My Chemical Romance Short Stories

Bitter To The Bone

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS, CHARLIE BROWN.

But seriously. Happy holidays, everyone. Enjoy my take on Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol". I worked pretty hard on this and literally typed for two hours because SOMEBODY was pressuring me to upload. BUT I WILL ADMIT, it was good peer pressure because I finally buckled down and finished it. 

-Lola

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Bitter To The Bone

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Gerard walked down the city's streets alone. Snow was falling, which is entirely typical for a New England winter. Gerard hated New York snow. It wasn't pure white like he had been used to. Instead, the snow was gray from the pollution and smog that clung to the air. Filthy and ugly.

The snow landed in his greasy, black hair, melting from his rising body heat. As he walked through Central Park, he could hear carolers singing "Deck The Halls". Their voices were as smokey as the mist that came from their mouths. Gerard could not describe the joy these carolers brought him, because they brought him no joy at all.

Gerard hated Christmas. He was cynical, rude, and crass. In fact, his life had been a long string of his own selfish misdeeds. Quite recently, Gerard has turned away a charity worker who had arrived at his art school, seeking Christmas donations for children whose parents could not afford presents.

He has been sitting on his stool in the painting room, a blank canvas on his easel. This was always the best and absolutely worst part of painting. Gerard was deep in thought. The inner workings of his mind spinning as he planned the artistry of the soon to be painting. He was so deep in thought, he had failed to notice the red-haired, young woman with a red Salvation Army vest that said, "Doing The Most Good". She has a red bucket in her right hand. In fact, Gerard was so completely immersed in thought, he didn't notice her till she was tugging on his sleeve.

The touch of another human scared Gerard. He gasped, dropping a loaded paint pallete that had been sitting on his forearm. The paint pallete fell, the side full of paint ran quickly down his pant legs, streaking bright red and green paint in giant dashed over his knees and legs.

Gerard didn't have enough money to buy groceries for himself, let alone a new pair of jeans. These were his favorite too. Tight and black amd they fit absolutely perfectly to his this body. Infuriated, Gerard spun towards whoever was touching him.

The charity lady pressed a thin hand over her red lips. She had big, blue eyes that took up a ton of her face, which was surrounded by a huge mass of tight, red curls that met in the center of her back. She was incredibly pretty, but Gerard only saw some stupid girl.

"So sorry," She said with a light Irish accent, "So incredibly sorry." The woman reached for the brim of her red apron, the bells stuck to the bucket jingling. She began towards Gerard's pant leg.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Gerard snapped, leaping away almost as if he had been burned.

The redhead let her apron fall as she stood upright again. She seemed unfazed, biting on the edge of her lips."I....I wouldn't suppose..." The young woman held out her bucket, shaking it lightly. There was a jingle of change. Dimes and pennies and nickels inside red plastic.

It took only a second for Gerard to think of his next of his next move. Without a second to reason, Gerard swatted the bucket, and a cascade of change glittered across the floor. Just as Gerard has suspected. Dimes and pennies and nickels everywhere. Probably ten dollars at the most in change that people dig out of their pockets at the last second because that's the right thing to do. Donate to a greater cause. Do something good. At a time like this, most people donate fifty cents. Fifty fucking cents simply because it's what's expected of you.