Ghosted Memories

It was raining torrentially. The day was grey. They walked slowly, their faces wet. They were hugging. They were remembering.

Everything had happened in a day which they considered normal, for the five boys. They were at the end of the world; they were proud soldiers of the American army, and were in the middle of a fervent battle, almost winning. It missed less until they were back home, to their families. It missed so less.

He risked getting up to go join his colleagues; he was sick and tired of being so far away from his four best friends. Which reason he had separated from them, no one could know. Whilst he walked slowly to go meet them, trying not to catch the enemy’s attention, he smiled, whilst his glasses fell through his nasal bone, stopping at its tip. He laughed softly, just like his friend, and then, everything changes. He felt something hot go through his chest, provoking him a pain so strong that he screamed. His yell was echoed by one of someone else, but he couldn’t identify who. A warm liquid spread across his uniform, and he reached his hands to the spot where the pain was still pumping. When he looked, he was coated in a terrifying red liquid; his blood. He had been shot. He was going to die. He looked one last time to his friend, with a blurry vision due to his tears, and saw the one whom was more connected to him crying and screaming, fighting on the arms of the others to go meet him. With the tiny last force he had left, he shook his head to restrain the other boy to do whatever he wanted to do, and then, as he felt more bullets cross his body, he let himself go with the eternal rest.

~

“We’re here to honor Michael James Way, a honorable soldier whom died serving his country…" He couldn’t stand it anymore; this was too much for him to handle.

He ran away from that haunted place. His younger brother had died right in front of him, and nobody had let him go help him. He was unable to save him. The elder boy didn’t deserve to live, if he hadn’t been the hero that his little brother needed him to be. Even the day was crying the death of his sweet little brother, his only brother, Mikey.

Mikey hated when people called him Michael; he thought his name was too old. And now, he couldn’t protest anymore; his life had been taken. Now, Gerard would be haunted by all of Mikey’s smiles, all of the things his lovely younger brother never ever told him, all of the wounds that would ever gonna scar him…

Gerard Arthur Way would fall down, and, from all the ghosts that surrounded him, none was ever gonna catch him.