(I'll Stand With You) Through The Gates of Hell

Helena’s P.O.V:
A couple of months later I found myself carrying my suitcase out of the trunk of my parents’ car. Everything else had been sent in boxes three weeks earlier.

As Gerard and I had researched the school was living hell. We wouldn’t be seeing eachother much , mass every Sunday , and in the school’s own words: Catholic education at its best.

Oh shit.

The blue uniform made me look like Mother Theresa and it was uncomfortable itchy. It made me luagh when I saw Gerard also trying to reach his back to scratch himself.

Then, my mother brought me into a tight hug. I was forced to hug back since if not where would they send me next? Prison? One person I did want to hug goodbye was Mikey. Gerard’s geeky (in the best way possible) but caring younger brother.

“I’ll take care of him , Mikes.” I whispered to him as I let go.

Gerard’s P.O.V:
I helped Helena with her guitar case as we walked down the road to the so called dorms.

“Are you worried?” I asked her.

“Yeah.” She replied with a loud sigh.

“Me too.” I confessed. “But look if someone’s giving you a hard time just call me and I’ll karate some bitch up!” I told her trying to make her laugh. She gave that soft giggle.

As we approached the dorm building , we noticed the entrances were blocked with Mercedes , Porshes and Jaguars.

“Freakin’ rich-ass kids.” I heard Helena mumble.

I took out a half-eaten packet of skittles , Helena’s favorite candy. t I had bought it in a nearby 7/11 before we got here. On the half-eaten part I stand guilty.

“Here.” I said handing it to her.

“Thanks,Gee.” She said giving me an unexpected hug. She then popped a green skittle into her mouth. I looked up knowing we had to go opposite ways now. After giving Helena her guitar she began to walk away with her head down and her step tense.

“Lena!” I yelled. She looked up in my direction. “Don’t let them take you alive.” I told her. She nodded then smiled. She kept on walking.

Helena’s P.O.V:
I entered the dorm building nervously. Minutes later I got lost in a sea of pampered girls hugging “daddykins” away and making their fathers promise they would get allowence each month. It all made me sick.

As I moved on checking each door for the number 13 , I tripped and fell with a hard ‘thud’. I stood up and rubbed my knee which I had fallen on. I heard laughs behind me.

“I can’t believe that got in.” Someone said…about me obviously. From the corner of my eye I saw three typicall gossip girls. And a Gucci bag in the middle of the corridor. I groaned and kept on walking. To my relief , my room was only a few doors down.

I slipped in quickly closed the door and leaned on it for a few minutes taking deep breaths. Once I opened my eyes I saw a pile of boxes with my name written in messy handwriting . My handwriting.

I rushed to them finding peace and security as I opened the one with all my CD’s.
Music, my comfort zone. I suddenly heard noises from the far end of the room. I forgot I was sharing this room. As I looked to one of the beds , I noticed there were many pictures with family , friends and probably a boyfriend.

“Oh , hey. Whats up? I guess were roomates.” I heard a voice say.

Oh fuck. I wasn’t alone.

Gerard’s P.O.V:
“Shit!” I mumbled as I steppped into my dorm room. I had been dodging footballs , tennis balls , and soccer balls all the way to my room. And I’m pretty sure most of them were aiming for me!

When I looked up I saw a dude with exploded hair. At least , I think it was hair. It pretty much defied gravity.

He was holding a guitar and tuning it. Either he hadn’t seen me or he was ignoring me.

“Hi.” I greeted awkwardly. “I’m Gerard.”

“Hey , um I’m Ray.” He stated. I nodded my head. Wow , what do you know? We’re both not exactly people persons. I looked around the room. Apparently Ray liked liked music , too. Then a poster catched my eye: Iron Maiden.

“You like Iron Maiden?” I asked excitedly.

“Yeah,I consider them my favorite band. Number of The Beast is my favorite album.” He explained.

That about broke the ice…

Helena’s P.O.V:
I looked up to see a strawberry blonde girl. Her eyes were blue and she wore glasses.her clothes were the same as mine. Only her’s was a bit more tidy.

Preppy,preppy,preppy, I thought.

I stood up and stepped back a bit. I quickly snatched my prized The Doors CD out of the box an held it close. I didn’t trust people that fast. Especially around my music. She looked at me as if not knwoing how to act. I don’t blame her. I probably seemed like a retarded animal not acting normal and presentable.

“Are you oka-…I’m Sam Peterson.” She presented putting her hand. I shook her hand. I watched how her eyes studied my many bracelets.

“My name’s Helena.” I said clearly looking her in the eyes. Now , she stepped back uneasily.

Aww.. did I scare the shit out of her? GOOD. That was my ticket to never getting bothered by Sam fucking Peterson.

She looked for the first thing to possibly stare at that wasn’t myself.

“You play guitar?” She asked as she noticed my guitar case.

“Yeah” I answered taking Red (yeah, that’s his name) out of his case. I stroked its body pushing away the dust. I put my fingers on the frets and strummed away a few chords which equaled to the song Saturday Night by The Misfits.

“Do ya know that song?” I asked her .

She shook her head no. I could still see a bit of fear in her eyes.

“Should’ve known that.” I told myself.