Gerard Way Oneshots

#27: Honey, This Mirror Isn't Big Enough For The Two Of Us

^(AMBIENCE INCLUDED)^

Trigger warning: excessive use of alcohol and pills

Note: The perspective changes in the middle of the oneshot from Gerard's to whoever you wish "I" is.

(PRESS PLAY)

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Gerard's Perspective
(Early 2005)

The miserable, drunken man in the mirror began to outstare me.

I couldn't look anymore.

The sweaty, shoulder-length hair was tiresome to look at. The constricted, hazel irises were surrounded by puffy red veins. And the pale, purple-tinted bags under his eyes showed obvious exhaustion.

The red was no longer a vibrant, passionate color. It no longer showed signs of life. All that remained were the crimson, swollen eyes. The mauve purple was done being a harmonious and peaceful color. Only the sad, exhausted purple circles under the eyes were left.

The man in the mirror was me, and I could not do anything about it. Everything that I could have done was far too late now.

While holding the edge of the counter, my hands shook. An open pill bottle laid out on the bathroom counter, with its contents scattered. It was the usual: antidepressants, and the strongest anxiety medication that I could find.

It was just a damn shame that I couldn't care for myself. I couldn't control my urge to drink the night away, neither could I control the amount off pills that I've taken.

There was no way that I could tell my lover about this.

"Hey, you be careful going home tonight." Ray's voice echoed in my head. He knew that I had a rough day at the studio.

But I shouldn't have been home. I should have stayed with someone if I had known I'd be this bad. Better, I should have stayed with my lover, who would treat me with care.

But why couldn't I care for myself?

The next stage was denial.

No, I didn't need help from someone else. Like I thought of moments ago: it was pathetic of me to not be able to control myself. I felt like an irresponsible child.

I was no child. I was a twenty five year old man who was perfectly capable of taking care of themselves. I didn't need someone to watch over me.

I didn't need help.

Slowly but surely, I was stable enough to walk out to the car.

I didn't need help. 

I eventually came to the conclusion that I didn't know exactly where I was going. I was not one to drive drunk, but it was my only option. I had to get away from all of the chemicals I put into my body, no matter how much I hated to admit it.

I may have swerved off the road a few times. It was one o'clock in the morning, though, so luckily there weren't very many cars on the road. I could have so easily gotten into an accident and seriously injured myself.