Buried Myself Alive

I woke up in the unfamiliar surroundings of a living room that wasn’t mine. I heard a noise coming from my right. I sat up and looked around. Blood rushed to my brain as I remember all of last nights events.

I stood up gripping tightly onto the sofa’s arm to gain my balance back. I don’t know why this happened all the time. Did this happen to everyone? Or was it from too many beatings?

I could hears snores coming from the two rooms behind me. I yawned. Through the window I could see the sun was barely up yet. What time was it? I stood up to look around for a clock. I figured there would be one in the kitchen, probably on the stove/oven. Of course, I’m wrong.

I groaned, giving up as I walked around in circles through the house. Either Quinn or Jepha would have one in their room. I quietly walked toward Jepha’s door. I prayed he wouldn’t wake up and attack me because he forgot I stayed in his house all night. I pushed open the door to find a mattress laying on the floor with Jepha on top.

Green numbers glowed from a small alarm clock that sat on the floor. It’s cord running to an outlet, god knows where. I let out a low groan as the time on the clock clicked into my head. 9:41 A.M.

I knew Jepha wouldn’t be up until around noon. Alcohol did that to you. Quinn would be up, I had no clue what his schedule was. Then something went off in my head that sent me into panic overload.

Fireworks and bombs exploded like the Forth of July and World War III in my mind. I was here with two guys I met for the first time YESTERDAY. I had nothing. I had me and the clothes on my back. Literally. I could never go backhome to Jeff’s place at this rate. I’d be dead.

A vision in my head, like an old fashioned movie screen in black and white, played my death. My gravestone; Franklin Anthony Iero, strangled to death by his own father at the young age of 17. Oh the beauty.

I had no plan, no nothing. I was trapped here. I guess Quinn could lend me some clothes. For how long? I sighed. This wouldn’t work. I knew it.

I closed the door to Jepha’s room and headed into the kitchen. I couldn’t help it if I was hungry. I opened the door of the small fridge that gave the kitchen a glow of yellow light. Milk, Chinese take out, ranch dressing, garlic, cheese, and a slice of pizza.

I grabbed the slice of pizza and took a bite out of it cold. Now, yeah this might seem weird to a person who has their mother set out a bowl of cereal for them or has a fresh batch a pancakes every morning. But to me it was normal. How else would I feed myself?? As if Jeff would ever make pancakes for himself, let alone me.

I brought the pizza with me back to the couch, leaving the fridge door to swing shut by itself. I was screwed. Big time. Even though I knew the more I thought about it the more paranoid I would get, I couldn’t help it. I knew my father. I mean he threatened to take my life on minor shit. I didn’t want to know what he’d do if I ran away..

I did my best to push the thoughts out of my head. I only got worse thoughts of last night. Mostly of Mikey, Gerard, and Bert. I had so much to thank Mikey for. Like my life…

Then I felt a pang, a strike of lightning through my chest, as I remember that kiss. I don’t get why it did that. Hurt. It made no sense. To me anyway. I’ve always been a dense person at times, then completely observant at others.

I took a bite out of the hard crust since I had finished the pizza part already. I decided to turn the T.V. on. I found the control between the seat cushions, of course. I lowered the volume down before the pictures and voices could show up and wake Quinn and Jeph. I didn’t need Jepha to wake up and listen to him puke all morning.

I flipped the channels until it landed on some news channel with the people in their suits giving the weather. Cloudy. When is it not cloudy?

I leaned back into the couch, waiting for the weather dude to be done. I know some people really cared about the day’s weather, but I could give a shit. Finally, the screen changed to this women with an emotionless face stating a murder that had taken place last night. Mother kills her 3 month old daughter then slits her own throat.

The world has officially gone to hell.

Bad news on top of bad news was broadcasted. I’m surprised we haven’t hit WWIII yet. It’s only a matter of time. Then maybe I wouldn’t have to worry about Jeff, or anyone. I sighed. I didn’t want all those people to die just because my single life sucks.

I pushed those thought out of my head, only to get a second pang in my chest. I thought lightning didn’t strike in the same spot twice. I tried placing the pain on something, give it a reason but I couldn’t. Then the picture in my head played again. His lips on his lips. I sighed in frustration. I shouldn’t care about what that guy, Gerard, did! I should be busy worrying about whether I was going to be staying here permanently or just for now until they sent me back to Jeff’s.

I couldn’t help but have those same fucking thoughts creep back in every time I pushed them out. I just couldn’t.

I laid back down onto the sofa since I had finished my ‘Breakfast’. I closed my eyes hoping to fall back asleep. When I remembered a specific conversation of last night.

“I don’t know if you’dwant to know this… but Gerardwas staring at you before he kissed Bert.”

“I-What do you mean??”

“Well it was kind of the reason I got pissed at him too.. But well if you didn’t notice before, Gerard’s not all that straight. He likes you, you know.”

My snapped open. I hate when I fucking do that! Ugh. NO. No. No. No. NO! Damn you little annoying bugs called butterflies. I rolled over so that my face was buried into the couch and pulled my hood over my head.

I couldn’t like that dude, could I? Hell no! I think no.. I growled at myself. Why the fucking hell did Quinn have to say that?

I thought back to the scene at the bar. Gerard’s eyes were on me and he did act really nice. I mean he talked to me, or tried. He did better then Mikey did.

Then that stupid voice that ruins everything spoke.

He still kissed Bert.

I really hate that voice…..