Escalators {Frerard}[COMPLETED]

➳solivagant

um don't panic or anything but the chapter after the next one is the last one of this book thing. there's this one, the next one, an epilogue, and then it's finished://

ily

❝Solivagant- Wandering alone.❞

It was cold but I wasn't completely sure if it was raining. I didn't think it was, but every so often I'd feel a cold droplet hit my skin and I'd change my mind again. It could easily be my imagination, checking up that I was definitely still alive, and not that I was simply walking around in a daze about to walk into the path of a car or something.

One foot was placed in front of the other, over and over again and again. I wasn't taking any particular care in balancing, in staying to the pavement at all, and I stumbled more than once, almost falling headlong into the sparse traffic. I tried to care but I couldn't. I tried to stop being so goddamn over-dramatic, but I couldn't.

I couldn't do anything normally or properly anymore. It was as though Gerard was some extension of my soul, a being I could not exist without now that I'd had those few months to see what living felt like. I'd had it and now it was gone, and I couldn't fathom the point of existing without it.

I didn't know where I was going, but it didn't really matter. There was nowhere for me to go, not anywhere that I particularly wanted to be, not if I couldn't go without Gerard. Seeing as I had no idea where he was, no phone to call him (or indeed the police if I became victim to yet another murder attempt regarding our family. I was beginning to think that this was all part of my mom's plan, actually) and even my newly-broken state wasn't allowing me to delude myself into believing that anything good could possibly come from turning up at his front door.

So I walked. And I wondered about what he would be thinking. And walked. Did he miss me as much as I missed him? And walked. What was he doing to occupy the time he would have otherwise spent with me? And walked. Was he as broken as I was?

I could hear his name in my head. This wasn't an unusual thing, for random words to pop into my head and for me to think about them in depth, but this wasn't thinking. This was like a taunt from my own mind. Apparently it was healthy to hear people calling your name even if they weren't there, (a fact I had learned during an unnecessary psychology 'taster session' at school) but what did it mean if you were hearing someone else's? That wasn't a healthy mind, I could gather quite as much. My mind had turned against me completely at the moment; dragged down into a fathomless void of fog, and there was only one person who seemed to know how to get it out.

A black haired mess of a boy who'd become such a huge part of my very being that I was struggling to cope with the fact that I couldn't see him anymore. Sure I'd gone a few days every now and then without seeing him at some point in our relationship, but being told I couldn't was worse, especially since the only thing I couldn't have was the only thing I really wanted.

I kept walking, and walking, and walking. Maybe if I got far enough away then all my problems would leave me too.

I walked and eventually, I realised where I was. I'd done it unconsciously. Everywhere that I'd usually go in times like this, anywhere I'd have gone to be alone and to think things through were now tainted with the memory of him. The places I'd made decisions by myself weren't the same anymore. So I finally became aware of my surroundings, and I remembered.

I'd come here because it was the only place I'd never been alone. The others had all lost their magic now. The first time I'd been here was with him, so I felt unconciously and inexplicably closer to the memory of him. I wanted him, but memory was better than nothing.