10 years ago today, I watched police escort you out of the hospital, handcuffed and heartbroken. Mama stood next to me, holding my little hand and telling me it would be alright. She fought for my custody in court, winning me over with no visitation rights with you. Frankly, I think it was for the best. I mean, I could never trust you again. Even now, 17 years old and standing in front of the mirror adjusting my cap and gown, I still can't trust you. You know what that's like, Papa? There're two people in the world a person should be able to trust no matter what and know they love you unconditionally: their parents. And yet, I only have Mama. People try to fill in and help, but the void is still there. Remember how close we all used to be? How you would drive me to school and how we would sing along to that Lorde CD all the way? How you and Mama would sing me to sleep every night? I hope you can still remember because I barely can. I barely remember the man who was my father. All I remember was the man who almost killed my mother. You would suck up to me and try to tell me it was okay, but now I know how wrong that was. You would suck up to me and try to portray yourself as the good guy and you would try to paint Mama as the Big Bad Wolf. Now I know.
I know everything.
I know about the drugs, the alcohol, the prostitutes, everything. You had an apartment. A girlfriend. A kid. You were replacing us, but yet you didn't treat her any better. Mama talked to her and I know everything. You controlled her. You brought her off the street just so you could control her. You told her the only reason she was alive was because of you. You would lock her away like you would do to Mama. You'd beat her and hurt her too. You just couldn't learn, just couldn't stop. What happened, Papa? You were doing so well, too. Then you just dropped all your medications, went back to the drugs, and became the sadistic bastard that hurt us. You just couldn't stop. And because you couldn't stop yourself, we had to take measures into our own hands. And we won. You know why? Because peace always wins. Violence is never the answers. The good will win as long as they try. And we tried, Papa. We tried.
It took years of therapy before Mama recovered. She still has nightmares about it. Sometimes, she'll wake up crying and I'll have to comfort her, telling her it's over. You're in prison. You can't touch us. But I know that won't last. Because that damn retrial.
Mama won't speak in court. She's sending in her lawyer. She doesn't want to see you again. She's too afraid. She's afraid of you.
Frank will. He'll speak for us. Crazy. You used to date him. The two of you were best friends, former lovers. Now, he's set on keeping you in. He's protecting me. And he knows what best for you.
That poor girl you dragged into this? She's speaking too. And the poor kid that she had, the one you're the sperm donor for? I met her. She's the sweetest thing. She looks too much like you. It breaks my heart. Not because I miss you. Because she has the permanent markings and it will always be known what her history is and how she was brought into this world. She'll never be able to escape being the child of Gerard Way. Neither can I. We're half-siblings and I have to care for her, teach her the ways of the world. She's 11 now. And she wants to meet you. She has things to say to you. She even wants to talk in court.
You've ruined that child's life, just like you ruined ours.
I dreamed of being a rockstar when I was younger, just like you and Mama. I had to give up that dream because the world doesn't see me as my own person. They see me as the child of the singer who abused his wife. They see me as a reminder. I came out unscathed. You never lay a finger on me. They scoff me for that. "You probably hurt your mother too", "You have no right to talk, you didn't have to suffer like she did", "You're gonna grow up and be just like him." I tried changing my name. Still, everyone knows. I transferred schools. They still know. I can't escape.
Mama can never love again. She truly was in love with you. She would have given her life for you. She put up with it all because she believed you would change. Then you broke her. And she realised the truth. She realised that people will never change. And because of that, she's given up. You wouldn't recognise her if you saw her. She's lost. She quit the band, quit art. She works a day job at the library. We live in a small apartment, trying to save every penny. There's a bank account with hundreds of thousands of dollars waiting for me. I can't access it until I'm eighteen. I told Mama to break it open, use it for food, clothing, therapy, something. She refuses. She sets aside so much and sacrifices so much for me. She wants me to have a chance once I move out. I'm her last bit of hope. Because you took that from her. She's just a shell because of you. It takes so much to make her smile. The last few times I saw her truly smile, truly saw her come back and see the woman who was my mother. When I wore the prom dress that she made for me, a beautiful spring tulip yellow. When I came home from my last day of high school. When I told her I'm going to Pratt University and I'm going to graduate. When I showed her the first song I wrote. Those are the few times I see she's still in there. She's still alive. And I hope, that with time, she'll slowly come back.
But in this recent week, she's been locked away from the world. She can't breathe. She's afraid that you're going to be free and you're going to come back and hurt her. She's afraid that you're going find us. I promise her you won't and I'm going to make sure of it. You aren't going to come back.
Your re-trial is in two weeks. They want to give you parole. They want to release you. But we won't let you. They need witnesses to speak against you? They have witnesses. I didn't speak that first time. But this time, I will. I know things, remember? I won't let you free.
This is it, Gerard. You're no longer my father. Just wait until Bandit Ballato steps into the courtroom. You'll regret everything.
I will get my vengeance. I swear I will.
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five minutes
FanfictionTRIGGER WARNING: Abuse, alcohol, blood, near-death. A Ger-Z fic.