Teenagers scare the living shit out of me!

Revelations

Once we were inside the house, I noticed the place was completely silent. Gerard had his fists balled up tightly by his sides. I shrunk back slightly. Gerard was a perfectly lovely person normally, but when he's angry, it's like turning off a the light in a scary room. His tendons were showing through his neck and his jaw was clenched and he strode into the lounge, flinging himself onto the sofa.

"W-where are the others?" I whimpered.

Gerard glanced up at my eyes and his face softened. He looked down at his lap sadly.

"They-they turned me down, they're all at a party." He whispered, his voice was cracking. "So yes, I lied to you by saying that they were coming, but I couldn't stand to be on my own."

I felt my chest hurt, as if someone was squeezing my heart. I sat next to Gee, the tension completely gone from his shoulders. I rubbed his back, comforting him.

"You didn't need to, I would have come anyway." I say softly. He looked up at me in shock, his eyes wet and red.

"R-really? You'd do that?" He whimpered.

"Of course," I reply softly. "But why aren't you going to this party or whatever?" He looked down at his lap again and bit his lip.

"I...I don't get invited to parties." He spoke quietly.

"Well, do you want to talk about it?" I asked hesitantly. Gerard sighed and started to tell his story.

...................
(Gerard's POV)
It's two months since she left.

Why did she have to leave me?
What did I ever do?
All through these two months, I've felt nothing but fear and loss and overwhelming silence squeeze my heart while I curl up in the corner and cry until I have no more tears to shed.
Mum and dad don't help, they're always away on holidays, enjoying themselves and Mikey's just as much of a mess as I am. She was all we had left. All I had left.
Grandma.
I walk into the bathroom, my red eyes half closed, framed by dark circles. I gaze horribly into the mirror and perhaps would have grimaced if not for the gaping hole in my heart spurring choked sobs out of my mouth. My black hair had grown greasy and long, my pale skin clung to my skeleton without a layer of fat to separate.
It was all my fault.
If I wasn't so ugly - so weak - maybe she would have loved me.
Maybe she would have lived.
These thoughts raged my head in loud whispers and hisses as the razor blade slid across my white wrists, like opening a fresh envelope, and my stomach churned at the sight of my blood spilling out of the rip. I turned away from my haunted reflection just as the world around me darkened and I fell to the floor, whimpering miserably.

Mikey found me the following morning. He was crying desperately, holding me to his chest on my bed.
"Gee please...please...please s-stop...I-I can't live without you...please don't do that again..." he sobbed into my shirt.
My chest clenched once again. I felt fresh tears begin to fall, making trails down my cheeks.
"P-please say you won't do that again...please say you'll try to get better." He looked up into my eyes. His were wide and full of pain, hurt and...love? I looked into those eyes and felt myself break all over again. I looked up at the cream ceiling, saving me from that pained gaze.
"B-but it's the only thing that helps, M-Mikes...it's the only thing I deserve...It's my fault that she...that she..."
"Died?" Mikey muttered angrily. I looked back down at him, shocked. "Yes, Gerard, because it's all your fault that grandma got ill, because it's all your fault she's dead. IT IS NOT YOUR FAULT OK?!" He yelled. I shrunk into the mattress.
"AND ALL YOU'RE DOING BY HURTING YOURSELF IS HURTING ME! WHY CAN'T YOU SEE THAT?! I LOVE YOU AND GRANDMA LOVED YOU!" He took a shaky breath, his cheeks just as wet as mine.
My breath came out as a whimper as I spoke sadly.
"Okay."

So there it is guys! Sorry to lead this down such a dark alley, but every good story needs conflict.