My Guardian Vampire

'Oh, shit. Come on Rob!

Though I never told him he couldn't say that...

Damnit!'

Gerard seized Rob by the throat, and I jumped up.

"You little fucker," Gerard hissed, looking much more sober now. "If you think that's some kind of fuckin' funny joke." Rob looked scared shitless, the police guard suddenly coming closer.

"Gerard! Stop it!" Mikey yelled, and ran over, trying to pull Gerard off of Rob. Gerard ignored him. The policeman now shouted, advancing towards them from the other side of the cafeteria at a jogging pace.

I knew what I had to do.

"Gerard!" I yelled, running over. "Let go of Rob!" I saw most of the people in the crowd turn and look at me, but I felt only 10 pairs. Bob, Ray, Frank, Mikey, Casey, Grace, Brittany, Rob... and Bert.

Gerard didn't look at me at all. He let go of Rob, slowly, who quickly backed away as Gerard stood still.

"Get out of my fucking head," he hissed, still not looking at me, closing his eyes.

"Gerard..." Bert said, pulling at his hand. "I think maybe we should go now..."

"Al-Ali?" Katy asked. I pushed my hood to reveal my dyed hair, but the same face underneath. I didn't know what to say. Gerard's face was suddenly blank, and would not respond to Bert's now frantic pulling.

"Gerard?" I ventured, trying to look catch his gaze. I wished he would show some kind of emotion, yell, scream, or just do something.

He didn't move at all.

In fact, no one did.

"Gerard?" I said again, and his face flickered slightly. He began to move slowly towards me, leaving Bert behind. Bert went silent, and I could no longer see him as Gerard began to block my view.

I went to say something, but Gerard shushed me, putting his finger to my lips, his eyes finally meeting mine.

"I know you're just a dream, so don't say anything. I missed you."

He leaned over and his eyes fluttered close dreamily, his cold hands brushing against my cheek. He simply breathed for a while, no one saying anything, no one moving.

Eventually he sighed.

"I guess I have to kiss you now. The dream always ends when I go to kiss you, but this is the best one I've had yet. This is worth it."

He leaned over, and our lips met, connecting us for the first time in ages.

Oh, Fuck. I had been prepared for nearly anything—screaming, curses, even a slap to the face—but I wasn’t ready for this.

At first it felt amazing, but then all the horrible feelings came back, rushing to me in a deadly attack that drowned me, and I began to cry, slipping through Gerard's hold and pathetically falling to the floor. The police officer came over to see what was going on, but Rob intervened, saying he was all right and that I was fine. The officer was not convinced, and looked down at me and asked if I was ok. I just nodded and blubbered something that it was my time of the month, and he nodded and, like a true man, backed off quickly. I was so thankful he didn't recognize me for me, as I was now a runaway.

But that was all I was thankful for.

I could barely breathe I felt so horrible, the voice in my head screaming at me that I was a horrible, miserable, stupid and selfish person for kissing Gerard. I was a whore, a heartbreaker who just liked to fuck with people's lives. I didn't deserve Gerard, he was perfect and I would only blur and strangle his perfection until it was one dirty and bloody mess. I should be dead, just kill myself here and now, or at the very least run away again before I caused any more damage, my presence like a poison to all that was good in the world.

This was what I had been waiting for—the break in my sanity. It had finally come.

The kids were not as clueless as the police officer, for most of them had seen me all my life. Whispers started to circulate around me, murmurs of my name disappearing in the draft of the gossip circle around me.

I sat there crying, and no one of the people I had left behind moved for a moment. I was in a little ball, huddled to myself and basically hyperventilating as I was once again drowned by the waves of depression. I knew they hated me, the thoughts confirmed by the voice still screaming at me in my head.

…So I was surprised when I felt someone's arms around me, lifting me off the ground carefully. It took me a moment through clouded vision to realize it was Mikey carrying me out. He walked outside silently, and I tried to get out of his grasp, twisting and turning like a snake in his hands.

"Let me go Mikey! I fucking hate you! I hate you!" I yelled, now beating at his chest as he restrained my legs and waist so I couldn't twist. I carried on like this, beating at him as he silently carried me to the van, screaming profanities in his face. He sat down on the back of the empty van, and waited for my fit to be over. Eventually I gave up, and cried into his chest. "I want to die so badly, please fucking kill me. I can't take it. Please, please kill me."

"Why?" he asked suddenly, breaking his silence. The voice in my head began to scream louder, all the reasons I should kill myself right now, at this moment, before I hurt Gerard any more.

"Get the fucking voices out of my head Mikey!" I pleaded, crying more now. It didn't matter if he knew I was crazy any more, as I had no real reason to live.

"Voices? What voices?" I couldn't answer him any longer. I kept crying into his chest, and suddenly felt more arms wrapping around me, hugging me and people crying into my shirt. I could barely hear them, the screaming getting so loud in my head I eventually blacked out from the pain of the voice booming.

