At the Top of My Lungs (Gerard Way fanfiction)

I suppose, to tell the story- my story- correctly, I will have to start at the beginning.

Of course, my beginning starts with my mother and father. They were only dating at the time of my birth, but they were living together, and got married soon afterwards. As the story my father has told me millions of times goes, he wanted to give me a boyish name, while my mother was set on naming me Christine.

You see, back when my mother was in a better state of mind, she loved musicals. She grew up in Los Angeles and worked at a grocery store down the street from The Pantages Theatre when she was in highschool, which was apparently the largest in L.A. She wanted to pursue a career in musical theatre, but during her senior year her dad got a job in New Jersey. And when graduation time came, she decided to go to a local community college instead of hiking it all the way back to sunny California.

But her love for musicals never left her. I was named Christine after the leading female role of Phantom of the Opera, Christine Daae. My mother used to tell me that she envied Christine, which I always thought was odd. The Phantom tricked and kidnapped her, and eventually threatened her so that she would love him. But I would still smile as she sang through another angelic rendition of "Think Of Me".

My parents met in Geology, which for some God- forsaken reason was a mandatory class. It was only for a semester, but apparently they liked each other enough to get my mother impregnated. Nine months later and I am suddenly a breathing, living human being.

In the end my mother won, and I was named Christine. But, she was the only one who used it constantly, most people just called me Chris. So, I guess my father won too.

I grew up in a tiny little town in New Jersey. The weather was cloudy for nine months, and then hell- fire hot the other three. My neighborhood wasnt nice, but it wasnt bad either. There were very infrequently large crimes; rare enough that if a liquor store was robbed everyone would talk about it. Some kids go missing now and then, and the last big shooting we had was 8 years ago.

My childhood was uneventful. I excelled in school, but then again it was only elementary school. My father always used to brag about me to the other mechanics were he worked. I walked home throughout elementary school, because my mother worked at an office and got off at 5. My father usually had the late shift at the garage, so he would come home around 11 and kiss me goodnight.

Once, though, when I walked out of school towards the beginning of fourth grade, my father's beat up old Honda Civic was in the parking lot. I assumed the worst, someone had died, but it turned out to be the opposite. When I went home, my parents asked me how I felt about having a younger sibling.

I was overjoyed. I always envied the children at my school with siblings. It could give me someone to look after and love and care for. My parents seemed pleased with my reaction, and I was anxious for my new brother or sister to be born.

The next month I was constantly asking myself if I wanted a brother or sister. I heard that younger brothers could be terrible pests, but I heard the same about girls. In the end I decided it didnt really matter, but I knew that eventually I would have to share a room with the little life. My father already explained that for the first year or so it would stay with them in their room, but then I would have to share a room with it.

We lived in a two bedroom apartment, but the bedrooms were quite large, as were the kitchen and dining/living area. We couldve gotten a bigger apartment or house, but my parents used the extra money to pay for other fun activitites. I took guitar lessons and did ballet for a while too.

Eventually, I found out that I was getting a brother. Baby names were tossed around at the dinner table every night. My father told his boss about the newcoming baby, and he was now working in the mornings instead of evenings.

My personal favorite name was Aaron. My mother didnt like it as much as I did though. They enjoyed the name Jack though, which I despised. It was from the musical Newsies, and it was decided that was to be the new baby's name.

My mother's water broke in the middle of a day in June. I had just gotten out for summer break, and was at the hospital during her entire labor. 11 hours later, I was holding my new baby brother, Jack Enjolras Carson. His middle name was from the musical Les Miserables, just like mine- Eponine- was.

Jack was a lively baby. He cried sometimes during the first few weeks, but most of the time he was quiet. He slept a lot, and he looked very fragile. I was terrified to hold him just because I could hurt him. My mother finally coaxed me to get over my fear, and he became my playmate. As my last year at elementary school started, I would look forward to going home and playing with Jack.

I think my mother was also happy to know what she was doing this time around. She was only 19 when I was born, and now that she was 29 she felt more confident as a mother.

When Jack was 8 months old, I heard my mom screaming in the middle of the night. I ran into her room and saw her holding him and crying. We raced to the hospital, and within the hour we had the news: Jack died of mumps. He wasnt able to get his shots until he turned 2, and somehow he had gotten them.

The doctor tried to tell my parents that it wasnt their fault, but I dont think either of them heard. A week of funeral preperations and passed by, and the next thing I knew I was watching my baby brother being lowered into the ground. My mother was not crying, but my father was a bawling mess. I wondered why my mother had been acting so strange, the next night I found out.

There was a harse rapping on the front door, and I heard my dad answer it. Deep voices spoke to him and I heard him mutter a reply. Footsteps walked away, and then my dad yelling.

He was saying something along the lines of that he was grieving too and that they still had to look after another child.

I realized he was talking to my mother, that she had been with the men.I didnt understand why, and my father eventually stopped yelling and went back to sleep.

The next night I heard my parent's bedroom door open. There were footsteps past my room and then out the front door. I hurriedly got up and followed.

It was my mother. I stayed far enough behind her so she wouldnt hear me, but I am not sure she would have if I was walking right next to her. She didnt seem like herself. We had been walking so long that my sock- coveres feet were beginning to turn raw, and I contemplated going back. But, then we ended up at what I assumed was her planned destination.

We were standing on a bridge over the irrigation system that ran through town. The bridge was about three stories high, and had a fence so wandering toddlers wouldnt plummet to their death.

My mother began to climb the fence. She was planning on jumping. I ran and screamed her name at the top of my lungs. She didnt even turn around. I grabbed her hand and pulled her down, her head hit the concrete with a crack. I ran over to a nearby payphone and dialed 911.

And that is how my life turned into what it is now. My mother is in a mental ward and my father is always in a gloomy mood. I asked him once why he didnt divorce her, and he told me that he still loved her.

I relied on the companionship of the one friend I really had, Brendon. I had known him since third grade, and throughout middle school I really didnt talk to anyone besides him. Sometimes I felt like I was dragging him down, he was handsome and was really quite popular, but whenever I suggested it he would shush me.

And here we are, the present. February 17th. 6 years since Jack died.

Im now 16 and in my sophmore year of highschool. I have one friend. My family is in ruins. And I want to die.

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[A/N:

wow so i know it doesnt seem like a fanfic yet, it will be, trust me.

i got inspiration for this story as i was listening to "I never told you what i did for a living" for the 200th time.

that should give you some hints as to where it will be heading.

i have a killjoy fanfic im writing right now that should be closing up soon, so you can go read that if you want. its called Golden State by me, nuclearsiren.

keep it ugly

-Siren]