I'm sorry that these are so sad lately, but, my writing reflects on my mood, especially with these...enjoy!
XOXO
Gerard's POV-
Crimson, my favorite color, my favorite emotion, my favorite...everything. Nothing else matters anymore, nothing but the blood. It's bittersweet, really- I'm letting myself go, and lately, I couldn't be happier...take the crimson away, however, and I'm empty.
Emptiness hurts.
Nothing else does it quite like the blood loss, no matter how many pills I take, or how much booze I drink, nothing beats the glint of a razor blade , or, my favorite, the glint of a knife, and the crimson that follows.
I wonder, just how deep can I go? How much blood can I lose? How many lacerations until I fall? How many days before somebody notices?
So far, it's been twelve.
I haven't gone into work, I haven't messaged anyone, and I suppose they don't pay attention, because nobody has checked up on me.
Lifeless hazel eyes stare back at me in the mirror and I crack a small smile before tearing my gaze away and focusing it instead on my wrist, hastily bandaged and inflamed, my smile grew wider.
God, what have I become? Was this what you intended? Did you mean for me to fail? Or...do you want me back?
Did Frank ask for me?
A growl breaks the silence and I snap my fist out, shattering the mirror, effectively slicing my knuckles in the process.
Crimson.
I snatch a shard of glass and clutch it tightly, embedding it into the palm of my hand.
More crimson.
"Gerard?" I freeze.
"No." I whisper under my breath, dropping the glass to the floor before moving to work on the bandages, peeling them off with a hiss as my scabs rip away.
"Gerard?" His voice came louder.
"Fuck!" I hissed, spitting into my palm and swiping up the glass a second time, bringing it straight to my wrist and slashing quickly. I repeated the action, with each one growing deeper and deeper.
Blood pooled at the scene of both my new and old injuries, bleeding together to form streams that dripped to the floor, forming a puddle and ruining my converse.
I hope they'd keep them on for my funeral, despite how bloody they were becoming.
"Gee?" Mikey asked, followed by three sharp raps on the door, "You in there?"
"Go away!" I snapped.
"What? Why, Gerard, come out!" He insisted, attempting to turn the knob, "Why is this door locked?"
"G-Go." My voice faltered and I dropped the glass again, making no move to grab it when it clattered to the floor. I clutched my wrist and let out a sob.
"Gerard!" Mikey was frantic, banging on the door, "Open the door, now!"
I made a move to do what he wanted, but slipped, landing in my own blood with a loud thud.
"Oh my god," I heard him curse, still banging on the door, "Gee?!?"
My thoughts clouded over and my tears stopped.
"GERARD!"
---
White.
Blinding, heart stopping white.
But where's my heart? Where's anything? I can't hear its beat..all I hear is white.
"You made it." His voice startled me but I couldn't do anything, where was I?
"Don't be scared, the brightness will fade after a while, then you'll be able to be with me again." He explained, his voice smooth and encouraging.
Frank.
"I love you."