You Can Run Away With Me [My Chemical Romance]

Chapter 5: Fish, Chips And London Buses

The menacing chilling sensation that rushed through my bones caused my slumber to come to an abrupt and unwelcomed end. The darkness that I appeared to be within didn’t falter, despite the fact that I had tentatively opened my eyes.

Slowly the blackness of my surroundings slowly faded, as my newly awoken eyes adjusted to the eerie lack of light. The features of what appeared to be a relatively large sized room gradually morphed from nothing before my eyes.

I pulled my body even closer inwards, feeling the nipping cold brush my finger tips without mercy. I pulled my knees up towards my chest and cradled them comfortingly, then a rocked back and forth repeatedly. A soft rustle behind me brought me out of the soothing trance and my neck swung quickly around to face the disturbance.

It was Gerard. He was huddled in the corner of the pitifully dark room, looking concerned. “You’re awake.” He spoke softly, almost whispering.

“I guess so.” I replied simply. “It was too cold to sleep.” I admitted.

“I agree.” He nodded, and pushed himself a little closer towards me, using his hands to push against the cool concrete as levers.

“So where are we?” I asked, knowing it was a useless question to be asking at such a time.

“I have no idea,” Gerard murmured. “I remember being taken from the van into this building, but after that everything was a blur.” He shrugged.

“They must’ve drugged us, again.” I spat, the anger coursing through me viciously. “Fucking dicks.”

Gerard didn’t reply with words, he only grunted quietly in recognition of what I had said but continued to shuffle tentively closer, his bare feet scraping slightly against the sickly grey of the concrete.

“Gerard?” I asked inquisitively, looking down the length of my legs to see the stumps of mass that were my fully shoed feet. “What happened to your shoes?” I continued, eyeing his bare feet worriedly.

“I have no idea.” Gerard admitted “I woke up, and they were gone. They probably took them. Thought it would be funny to see my feet freeze to death.” He grimaced. I gave him a sympathetic look as best I could considering my face was numb from cold and he half-grinned back. “At least they didn’t take my jacket.” He considered, holding out his famous ‘Black Parade’ jacket happily, “It’s the only one I have.” He continued, trying to drape the black fabric carefully over the pale skin of his feet without bending his legs.

“I guess that’s lucky.” I agreed, pulling the jacket over the end of his toes where he couldn’t reach. After that we sat in comfortable silence, and I took the opportunity to assess the room we were being held in.

The walls were greyscale and in some areas peeling horrendously. There was nothing decorating the dull walls except from a small window and a metal coated door, which stood intimidatingly between the window and the far side of the room. Not only did the metal make the door seem scary and malicious, the small ‘cat flap-like’ opening in the door, like the ones you see in jail cells, was terrifying. It was a tiny opening, near the bottom of the door, obviously for where the food could be given and it was open, so that a small part of the ‘outside world’ could be seen. The glint of a pad lock chained to the door handle, stopping it from opening, could be seen through the tiny opening, making my stomach jolt nervously.

The floor was the same musky grey with seemed to emanate unhappiness and uncertainty. It was stain stricken and a green tint appeared round the corners and by the small window where mould had collected. The window frame was painted black and the paint had begun to peel back to reveal the light wood underneath. The window itself was cracked and dirty, the grime set deep into the deep ridges in the glass that it was mere impossible to see anything through it but its minute size presented this problem too. The window was positioned about three metres off the ground and could only be the size of a piece of plain paper. It was no good at all, as if it was there for some sort of hideous decoration rather than to serve any immediate practical purpose. The cracked ceiling tiles above rose high into the darkness and made the whole room seem bigger and more daunting. The room in its entirety was big enough so that when I made a noise, the echoes would reply after a second, as if it was taunting me.