The True Horror Began On Friday 13th

I lay back on the grey pillow, feeling very bored. I know it was stupid. Mikey had said I should lie down horizontally and calm myself, I had been doing that for the last hour. Nothing had happened, I thought by now I’d be a wriggling, screaming heap but apparently not.

“How’re you doing?” Mikey asked, poking his head found the door.

“I’m okay, my back only hurts a little down,” I mumbled, sitting up on my elbows, “But now I’m ‘calm’ can I ring Gee?” I asked, “I won’t shout or cry, honest, I just want to make sure he’s okay,” I asked, Mikey sighed and sat on the other side of his bed, “Please?”

“Alright, but I just don’t see the need in making you stressed again, I think I should do it,” Mikey said, leaning over my and grabbing the cordless phone. He dialled the number in super fast, like he’d dialled it so fast he knew it like the back of his hand. I crawled over to him, nudging my ear up to the phone so I could hear properly, “He’s not answering.”

“Try again -until he picks up!” I begged, Mikey dialled again and again and again and again and again.

“Hi, Gee, I know you can hear me, please pick up the phone. Don’t do anything stupid,” Mikey said into the receiver, leaving a message whilst rubbing his temples.

“Can we go to his house, please? I want to see him,” I mumbled in Mikey’s arm, “What if he’s tried to… die again?” I asked, Mikey put his arm round my shoulder and wound a lock of a ahir round his fingers.

“Get your jacket and we’ll go to his house. But, Ren,” he said, bringing his thumb under my chin and lifting my head,” I need you to stay calm aright? What ever happens you have to stay calm and remember that I am here. Promise me?”

“I promise,” I replied, nodding against his fingers, even though I was already beginning to sweat from being worried.

The drive to Gerard’s house was fast, but the was probably because I’d push Mikey’s knee down on the accelerator if I thought he wasn’t going fast enough.

“Ren don’t!” Mikey yelled when I got out of the car whilst it was still moving.

“Gee!” I yelled, running across the road and up the path as fast as I could. I heard the car door slam and I rammed my arm against the Gerard's front door, surprised when it flew open, obviously not having been shut in the first place, “Gerard!” I screamed, checking the lounge, my heart thudding when he wasn’t down stairs.

I raced up the stairs, tripping on several of the steps and getting carpet burns on my knees from the rips at the knee in my jeans.

“Ren, wait let me check first!” Mikey yelled, clambering after me. I scrabbled up the last few steps, screaming Gerard’s name again to see if he would reply. I just had a horrible gut feeling. I fell into his room, ripping back the covers of the bed to see if he under them. Every hair on my arm stood on end, my hips beginning to ache again.

“Gerard!” I yelled, switching on his bedroom light to see if he was cowering in the corner somewhere. I could hear the shower running from his bathroom and I made a stagger run, wrenching my hand on on the handle and pushing the door open.

Everything was fit for slow motion.

Gerard was in the shower, a crumpled heap of flesh. His back was only visible with all it’s blemishes. I screamed for Mikey, hot aching tears travelling recklessly down my face, clumping my eyelashes and sticking my eye lids. Mikey charged into the room, his footsteps almost soundless as he fell into my back, his hands gripping my shoulders to stop us both toppling into the shower.

He bellowed something inaudible pushing passed me and fell into the shower, his grey t-shirt beginning to stick to his back as he rolled Gerard over. I screamed when I saw Gerard properly, his face I mean.

Dead, he looked dead. His lips were colourless, his eyes open and glassy and a perfect bruise formed by his eye. I screamed, bringing my hands in front of my mouth as I slid down the doorframe, sobbing horrendously as I stared at him. Mikey was crying and shaking him, checking his heart, his pulse, before yelling at me.

My ears felt blocked, I couldn’t hear, I couldn’t smell, I couldn’t taste all I could do was feel my head splintering and see my Highschool teacher bathe in his own life.

I bit down on my hand, shaking my head as Mikey dragged him out of the shower, throwing him to the floor of his bedroom, before grabbing all the blankets and wrapping him up.

“He’s alive, we need to warm him, get me so more blankets! And turn the heating on!” Mikey roared. I stepped over Gerard, sobbing as I tried to find the heating system, “It’s in the kitchen!” Mikey yelled. I stumbled down stairs, trying to make my footsteps broad instead of awkward. I stumbled through his a dark house, knocking into chair and tables.

And then, as if maybe I was doomed by the anti Christ, a searing hot shot of molten water fell down my back, up my side, around my stomach. I screeched and gripped the edge of the table, beginning to sob harder when I felt a wet feeling run down my thighs and soak my jeans.

“No, no, no!” I screamed, clutching my stomach, “Not fucking now!” I cried hopelessly, trying to drag myself into the kitchen. The imaginary vice around my stomach clenched again, allowing another searing hot knife to fall through my hips and thighs, “Mikey!” I yelled, “Mikey!” I sobbed. Clutching the edge of the counter, cradling my stomach with one hand, willing it to just wait.

It hurt so badly, the kind of pain that made you want to tense everything up. My back heated up uncomfortably and I screamed out for Mikey again, balancing half my weight on the counter.

“What?!” Mikey asked, “No!” he yelled, clutching his shirt, “Not now! Not fucking now!” He screamed, “Gerard’s awake we need to get you both to that hospital, I’ll need to help Gee down, can you be okay on your own?” Mikey asked, my answer was the inevitable scream.