Status: Active
Kill All Your Friends.
We kick back and let the pills do the talking. (Mikey POV)
"Are we doing this or not?" Frank shouted from outside the bathroom door, I looked down at the phone in my hands deciding that Gerard would be fine and switching it to silent before I opened the bathroom door and stepped out into to the hallway.
"What the hell?" I muttered as I was greeted by Frank who held a large colourful box in his arms, he didn't seem to notice my confused expression and led me into the living room. He placed the box in the middle of the coffee table and began to unpack it's contents; I watched curiously as pens, feathers, glitter and pink paper were laid out onto the table.
"Where did you get all this from?" I asked staring at a dozen bottles of multicoloured glitter.
"I found it in my Mom's house." He shrugged, I smiled as I noticed 'This is Frankie's, keep out.' scrawled across the side of the box.
"What are we doing with all this then?" before he answered a bunch of paper and pens were thrown at me.
"We're making badges for people to buy to raise money for Bert's chemotherapy." Frank chirped throwing himself down onto the sofa with a piece of paper and a pair of scissors.
Our vivid dreams are just like big
production movies.
I looked over the hundreds of pink badges scattered across the table, the sofa and Frank's lap, I didn't know Frank was so creative but the badges were beautiful.
Frank got up from his seat and began throwing handfuls of badges into an empty box before picking it up and heading for the door, I followed quickly with my own box, I was doing anything to keep Frank happy; his
bruises were turning a sickening shade of purple and some cuts were still seeping.
"Let's go sell this shit." He smiled marching down the corridor and out into the University courtyard.
People hear a distinct rattle when we're walking.
At first people only watched as we decorated ourselves in badges and unravelled a sign with the words 'Help Bert, buy a badge.' scribbled along it in red ink but soon our little 'business' was booming. Every student who passed us was already wearing a pink badge and some were still coming back for another, our money box was filled with coins and made a rattling nosie when it was moved but my stomach was doing backflips.
Something was wrong.
"I'll be back in a second." Without waiting for a reply I left Frank and stalked off to a deserted corner of the courtyard.
I was alone as I flipped open my cellphone with only the spraypainted faces of graffiti watching me.
15 missed calls., 6 new texts and 1 voicemail, I panicked and my hands began to sweat as I noticed only some were from Gerard, the majority came from the hospital. I was shaking as I placed the phone to my ear and listened to the lone voicemail.
"Michael, this is urgent. Get down to the Hospital right now." Came the demanding voice of the nurse that cared for Bert, I had met her the few times I had visited the hospital and from the limited time I had graced her company I knew she wasn't one to panic, if anything she was the calmest person I had ever met. Which meant something was terribly wrong; I sifted through the barrage of texts stopping to read them every now and then.
'Iv done sumthin stupid.', 'Mikey, this is bad.' and 'I hate this, I hate this, I hate this.' were the most used phrases in the texts. Throwing my phone back into my pocket I ran back to Frank trying to stop my scared tears from falling. He could see my distress and quickly told everyone to leave before turning to listen to me patiently.
"We need to get down to the Hospital now." He didn't wait for an explanation and silently followed me.
Gerard looked dishevelled as he lay in his own hospital bed, handcuffs wrapped tightly around his arm attaching him to the bed making me realise he was no ordinary patient. His eyes were wet with tears as Frank and I approached his bed, my arm instinctively went to wrap around his shoulders and I pulled him into a make-shift hug.
"Gee, what have you done?" It was a rhetorical question, the nurse had told me the whole story as she led me to the small room that held my brother captive, "I think it's time you saw a therapist."
His body shook in my arms as a fresh wave of tears poured from his eyes.
It's hard to smile when your as flattened as a pancake.
"What the hell?" I muttered as I was greeted by Frank who held a large colourful box in his arms, he didn't seem to notice my confused expression and led me into the living room. He placed the box in the middle of the coffee table and began to unpack it's contents; I watched curiously as pens, feathers, glitter and pink paper were laid out onto the table.
"Where did you get all this from?" I asked staring at a dozen bottles of multicoloured glitter.
"I found it in my Mom's house." He shrugged, I smiled as I noticed 'This is Frankie's, keep out.' scrawled across the side of the box.
"What are we doing with all this then?" before he answered a bunch of paper and pens were thrown at me.
"We're making badges for people to buy to raise money for Bert's chemotherapy." Frank chirped throwing himself down onto the sofa with a piece of paper and a pair of scissors.
Our vivid dreams are just like big
production movies.
I looked over the hundreds of pink badges scattered across the table, the sofa and Frank's lap, I didn't know Frank was so creative but the badges were beautiful.
Frank got up from his seat and began throwing handfuls of badges into an empty box before picking it up and heading for the door, I followed quickly with my own box, I was doing anything to keep Frank happy; his
bruises were turning a sickening shade of purple and some cuts were still seeping.
"Let's go sell this shit." He smiled marching down the corridor and out into the University courtyard.
People hear a distinct rattle when we're walking.
At first people only watched as we decorated ourselves in badges and unravelled a sign with the words 'Help Bert, buy a badge.' scribbled along it in red ink but soon our little 'business' was booming. Every student who passed us was already wearing a pink badge and some were still coming back for another, our money box was filled with coins and made a rattling nosie when it was moved but my stomach was doing backflips.
Something was wrong.
"I'll be back in a second." Without waiting for a reply I left Frank and stalked off to a deserted corner of the courtyard.
I was alone as I flipped open my cellphone with only the spraypainted faces of graffiti watching me.
15 missed calls., 6 new texts and 1 voicemail, I panicked and my hands began to sweat as I noticed only some were from Gerard, the majority came from the hospital. I was shaking as I placed the phone to my ear and listened to the lone voicemail.
"Michael, this is urgent. Get down to the Hospital right now." Came the demanding voice of the nurse that cared for Bert, I had met her the few times I had visited the hospital and from the limited time I had graced her company I knew she wasn't one to panic, if anything she was the calmest person I had ever met. Which meant something was terribly wrong; I sifted through the barrage of texts stopping to read them every now and then.
'Iv done sumthin stupid.', 'Mikey, this is bad.' and 'I hate this, I hate this, I hate this.' were the most used phrases in the texts. Throwing my phone back into my pocket I ran back to Frank trying to stop my scared tears from falling. He could see my distress and quickly told everyone to leave before turning to listen to me patiently.
"We need to get down to the Hospital now." He didn't wait for an explanation and silently followed me.
Gerard looked dishevelled as he lay in his own hospital bed, handcuffs wrapped tightly around his arm attaching him to the bed making me realise he was no ordinary patient. His eyes were wet with tears as Frank and I approached his bed, my arm instinctively went to wrap around his shoulders and I pulled him into a make-shift hug.
"Gee, what have you done?" It was a rhetorical question, the nurse had told me the whole story as she led me to the small room that held my brother captive, "I think it's time you saw a therapist."
His body shook in my arms as a fresh wave of tears poured from his eyes.
It's hard to smile when your as flattened as a pancake.
♠ ♠ ♠
Song credit-Anti-D by The Wombats.
Commmmeeenntt<3