Status: A lot written, a lot more to write.
The Red Ones Make You Fly, The Blue Ones Help You Fall.
Chapter One
I must be one really big fuck up. I mean really?!? How many stupid things can one person do in one night? I can answer that two, two stupid things, or as of right now at least. I, being the fuck up that I am, told my parents I was gay, stupid thing number one, and was going to attempt to break into my house, which I was kicked out of because of stupid thing number one( stupid thing number two, if you weren’t to sure). In order to get in I wouldn’t be able to walk in through the front door. I am so lucky I had a tree right next to my bedroom window or else my mission would have been a total and complete utter failure. All I had to do was climb the tree, open the window, grab my phone/ charger, and leave. In theory everything sounds better than it actually is.
I climbed the tree with no problem. I was use to it. I had a habit of coming home late from concerts and sneaking in the window. I just never had to worry about trying to get back out. I opened the window to my room and climbed in without a hitch. I quickly grabbed my phone and its charger. I looked around my room for anything else that I could possibly need. My eyes fell onto my guitar, Pansy. I couldn’t just leave her. So I did the only logical thing in my mind to do. I grabbed her case and quickly placed her in it.
After running around my, had been, room like a nut, grabbing shit and throwing it in my pockets I was ready to leave. In my haste I didn’t realize a rather large pile of clothes on the floor. (It was dark, and if I turned on the light they would know I was there.) With a rather large thud I fell to the ground, luckily not spewing all my shit all over the floor. I suddenly realized just how loud my fall was. The talking of my parents creased in the living room down stairs and the only thing that could be heard was the lazy drone of the telecaster on the TV. Suddenly I heard heavy feet marching up the stairs. SHIT! This was bad. This was really fucking bad. I didn’t have time to hide and I didn’t have time to climb down the tree, so I did the next best thing. I ran and jumped out the wide open window, hoping to whatever being there is that I didn’t break anything, and that there was something down there to break my fall.
To my absolute bitter luck there wasn’t. I landed on my feet. I dropped Pansy before I fell into a somersault. I checked to make sure I didn’t loose anything in my role and I didn’t, at least something was going for me tonight. I grabbed Pansy and ran to my bike, which I hidden in a neighbor’s bush. I jumped on and drove away as fast as I could, and as efficiently as I could. I didn’t have my helmet on, I had pockets full of my valuables, I had my guitar case in my left hand, and I was steering with my right. I had managed to slip my backpack on my back before I drove off but it was the least of my worries at the moment. My number one priority right now was to get to Mikey’s house as soon as I could. I hadn’t called him like I planned but I doubted he would mind me showing up this late at night. I didn’t occur to me until later that I could’ve slowed down but my mind was wandering, and when my mind wanders things don’t end up to well.
I wasn’t sure if they had seen me, if they had seen me drive off down the road trying not to see their expression, whether pained or angry, whatever it was I didn’t want to see it. By now I was only slightly aware of how fast I was going. I knew I was heading in the direction of Mikey Way’s house. I was rounding the last corner to Mikey’s house when I lost control of my bike. It fell over onto its side and skidded the last 50 meters or so to his house. I could feel my leg being scraped and destroyed between the asphalt and the metal of my slick black bike.
When my bike came to a halt my first reaction was making sure Pansy was okay. I would be fine as long as she was. After making sure Pansy was undamaged, I managed to push my bike off of myself to inspect my leg. It was defiantly broken. It was covered in long gashes that were oozing blood through my ripped and tattered jeans. I let out a pained groan and tried to stop the wave of dizziness that was coming over me. I looked up from my wreck and saw a stoop. Well more importantly an amazingly gorgeous man sitting on a stoop. He had a half burnt out cigarette between his beautiful lips. On his face was a look of pure horror. It just occurred to me that this was Mikey’s older brother, and that Mikey’s older brother had just witnessed me wreck my bike.
