They Found You On The Bathroom Floor

We arrived at the hospital. You were taken to the ER, and I was told to stay in the waiting room. I sighed and sat down in one of the chairs.

“We’re one fucked up pair, aren’t we?” you asked me one day. The syringe you had used lying next to you.

“Yeah, the most fucked up pair in Belleville, New Jersey.” I answered, smiling.

After the first time I used heroin, I never touched it again. The feeling it gave was amazing, but I couldn’t keep inserting needles into my skin. I kept to coke, but you… you needed more and more heroin everyday.

“I’m moving in with James when we finish high school,” you said, looking up at the sky. “Mom’s leaving dad, dad’s moving to LA and Mom wants to go to New York, but I want to stay. I told my mom, and she’s furious.”

“Are you sure about this, Mary?”

“Completely. He’s the person I love most, except for you and my sis, but you’re like my brother. I could never go to New York and leave you behind. ” You smiled happily.

“Thanks,” I said. “You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met, Mary.”

Time goes a million times slower when you’re on a waiting room, worried as hell about someone. I called Frank and Mikey, to tell them we were at the hospital, without going in much detail. They both said they’d be here as soon as possible, and Mikey said he’d call James. This worried me greatly, but I kept it to myself.

You married James a couple of years after graduating high school. You seemed like the perfect couple to the whole world. And perhaps you were, at least for the first few months, or years. I can’t tell when it fell apart.

I went to college in New York, and you asked James if you two would move to New York too. He said no. You submitted to what he said way too easily. That was not the Maria I knew.

The day I left for college, you were on tears, and made me promise you I’d come back.

“Please, Gee, please. Promise me you’ll visit if I can’t go and visit you. Promise you’ll come back to Jersey. Promise you’ll be my friend forever. Promise you’ll never leave me…” you begged, crying.

I got the feeling something was wrong, but I thought I was overreacting. You were just sad I was leaving. That must be it.

“I promise you I’ll come back. I promise I’ll never leave you. I promise, Maria.” I said, hugging you tight. “But promise me you won’t do anything stupid, okay?”

“I promise, Gerard.”

Frank arrived and sat next to me, enveloping me in a hug. I felt tears falling once again from my eyes. I stopped crying after a while, reluctantly pulling back from Frank.

“What happened?” He asked, worry filling his voice, holding my hand. I quickly explained everything to him, trying to hold back the tears that kept stinging in my eyes.

I didn’t come back immediately after college. I got a job there, and I stayed longer. You’d visit me about once a month, and stay just for a day, sometimes the weekend.

Your addiction to heroin had increased considerably. It was no longer one shot a day, not even two. It was more than 5 a day. And that was on the days I saw you, I didn’t know how it was when you were home. I was getting worried, but decided it was not my place to say anything, since I was hooked on coke.

After 9/1 I knew I had to do something else with my life. Art wasn’t gonna make any difference in the world. We were evacuated to Jersey City after the attack, and I decided to go back home.

I started a band with Matt and Ray, and since we needed someone to play the bass, Mikey joined in. You became our first fan. You and James went to our first gigs. James always seemed upset about something whenever I saw him.

In one of our gigs, we met Frank. Frank Iero, the lead singer of Pencey Prep. You knew from the beginning I fancied him, you know me that well. When his band broke up, he joined us as rhythm guitarist.

“You two will end up together by the end of the year,” you stated after our first gig with Frank.

Mikey had arrived shortly after Frank, saying he couldn’t contact James. I sighed inwardly in relief. He was the reason you’d done this. I just knew it. What your father had done to you was being repeated by your husband.

A doctor came in and walked over to us.

“Are you here for Maria Santos?” He asked.

I nodded, not wanting to try my voice.

“She’s in a really bad state. She lost a lot of blood… Only one of you may go in.” The doctor said.

Frank gave me a little push as a sign I should go. I stood up and followed the doctor into your room. We reached the room they’ve put you in, and the doctor pointed for me to enter, staying outside and shutting the door as I passed.

I sat down on the plastic chair that was next to your bed.

“Hey, Maria…” I said in a low voice.

I paid the driver and got out of the cab, taking my suitcase with me. I was at your doorstep. You lived just a couple blocks away from my parent’s house, so I came here before actually going home. We’d just arrived from a year of touring, and it was about 5 o’clock.

I heard the sound of James screaming inside, and you yelling back at him, so I froze. You were probably both in the living room, since I could hear every word you said.

“You want to spend more time with him than with me. You always have. Your stupid lover!” James yelled. “He doesn’t even love you.”

“You know it’s not like that! He’s my best friend, like my brother, James, nothing more!” you were yelling back, I heard your voice crack. You were crying.

I decided I’d come back in a couple of hours, let you two work out your problems. I knew I shouldn’t have, but I thought it the best.

I walked over to my parent’s and settled into my old room. I was back in speaking terms with my dad, thanks to you. You talked to him, and I don’t know how or why he listened, but he did.

After a couple hours I texted you.

Hey
Im bck from tour. Kay if I drp by ur house?

I waited for your reply, but none came. I figured I would wait a bit longer. Still no reply so I decided to walk back over there. Every light in the house was on. I knocked the door, but no one answered, so I entered.

“Maria? James? Anyone home?” I asked.

No reply.
I started to freak out. I went upstairs and looked in your bedroom, and noticed the bathroom door slightly open.

I walked over and opened the door completely, only to see you collapsed on a pool of your own blood, several of the little bottles of heroin and syringes surrounding you, along with a knife. Your body was covered in dark purple bruises; you had a busted lip and a purple eye. I knew the only ones you’ve done yourself were the big, deep cuts along both of your wrists. You’ve tried to take your life, and maybe you have in fact succeeded.

“… Can you hear me?” I asked you.

No reply…

I took your hand, no longer holding back my tears.

“I-I’m sorry, Maria…I didn’t do anything to stop this…I knew something was wrong. You-You…. You can’t die. I love you; you’re my best friend, my sister, Maria!” I sobbed.

I swear I heard you whisper ‘I love you too, Gee.’ But I couldn’t be able to tell if it was my imagination or if it was true. Not two seconds had passed and the heart monitor emitted a non-stop beep. Your heart stopped beating. Your heart stopped beating.

I was shoved out of the room, back to the waiting room, by some doctors. I was in shock. Frank held me tight, not knowing what was going on. After what felt like forever a doctor came out and informed us they couldn’t do anything for you.

My best friend was dead. And so was a part of myself.


I miss you
I miss you
I miss you so far
And the collision of your kiss
That made it so hard…