Status: First Fic :)
Where My Demons Hide
Thanks for the Venom
"Gerard!!! Get up here right now!" I hear my mother scream from upstairs. Well, this can't be good.
"Yes mother, dearest?" I sing-song from my room. Normally when I talk to her like that she laughs. No such luck this time.
"Gerard, you little shit, get down here right now before I whoop your ass!" Okay, now I'm scared. I've never heard my mother this angry before. I rush out of my room in the basement and enter the kitchen nervously.
"Why the fuck are you failing three of your classes? Do you WANT to go nowhere in life?" I inwardly cringe. My mother is one of those PTA mothers who is all about getting good grades and going to college and getting a job as a lawyer and all that jazz. She wants me to go to MIT, and completely ignores me whenever I try to tell her that I'm clearly meant to be an artist. Shes rambling on and on about my future and shit when I just give up and walk out. I can't stand how suffocating she is. I hear her scream my name a couple times but I ignore it. She doesn't give a shit about what I have to say, so why should I? I try to banish the tears from my eyes, but it's no use. Whenever I get mad, I cry. It's really fucking aggravating. I walk for about 10 minutes before I end up in front of my friend Pete's house. I knock on his door, and he opens it to my tear stained face. "Gerard? Gerard, whats wrong?" he asks worriedly. Pete's the kind of guy that can be a shoulder to cry on, or the the guy you can get totally baked with.
"Family shit." I answer vaguely. "Lets get wasted."
~6 months later~
I climb out of Pete's car, giggling like an idiot. Me, Pete, and Patrick are going to this party at Ray's house, and he told us he was only gonna have some heavy fucking drugs, so we smoked a few joints before the party. A lot of my uptight friends have been throwing the phrase "addict" at me a lot lately, which is bullshit. I could stop with the drugs if I wanted to, and I could bring my grades up, too. But, lets face it, not caring is so much better. I don't even do anything that bad. I drink, yeah, and I smoke cigarettes and weed. It's not an "addiction", I just like feeling the loose feeling I get from them. We're inside Ray's house now, trying to get through all the people to find him. The rest of the night is a blur. I kind of remember snorting something and Ray injecting something into my arm. I don't remember going home, though. I remember sitting in the back of a police car, singing some Misfits song. The rest is all black.
"Yes mother, dearest?" I sing-song from my room. Normally when I talk to her like that she laughs. No such luck this time.
"Gerard, you little shit, get down here right now before I whoop your ass!" Okay, now I'm scared. I've never heard my mother this angry before. I rush out of my room in the basement and enter the kitchen nervously.
"Why the fuck are you failing three of your classes? Do you WANT to go nowhere in life?" I inwardly cringe. My mother is one of those PTA mothers who is all about getting good grades and going to college and getting a job as a lawyer and all that jazz. She wants me to go to MIT, and completely ignores me whenever I try to tell her that I'm clearly meant to be an artist. Shes rambling on and on about my future and shit when I just give up and walk out. I can't stand how suffocating she is. I hear her scream my name a couple times but I ignore it. She doesn't give a shit about what I have to say, so why should I? I try to banish the tears from my eyes, but it's no use. Whenever I get mad, I cry. It's really fucking aggravating. I walk for about 10 minutes before I end up in front of my friend Pete's house. I knock on his door, and he opens it to my tear stained face. "Gerard? Gerard, whats wrong?" he asks worriedly. Pete's the kind of guy that can be a shoulder to cry on, or the the guy you can get totally baked with.
"Family shit." I answer vaguely. "Lets get wasted."
~6 months later~
I climb out of Pete's car, giggling like an idiot. Me, Pete, and Patrick are going to this party at Ray's house, and he told us he was only gonna have some heavy fucking drugs, so we smoked a few joints before the party. A lot of my uptight friends have been throwing the phrase "addict" at me a lot lately, which is bullshit. I could stop with the drugs if I wanted to, and I could bring my grades up, too. But, lets face it, not caring is so much better. I don't even do anything that bad. I drink, yeah, and I smoke cigarettes and weed. It's not an "addiction", I just like feeling the loose feeling I get from them. We're inside Ray's house now, trying to get through all the people to find him. The rest of the night is a blur. I kind of remember snorting something and Ray injecting something into my arm. I don't remember going home, though. I remember sitting in the back of a police car, singing some Misfits song. The rest is all black.
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Soo yeah. The actual plot line starts next chapter, sorry if this wasn't that great >.<