Kill The Gerard
Instead Of Oxygen
My breath was stopped by the shock and horror I seemed to be inhaling instead of oxygen, and I rushed and dropped to my knees, the impact sending a tremor through my bones, as his weight landed on me, my arms seeking to catch him and finding nothing but wet blood on my fingertips and his trembling body in my grasp.
"G-Gerard..." I gasped, tears spilling over my eyes and coating my throat, my gaze shifting frightfully from his pale face and the wound, pumping blood so vigorously onto the stage.
My brother's wild eyes met mine, and he opened his mouth to speak, but instead of his voice a thin trickle of red dribbled from the corner of his lips to his cheek, choking him and making his frame buckle and collapse.
I could hear sobs escaping from my own lips, fighting past the barricade of tears, and my expression crumpled as I bent my head, burying my face in the crook of his neck.
This can't be happening. This can't be happening.
We shivered against each other as I felt his blood draining, first through his skin then my fingertips and onto the polished wood, and finally hands tugged him free from my embrace, and I watched, frozen in place, as they carried him out in a stretcher, blood still gurgling and dripping to the floor.
Darkness descended, with a final screech of white noise from the abandoned instruments, finished off with the anguished cries that filled the arena, from the mouths of the kids who came to see us to my own heart, knowing full well that this was the end.
The echo never fades.
"G-Gerard..." I gasped, tears spilling over my eyes and coating my throat, my gaze shifting frightfully from his pale face and the wound, pumping blood so vigorously onto the stage.
My brother's wild eyes met mine, and he opened his mouth to speak, but instead of his voice a thin trickle of red dribbled from the corner of his lips to his cheek, choking him and making his frame buckle and collapse.
I could hear sobs escaping from my own lips, fighting past the barricade of tears, and my expression crumpled as I bent my head, burying my face in the crook of his neck.
This can't be happening. This can't be happening.
We shivered against each other as I felt his blood draining, first through his skin then my fingertips and onto the polished wood, and finally hands tugged him free from my embrace, and I watched, frozen in place, as they carried him out in a stretcher, blood still gurgling and dripping to the floor.
Darkness descended, with a final screech of white noise from the abandoned instruments, finished off with the anguished cries that filled the arena, from the mouths of the kids who came to see us to my own heart, knowing full well that this was the end.
The echo never fades.