I woke up, my head pounding. I didn't know where I was, but the pounding made me think I was back at Billie's with a hangover. I sat up, and waited for my eyes to adjust, my vision hazy and blurred. "Billie?" I asked aloud, placing my hand to the space next to me. Instead I hit air, almost falling off the bed. I guessed I was on a twin bed.

"Is he Billie?" a voice croaked out grimly in the darkness, surprising me.

"G-gerard?"

"Is he Billie?" the voice said harsher now, and suddenly I was grabbed by the wrist. I yelped out in surprise, and snatched back my wrist, holding it to my chest and rubbing it with my other hand. That had hurt.

"What's going on? Is who Billie?" I then remembered what happened last night. "Oh fuck, my head," I said, grabbing my head. Everything was slightly fuzzy. Gerard drunk, Rob and him fighting, all the yelling...

I sat up, more alert now. Gerard was silent, his controlled breathing and the ruffling of the sheets the only noise for a moment. He looked terrible—his skin waxy and with a sheen, his eyes dark, darting away from me.

I didn't know what to say.

"Is... Is that really you, Gerard?"

"Is he Billie?"

"Gerard..." I couldn't believe I was talking to him. My dreams with him have always been good, no matter the circumstance, but this felt more like a nightmare. "What do you mean?"

He grabbed my hand again, this time much more gently, turned on the lights and put my hand in front of my face. I winced at the sudden light, but could clearly see the ring on my hand that took up my vision, blocking out the sight of Gerard.

"I..." I said, and suddenly my insides clenched. "I think I'm going to be sick..."

I ripped away from him and opened the door, running out of the room. I was on the second floor, and ran over to the sink in the mini-kitchen. I dry-heaved, expelling the nothingness in my stomach and heart. The sickness remained, my body begging for something to be put in there, probably just to be thrown right back out again.

I sunk down the side of the counter and sat on the floor, my head between my knees. I tried breathing heavily but the sinking feeling did not leave me, only getting stronger as I heard Gerard's footsteps echo towards me. He stopped, and kneeled down beside me, lightly touching my hair.

"What happened to you?" he whispered. I looked up at him.

"I don't know," I said, shedding more tears. I was so tired of crying, but once I thought this I only cried harder. All my stupid self could think about was a song that Billie had sung once...

She's all alone again
Wiping the tears from her eyes
Some days he feels like dying
She gets so sick of crying

God. I hated him. I hated his music, his wonderful, addicting music.
But most of all, I hated myself.
My stupid, Fucking, Self.

Gerard wrapped his arms around me, which disgusted me. He shouldn't be touching me, as I could feel my disease spreading to him, infecting his perfect self.

I stood up. He did the same.

"Please get away from me Gerard," I said, pushing past him, walking into the main room, trying to get to the staircase. Every second I was with him only was hurting him more.

"Ali, don't do this to me again," he said, grabbing my hand for the third time today. "I understand if you don't love me, but fuck it, you never told me why you left. If you're gonna kill me, I just want some kind of fucking explanation."

I froze and turned around.
And slapped him.

"Don't love you?" I said. He looked back at me from the slap, his free hand rising to his face. I hoped it stung, hoped it hurt so badly he would hit me back, get angry and realize what a horrible bitch I was. I was still crying. "I don't fucking deserve you. Please, if you know what's good for you, let me leave."

He didn't deny, just stared at me, shocked. I took this as confirmation that the words that had been screaming in my head were right. I turned around, ready to run, when Gerard spoke softly, so softly that I barely heard him.

"Your wrist..."

I froze, confused. I after a moment looked at my hands. I didn't see anything out of the ordinary...

"X," Gerard said, and suddenly he was in front of me, holding my right hand, looking at it closely. He then looked up at me with pure horror in his eyes.

"Please tell me you did this yourself," he whispered, the fear in his eyes now molting into anger. He was nearly hurting my wrist, holding it so tightly, as if he wanted to pull the rest of my hand away from the scar. “Please tell me you did this to yourself!"

"Gerard, I-" I said, totally confused. He let go of my hand, and grabbed me by the shoulders, leaning in close.

"You didn't, did you?" he asked shakily, looking into my eyes, and I could see tears brimming the bottom of his lids. I shook my head "no," and he backed off me, looking down and shaky his shaggy black hair, making a few tears to fall to the floor. "Billie Joe, fucking Billie Joe. I didn't think it was that Billie Joe..."

"W-what's a matter Gerard?" I asked, still crying myself.

"Please tell me you're not engaged to him," he said, suddenly looking up at me now.

"I-I am," I admitted, looking down shamefully. Gerard lifted my head up, looking into my eyes. He kissed me once, making my heart catch on fire. It was so brief, but it seemed to melt the feeling of an internal eternal heartbreak in a mere moment.

And he then broke off, looking away.

"Ali, you're his now."