Room 253
Chapter thirteen
Useless, that's how I feel. I feel a hole that's devouring me. I feel nasty and smelly and shitty. And I miss you, Gee. I miss you so much I can't take it no more. I don't have enough money to escape this hell, I can only try to drink you away and disguise the ghost of your touch with rougher hands. I need to eat in order to keep alive the hate for myself. I'm selling my body again. Everyone just to keep you away from me. You were so much, you still are, my beautiful savior. But how....
It is raining and I like it. It seems like that water can wash you away. You're just a ghost now, an unpleasant image in the back of my mind. All the things you left start to be alien to me. I begin to think you never existed. I begin to think that you were a dream, your porcelain skin and hazel eyes a product of my artistic soul. I begin to doubt us, me and, above all, you. But that doubt is what keeps me from shooting a bullet to my brain. I hate you Frank, because you taught me love and make me live of hate.
Rain is still coming down and I feel trapped in this house. There is an incredible mess and I finished my cigarettes. I need them. Rain doesn't stop me. I take the money and my key and I quick leave home. I don't take an umbrella with me. I go out and it's freezing. The bar is not so far. I start to get down the alley and I finally enter the bar. I smirk in response of the faces the few customers make. But what do they want? It's 1 am and they're still here, drinking their miserable lives. Who are they to judge me? But the reflection on the mirror make me forgive them a little. I'm all wet and I have huge black circles around my eyes. I'm skinny and shaking and maybe a little dirt. I seem like a junk and I smirk at the thought of what I used to be. Now I'm just a regretful mass of flesh and alcoholic blood. I pay for my cigarettes and I'm on my way home. I paralyze when I approach the front door of my building. My packet falls on the ground with my key and my blood. I shake my head, trying to clean the fog surging in my mind. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be.
-You're....-
-I'm here Gee-
It can't be. It just can't be him
***
It is raining and I like it. It seems like that water can wash you away. You're just a ghost now, an unpleasant image in the back of my mind. All the things you left start to be alien to me. I begin to think you never existed. I begin to think that you were a dream, your porcelain skin and hazel eyes a product of my artistic soul. I begin to doubt us, me and, above all, you. But that doubt is what keeps me from shooting a bullet to my brain. I hate you Frank, because you taught me love and make me live of hate.
Rain is still coming down and I feel trapped in this house. There is an incredible mess and I finished my cigarettes. I need them. Rain doesn't stop me. I take the money and my key and I quick leave home. I don't take an umbrella with me. I go out and it's freezing. The bar is not so far. I start to get down the alley and I finally enter the bar. I smirk in response of the faces the few customers make. But what do they want? It's 1 am and they're still here, drinking their miserable lives. Who are they to judge me? But the reflection on the mirror make me forgive them a little. I'm all wet and I have huge black circles around my eyes. I'm skinny and shaking and maybe a little dirt. I seem like a junk and I smirk at the thought of what I used to be. Now I'm just a regretful mass of flesh and alcoholic blood. I pay for my cigarettes and I'm on my way home. I paralyze when I approach the front door of my building. My packet falls on the ground with my key and my blood. I shake my head, trying to clean the fog surging in my mind. It can't be. It can't be. It can't be.
-You're....-
-I'm here Gee-
It can't be. It just can't be him
♠ ♠ ♠
Another piece, folk. Enjoy.Love, G.
Ps: first paragraph is Frank's POV, second is Gerard. I know you know, just to be clear...
Ps2: they aren't great, but if you are interested, I have posted two short stories, a frerard and an original story.