together, we walked to school together, scheduled every class together, and even went shopping together. As the cliché says, we were glued at the hips, completely and totally inseparable. Emma lived exactly three houses down the street from me. She was the sister I never had that just so happened to claim her stake in a different house, not that she was there much. When she was 7, her parents stopped coming home. They would work long hours and end up spending the night in a hotel in the city, or so we thought. When Emma was 13 the truth was exposed for the gaping black hole that it was. Her parents had decided to see other people, but remain married to keep Emma out of harm’s way. They were never working late; they were just fucking random people every night of the week. What a great thing to find out when you’re just a little girl, right? After that, Emma’s parents moved to the west coast to better suit their whore like lifestyle. Emma spent the majority of her time in my room when her parents started “working late”, she enjoyed having someone around to talk to and laugh with. Most nights, she’d stay the night instead of returning home to the cold, lifeless house she was supposed to call her home. After the split, Emma was taken in as part of the family and given the spare bedroom downstairs. A few months after her fourteenth birthday, Emma hung herself from the laundry line. I was the one that found her, that found my best friend, my sister, hanging cold and lifeless in my basement. She had never even led us to believe she was depressed; she never gave a single warning sign. That’s when I lost it, I spent every minute of every day alone in my room, too upset with myself for not stopping Emma from taking her own life. I just couldn’t deal with the guilt. That lasted for a few months, and eventually I was able to get up and move on with life as best as I could, until I went to sleep. Every night at exactly 2:52 a.m. I would wake up from a hideous nightmare replaying a scene of Emma screaming and crying for help, and then just drifting away. And every night at 2:52 a.m. I’d wake up and Gerard would be lying in the bed next to me, his warm hands rubbing my back, his soft voice comforting my pain.
Before I knew it my face was buried in my brother’s chest, I was gripping his shirt with fists of death, and I was sobbing.
“She looks like Emma,” Gerard said. “That’s why you’re so worked up about this. You want to keep this Emma away from harm, protect her from the evils of the world. You barely know her, but you care about her.You want to keep her safe, something you couldn't provide for Emma, you found someone who needs your safety and protection, and you jumped at the oppurtunity.” His hand continued to move in an up and down motion along my spine.
“Her name is Brindley!” I assured him. “Not Emma!”
“I know, Mikey, I know. But she reminds you of Emma. You want her to be Emma, you want her to be your best friend. That’s why you invited her into your life so quickly, or should I say our house.”
“You think?” I look up at my brother, his hazel eyes were beginning to fill with tears.
“I know so,” he said wiping the tears from his eyes. “And, I’m sorry I screamed at you. I should have put the clues together, and I should have let you explain before getting angry. Brindley is welcome at our house any time, I’d hate to see anything happen to her, we can’t go through that again.”
“Thanks,” I said, smiling as I moved my hand under my eyelids to wash away the remaining salty liquid from my face.
“Mikey,” Gerard was speaking in his fatherly tone again, I could only help but dread the words that were about to come out of his mouth. “Don’t let her be your replacement Emma, look at her as a new person, a new best friend. I know she will never be able to take Emma’s place, but please, for fuck’s sake, don’t let her be Emma to you, it would hurt you, and her too much.”
“I won’t,” I assured him, half laughing, half smiling.
I only hope I wasn’t making a promise to him I couldn’t keep…
Holy Hell, Michael James Way, what the fuck are you thinking? You’ve just met this girl after smashing into the back of her car because you weren’t paying attention while driving. What if she’s a creeper? What if her dad comes after her? Snap out of it. You’re not crazy, she’s a nice, pretty young lady, and she’s sitting in the passenger seat of your car. Talk to her, dumbass. I snapped out of my trance and focused my eyes on the road; I don’t think my car would appreciate another beating today.
“So, tell me more about your band, Mikey,” Brindley stopped staring out the window long enough to focus her attention on me.
“Well, technically, it’s my brother’s band,” I looked over at her with oan verly exaggerated puppy dog look on my face. “He started it, I mean. He just recently asked me to join him and his friends Ray and Frank. Gerard, my brother, he sings. Ray and Frank both play guitar.”
“So that means you play the bass,” she smiled at me.
“What if I told you I played the drums?”
“Well, then you would move down about fifty spots in my book of cool,” she laughed.
“In that case, I play the bass. You were right. Did I just gain my fifty spots back?”
“Yes, you can move back up to the number one spot, Mr. Mikey,” she patted my shoulder, it’s as if she’s trying to comfort me for the emotional stress her “book” was causing.
“Let’s make a deal,” I smiled at her. “You call me Mikey, instead of this Mr. Mikey nonsense, and I’ll let you crash at my place until your car is fixed. How does that sound?”
“I think that sounds fair, but, what if I don’t want to leave?” she chuckled.
“What reason could you possibly have for wanting to stay with me, my brother, and our friends any longer than necessary? We’re just a bunch of dumb boys hyped up on testosterone.” It was only the truth. I couldn’t lie to her, not this girl, there’s something too special about her to even think of doing that.
“Oh, I can think of plenty of reasons,” she was smiling.
The truth was written all over her face, she was terrible at hiding it. Her smile was large and inconspicuous, much like a child who has spotted the perfect puppy. Like the perfect puppy wagging its tail, Brindley was happy, and, as far as I could tell I was the source of her happiness. Judging from the severity of the bruises and gashes that encompassed her arms it had been a long time since she had truly smiled about anything. Seeing her giggling from the passenger seat was enough for me to make a conscious decision that I would never let her leave.
