The *** of Gerard Way

Mikey opened his eyes and found himself lying face-down in the dirt.

He flipped over onto his back and stared up at the yellow sky. The humidity in the air made his hair stick to his face. He wiped at the sweat under his nose and sat up. He looked around him.

He was in the meadow. The grass was so tall it came around his shoulders.

He struggled to get to his feet, but found it hard to get up.

"Mikey...." The faintest whisper made it's way to Mikey's ear. He jerked his head up and looked around him.

Only one name came to mind.

"Gerard?" He was barely audible.

"Mikey...." The voice sounded so far away. Like it was on the other side of the earth.

And this wasn't one of those ghostly whooooo whispers. It was one of those scary whispers that would make you shit your pants while debating whether it was the wind or your imagination, all the while shaking under the covers.

"Gerard?" Mikey raised his voice higher. "Gee?"

"Please...."

"Gee." Mikey grunted as he struggled to get up. He stood looking over the tall grass, watching the flies buzz lazily above the yellow flowers.

He spun around, observing his surroundings. The trees around him hung low to the ground, as if wanting a taste of the afterlife. The sun shone through the green leaves, shining bright spots on the ground.

"Please, Mikey...."

"Please what?" Mikey pleaded. "Where are you?"

"Here.
"Gerard!" Mikey yelled. He turned his head toward where he thought the voice was coming from. He started walking in that direction. "Gerard!"

"Over here...."

Mikey turned around and started running in the other direction.

"Gee!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. "Gerard!"

The wind whipped at his face as he ran through the shoulder-length grass. He struggled to keep his balance as he tripped over twigs and rocks, which was hard since he was still in his hospital gown.

He ran into the forest, encloaked in darkness. Sweat dripped down his sticky skin as he sprinted over tree roots and stumps.

"Gerard!" Mikey ran deeper into the forest, hoping with all his heart--no--hoping with the whole of his body that Gerard was waiting at the other side. Waiting just for him. Waiting and looking kind, and genuine, and looking alive.

"Mikey." His voice sounded muffled, yet close.

"Wait, Gerard!" He yelled. "I'm coming!"

Mikey's chest began to burn as his lungs stung for air. His legs felt like sacks of potatoes. Mikey began to slow down, finally coming to a halt.

He rested his hands against his knees as his lungs fought for oxygen. He took huge gulps of air.

His night gown was torn in multiple places. His feet, bare, were covered in cuts and scratches.

Mikey looked up, still breathing hard. He had come across a clearing in the forest. The trees surrounded the clearing, creating one big circle. A huge stump sat in the middle, gnarled and old. Long, twisted vines wrapped their tight, little fingers around the stump's girth.

Mikey took a step toward the stump, taking his hands off of his knees. He suddenly felt a sharp pain in his hand.

He sucked in his breath and looked at his palm. Blood seeped out of one long line, a slash across the palm of his hand. He looked to the side and found a rose, thorns sticking dangerously out of it's stem. A drop of blood stained the tip of one particular thorn.

"You're too late... A sad voice, so close that Mikey could practically smell it's breath, floated up from the old tree stump. Mikey realized someone was sitting on it.

Mikey's heart practically stopped when he saw him.

There he was, looking as good as ever. His hair was dark again, the color of night. His nose was a cute little bunny nose, plopped right in the middle of his pale skin. His eyes were intense, yet kind.

Mikey breathed in a sharp breath.

He took a step toward his brother.

"Gerard...." He whispered.

The ghost--Gerard--shook his head. He said something he couldn't hear.

"What?" Mikey strained his ears, hoping to hear his brother's voice again.

"I know..wh-...me..."

Mikey felt like he was talking through a walky-talky.

"Gerard... I can't hear you..."

Mikey couldn't hear anything from him now.

Gerard looked at him and mouthed something.

"Puh..." Mikey whispered to himself as he stepped closer to him. He took another step and another until he was standing 5 feet away from him. He still couldn't hear him.

Gerard's face looked anxious. He kept looking up at the sky. He mouthed the words over and over again. It seemed like his color was fading.

"Poh...puh..." Mikey stared intensely at Gerard's lips.

Gerard's eyes grew wide. He reached his arm out toward Mikey.

Mikey ran toward him and grabbed his arm. Gerard pulled Mikey into a tight embrace.

Mikey squeezed his eyes shut and hugged Gerard with all his might, trying to remember his feeling. He buried his face into his brother's chest and smelled the familiar smell of cigarrettes and peppermint.

He let Gerard run his fingers through his hair. He let him bend down and kiss him on the cheek. And he listened as Gerard whispered one last thing to him.

"Pelissier, Mikey...Pelissier..."

Mikey gave one final squeeze, only to find that Gerard was gone.

He opened his eyes and found himself surrounded by white walls, white floors, and white ceilings. He lay in a bed of white sheets. In his arms he cradled a white pillow, damp with tears.

His heart pounded as he realized it was just a dream. It was all just a stupid dream. Anger rose in his chest.

"Goddamn it!"

He clenched his fist and slammed it into the wall next to him. His palm stung.

Slowly, Mikey opened his fist and stared down at his palm.

One long line of dried blood was slashed across the palm of his hand.