But I'd Like To Learn Your Name (Frerard Fanfic)

Chapter 6

Gerard's POV

After he leaves it's just me. I gaze at the clear blue sky. It looks too happy for what's going on right now, in my opinion.

I go through my bag to look for the small pocket knife I brought. I eventually find it. I lean my head back on the mausoleum next to me.

I pull out the knife. I pull down my sleeve to reveal my mutilated wrist. I press the knife down into my scarred skin. I push it down until it breaks the skin.

Blood seeps out. I don't even make a sound. I've learned to deal with the pain, it doesn't hurt anymore. I do it when I need to calm down now, not because I want to hurt myself. When I want to do that I cut my legs, stomach, or face.

I make at least eight cuts on each wrist. I cover them with my sleeve, not caring if it gets blood all over the sleeve.

I reach into my pocket for the little plastic bag. I open it and pour a little on the back of my hand. Or maybe I could just overdose. This is enough to kill me.

I pour even more.

I make neat little lines on the back of my hand with my fingernail. I snort it until there's nothing left. When I'm done I lean back to rest on the mausoleum.

I close my eyes, and let the high overtake me.

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.
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My mind takes me back to when I first tried to kill myself. I overdosed just like now. It was on my antidepressants. Ironic, I know.

Everything was terrible back then. My grandma, my hero, my idol, my inspiration died. The next day at school I just broke. I had a full blown panic attack, the grief, the bullies, school and life at home was fucked.

The day after I had the panic attack my parents let me stay home. They were both at work, and Mikey was at school. So it was just me.

I remember they told me not to go anywhere. I knew what I was going to do. And I couldn't bear the thought of them finding my lifeless body.

I ran to the cemetery. My booze and pills in hand. I collapsed at my grandmas freshly placed grave. I didn't cry though, not a single tear came out. I just remember sitting there contemplating if I should do it or not. I wanted to join her. I missed her so much.

I'm going to do this. I thought.

I pulled out my tiny sketch pad and a black pen.

I scribbled down a note about how I was sorry and how it want my parents fault, and everything will be fine. Just an average, cliché suicide note.

I swallowed the whole bottle of pills with the vodka I stole. I ended up finishing the whole bottle.

I just laid there and closed my eyes. Just like now.

When I woke up I was at the hospital. Mikey was in the room with me. His face was red and swollen like he was crying. I'm not worth crying over.

He looked over at me right when I woke up. He gasped and hugged me. Sobbing into my hospital gown.

The first thing he told me was, "I'll love you more then you ever know."

That's not like now.

He pulled away and called for mom and dad. They came in with a worried but excited expression on their faces. They each hugged me.

So now they care. Is all I thought.

I went home two days after I woke up. Mikey told me everything. How he and mom went to the cemetery to place flowers in grandmas grave. They both thought I just wanted a break. I went to a concert or an art show or something.

They're both so naive.

When they saw me passed out at the cemetery at first they didn't think it was me. Mikey told me he picked up the note and read it. He's kept the note to this very day, every time I feel suicidal he'll remind me of the note and just talk to me.

He said that mom called the cops and I was taken to the hospital. I had to get my stomach pumped and I was in a coma for four days. My whole family thought I was dead.

But I wanted to die. I wish they never found me. Ever since then my life has become even more of a living hell. When I came back to school a week later everyone made fun of me. I got bullied even worse then before. One time it was so bad that I had to go to the hospital again, cause someone broke four of my fingers and a bone in my hand.

My home life was getting worse too. My parents didn't want to deal with me. I began to self harm. I remember they found out and they put me in a mental hospital when I was only 16. But that's another story. I honestly didn't think I would live to be 17.

Ever since the incident with the hospital my parents and my brother have just become more distant. I've become quieter. Some days I wouldn't leave my room at all. No one even cares.

Hopefully this time it'll all work out.

Um, well I'm sorry you have to read my terrible, depressing book. But like it said in the description, TRIGGER WARNING. I hope you like it so far, and thanks for reading!

In the end by Black Veil Brides

~Abikitty Asylum