This Is How I Disappear

After a few weeks it seemed like Gerard was getting better. He hadn’t had a drink since he got to Chicago, and he smiled more often. We decided not to talk about Helena for a while given that we both ended up crying when we did, and so far we managed to do just fine. But even though we didn’t talk about her, we decided to develop the poem she had written. I was getting better at playing guitar, and Gerard’s very creative, so we made it into a song. To be honest, I’m very proud of us, it turned into a great song and Gerard even discovered something about himself; he could sing. And then I don’t mean like off-key-sing, he actually had a great voice.
Now you’re curious about how it turned out, right? Well, it’s fucking amazing!



We named the song “Helena” to honour her, after all it was her poem and she was the one who inspired us to make it into a song. We sang it a couple of times and it was like she was with us. I know it sounds cheesy, but you have no idea what it was like. It was magical. I know she would’ve loved it, and in a lot of ways it represented our feeling around her death. Writing “Helena” was freeing and it made both of us feel a little better. We sat there for a while, just thinking about her, but not in a depressing way, in a way that made us both smile. In the end we had to break our “pact”, we had to talk about her. Just for a little while.

“Oh my God, I remember the day I found out she was smoking pot. I was so pissed you can’t even imagine. She knew just what to do t upset me!” He giggled.

“Yeah, she was a rebellious kid, wasn’t she?”

“God knows she was. I think she got it from our mom. She was so spontaneous and impulsive”

“You’re lucky. My mom’s the complete opposite”

“How so?”

“Well, after my dad and uncle died she was always like… a nerve wreck. She was always so nervous, so scared”

“How’s she doing now?”

“She’s fine, I guess. She’s in a mental institution”

“Oh, wow, I didn’t know”

“Yeah well, I don’t really go around and talk about it. I guess it just was too much for her. After Helena died I seriously wanted to kill myself, just disappear. I didn’t know what to do, where to go or how to live without her. And because of that I was constantly fighting with my mom. Or, I yelled at her and she ended up crying. I guess one day she couldn’t take it anymore. I found her in the kitchen and she’d slit her wrists, it was blood all over the floor… It was horrible. I mean, I knew she was depressed and paranoid, but I didn’t know she was suicidal. So the next day, at the hospital, I convinced her to contact a therapist and he thought it would be good for her to “get a break” from her life, so she was admitted to a mental institution. She didn’t really want to, but she seems to like it there. I visit her from time to time, and each time she seems to be doing better”

“I’m sorry, Frankie”

“No it’s okay, she’s doing really good. I just hope it stays that way”