**
“Michael James Way. What the fuck did you wake up and smoke this morning? Because I want whatever the hell it is that makes you think you can just rear end the car of a random girl and invite her to live with us! Honestly, sometimes I wonder how you graduated high school. This is like the fork in the toaster incident, just stupider! This is stupid, Mikey, that’s all this is is stupid!” Gerard was screaming at me in the parking lot of the restaurant. To say he was upset would be a total understatement. To be honest, he was furious. Actually, he was past the point of furious; I’m not even sure what you’d call this level of anger.
“I’m sorry, okay, I’m sorry. If you could have seen her arms, you would understand. She ran away from home, Gerard. Her dad..he..he hurt her. Badly. She just wants a fresh start. We can give that to her, we can keep her safe, I can keep her safe,” I said to him. I kept my eyes focused on the ground so I could keep myself from crying. It was too late, I could feel the tears begin to fall from my eyes and slide down my cheeks towards the cold pavement.
I looked up at Gerard and slowly placed my head in my hands to hide the shameful truth. I was crying over a girl I had met merely hours ago.
What are you doing?! Now he knows her secret, and she probably didn’t even want you to know. Way to fucking go kid, way to go. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. My mind was raging in a whirlpool of anger and confusion. I was angry at Gerard for yelling at me over something he would never understand, but I just couldn’t pinpoint why I cared so much. When Gerard asked me to be in his band I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t get wrapped up in a relationship that I didn’t have time for. You just want to make sure she’s okay, and keep her out of harm’s way, like a best friend. That’s all, Mikey, cheer up kid, it’ll be okay.
Gerard took a few steps and I could feel his warm hands rubbing my back like he used to do when I was younger.
It started when I was 14, right after Emma, my best friend, committed suicide. Emma had been my best friend for as long as I could remember, we were always playing or doing homework together. As we got older, we started to spend every minute we could together, we walked to school together, scheduled every class together, and even went shopping together. As the cliché says, we were glued at the hips, completely and totally inseparable. Emma lived exactly three houses down the street from me. She was the sister I never had that just so happened to claim her stake in a different house, not that she was there much. When she was 7, her parents stopped coming home. They would work long hours and end up spending the night in a hotel in the city, or so we thought. When Emma was 13 the truth was exposed for the gaping black hole that it was. Her parents had decided to see other people, but remain married to keep Emma out of harm’s way. They were never working late; they were just fucking random people every night of the week. What a great thing to find out when you’re just a little girl, right? After that, Emma’s parents moved to the west coast to better suit their whore like lifestyle. Emma spent the majority of her time in my room when her parents started “working late”, she enjoyed having someone around to talk to and laugh with. Most nights, she’d stay the night instead of returning home to the cold, lifeless house she was supposed to call her home. After the split, Emma was taken in as part of the family and given the spare bedroom downstairs. A few months after her fourteenth birthday, Emma hung herself from the laundry line. I was the one that found her, that found my best friend, my sister, hanging cold and lifeless in my basement. She had never even led us to believe she was depressed; she never gave a single warning sign. That’s when I lost it, I spent every minute of every day alone in my room, too upset with myself for not stopping Emma from taking her own life. I just couldn’t deal with the guilt. That lasted for a few months, and eventually I was able to get up and move on with life as best as I could, until I went to sleep. Every night at exactly 2:52 a.m. I would wake up from a hideous nightmare replaying a scene of Emma screaming and crying for help, and then just drifting away. And every night at 2:52 a.m. I’d wake up and Gerard would be lying in the bed next to me, his warm hands rubbing my back, his soft voice comforting my pain.
Before I knew it my face was buried in my brother’s chest, I was gripping his shirt with fists of death, and I was sobbing.
“She looks like Emma,” Gerard said. “That’s why you’re so worked up about this. You want to keep this Emma away from harm, protect her from the evils of the world. You barely know her, but you care about her.You want to keep her safe, something you couldn't provide for Emma, you found someone who needs your safety and protection, and you jumped at the oppurtunity.” His hand continued to move in an up and down motion along my spine.
“Her name is Brindley!” I assured him. “Not Emma!”
“I know, Mikey, I know. But she reminds you of Emma. You want her to be Emma, you want her to be your best friend. That’s why you invited her into your life so quickly, or should I say our house.”
“You think?” I look up at my brother, his hazel eyes were beginning to fill with tears.
“I know so,” he said wiping the tears from his eyes. “And, I’m sorry I screamed at you. I should have put the clues together, and I should have let you explain before getting angry. Brindley is welcome at our house any time, I’d hate to see anything happen to her, we can’t go through that again.”
“Thanks,” I said, smiling as I moved my hand under my eyelids to wash away the remaining salty liquid from my face.
“Mikey,” Gerard was speaking in his fatherly tone again, I could only help but dread the words that were about to come out of his mouth. “Don’t let her be your replacement Emma, look at her as a new person, a new best friend. I know she will never be able to take Emma’s place, but please, for fuck’s sake, don’t let her be Emma to you, it would hurt you, and her too much.”
“I won’t,” I assured him, half laughing, half smiling.
I only hope I wasn’t making a promise to him I couldn’t keep…
♠ ♠ ♠
Kind of unexpected, eh?