I tried to say something, anything. But the black splotches that were invading my vision were getting bigger and I suddenly felt very tired. Some of the last things I remember were Mikey’s beautiful angel of a brother shouting something. I couldn’t hear it. Everything was silent and all I could hear was my shallow breathing and the blood pounding in my ears. I saw the front door swing open and out ran Mikey. My hearing faded in but only for a slight second. In that time that I could hear I heard Mikey say, “Fuck Frank. Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be okay. I promise.” By this point Mikey was leaning next to me and I barely caught the look of worry on Mikey’s face. My last fading thought before my world went black was, ‘You’ve always sucked at lying Mikey.’
I climbed the tree with no problem. I was use to it. I had a habit of coming home late from concerts and sneaking in the window. I just never had to worry about trying to get back out. I opened the window to my room and climbed in without a hitch. I quickly grabbed my phone and its charger. I looked around my room for anything else that I could possibly need. My eyes fell onto my guitar, Pansy. I couldn’t just leave her. So I did the only logical thing in my mind to do. I grabbed her case and quickly placed her in it.
After running around my, had been, room like a nut, grabbing shit and throwing it in my pockets I was ready to leave. In my haste I didn’t realize a rather large pile of clothes on the floor. (It was dark, and if I turned on the light they would know I was there.) With a rather large thud I fell to the ground, luckily not spewing all my shit all over the floor. I suddenly realized just how loud my fall was. The talking of my parents creased in the living room down stairs and the only thing that could be heard was the lazy drone of the telecaster on the TV. Suddenly I heard heavy feet marching up the stairs. SHIT! This was bad. This was really fucking bad. I didn’t have time to hide and I didn’t have time to climb down the tree, so I did the next best thing. I ran and jumped out the wide open window, hoping to whatever being there is that I didn’t break anything, and that there was something down there to break my fall.
To my absolute bitter luck there wasn’t. I landed on my feet. I dropped Pansy before I fell into a somersault. I checked to make sure I didn’t loose anything in my role and I didn’t, at least something was going for me tonight. I grabbed Pansy and ran to my bike, which I hidden in a neighbor’s bush. I jumped on and drove away as fast as I could, and as efficiently as I could. I didn’t have my helmet on, I had pockets full of my valuables, I had my guitar case in my left hand, and I was steering with my right. I had managed to slip my backpack on my back before I drove off but it was the least of my worries at the moment. My number one priority right now was to get to Mikey’s house as soon as I could. I hadn’t called him like I planned but I doubted he would mind me showing up this late at night. I didn’t occur to me until later that I could’ve slowed down but my mind was wandering, and when my mind wanders things don’t end up to well.
I wasn’t sure if they had seen me, if they had seen me drive off down the road trying not to see their expression, whether pained or angry, whatever it was I didn’t want to see it. By now I was only slightly aware of how fast I was going. I knew I was heading in the direction of Mikey Way’s house. I was rounding the last corner to Mikey’s house when I lost control of my bike. It fell over onto its side and skidded the last 50 meters or so to his house. I could feel my leg being scraped and destroyed between the asphalt and the metal of my slick black bike.
When my bike came to a halt my first reaction was making sure Pansy was okay. I would be fine as long as she was. After making sure Pansy was undamaged, I managed to push my bike off of myself to inspect my leg. It was defiantly broken. It was covered in long gashes that were oozing blood through my ripped and tattered jeans. I let out a pained groan and tried to stop the wave of dizziness that was coming over me. I looked up from my wreck and saw a stoop. Well more importantly an amazingly gorgeous man sitting on a stoop. He had a half burnt out cigarette between his beautiful lips. On his face was a look of pure horror. It just occurred to me that this was Mikey’s older brother, and that Mikey’s older brother had just witnessed me wreck my bike.
I tried to say something, anything. But the black splotches that were invading my vision were getting bigger and I suddenly felt very tired. Some of the last things I remember were Mikey’s beautiful angel of a brother shouting something. I couldn’t hear it. Everything was silent and all I could hear was my shallow breathing and the blood pounding in my ears. I saw the front door swing open and out ran Mikey. My hearing faded in but only for a slight second. In that time that I could hear I heard Mikey say, “Fuck Frank. Don’t worry. Everything’s going to be okay. I promise.” By this point Mikey was leaning next to me and I barely caught the look of worry on Mikey’s face. My last fading thought before my world went black was, ‘You’ve always sucked at lying Mikey.’
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