The Tattoo Guy (MCR FIC)

Chapter 16 (Part 2): Age 27

Chapter 16 (Part 2)

Age 27

'Previously....

I skimmed through the books looking for a Dune book where I had cut out the pages to hide safety money- it was gone.......'

I felt like my chest was being crushed and that I was just running in circles- I was in a blind panic of not knowing what to do. Ivy. Get Ivy.

“Ivy!” I called as I took the stair 2 at a time up the staircase to the second floor where her room was. Opening the wooden door branded with her name and stickers, I reveal nothing- her bed has no duvet, her toys are gone, her wardrobe open and empty. I choke back a sob as I bring my hand to my mouth. My baby is gone. “Ivy!” I called flinging the door open to the bathroom, nothing. I open the door to our master bedroom- the wardrobe is open and Lyn-z’s clothes are gone leaving a few stranded shoes or dresses on the floor with hangers cluttering the bed. “Shit.” I sob but I don’t give up. They’ve left you Gerard- just like everyone else has. “No!” I roared and fled from room to room till I found myself back in the kitchen where a note is pinned to the refrigerator.

‘I’m sorry but she’s my daughter too. I came for what I wanted and you proved to me that you don’t deserve her- I think it’s best she comes with me. You had your chance Gee… Happy Birthday.- Lyn-z xoxo.’

“FUCK!” I roar with so much hurt and heartbreak. She took my daughter away from me just like I feared she would- she took the only thing that ever mattered to me and snatched it from within my grasp. My baby girl. My worst fear hitting me with the force of a thousand knives staking me to the very bone.

Mandy finds me hours later on the floor with the note in my hand and my cell-phone hitting the dial of Lyn-z’s number on repeat hearing the same “We're sorry; you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again." I was emotionless. Empty.

“Oh honey…” Mandy sighed and tried to wrap her arms around me but I didn’t move I just hit the redial again.

“We're sorry; you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again."

“Gerard honey let’s get you off this floor.” She tries to lift me but I shrug her off.

“Just send everyone away. I don’t want anyone here. Please.” I say which she nods and I hit the button on my phone again. “We're sorry; you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error….”

I do it again and again whilst my tears run dry. I am nothing now. In a tearless sob of anger I growl as I throw the phone across the room making it hit the wooden wall and shatter to pieces laying on the floor before me just like my heart.

I hear Mandy talking to me but I can’t hear her. “Gerard sweetie they are gone now, please let’s get you off the floor and to bed.” She says standing in front of me and crouching to my level.

“No. Go. Please. I need you to go.” I snap as my hands ball into fists and my brows furrow into a constant scowl.

“Please eat something and sleep on it. You can come home with me if you like. We can sort this out tomorrow.” She says as she walks to the door of the living room waiting for a response but I don’t give her one I just continue staring at the floor. I hear the door close and a continuous ring shatters my ears in the silence of the empty house.

I don’t know how I got to the moment I sat in my car with all my money’s worth of alcohol around me, the bottles of vodka, whiskey and brandy matched with a selection of drink I grabbed off the shelves. I hadn’t drank in over 8 years, I had to stop myself before it got too much, but here I was again just like I was in high school buying drink from the same guy who greeted me with the same enthusiasm as when I was 18 years old and water or coffee wasn’t an option. I had nowhere to go now. So I drove ‘home’. I didn’t even make it to my black wooden gate before I was sat on the curb just draining through bottle after bottle feeling that burn, feeling that loosening tingle of my cheeks and the numbing effect to my arms and legs; the ache in my jaw from every swig that made me want to stop and just keep my mouth open like my face muscles have stopped working. My hands were a shaking mess and with every bottle I open I remember what it was like to be a troubled teenage who’s best friend was the bottle, I remember sometimes I used to be asked into the backroom of the liquor store and we’d compete in drinking contests in order to get whatever I’d drunk free. I used to win, of course I didn’t at first but I built up a tolerance, I could drink past the point of getting poisoned and found it useful how I could still do it now- I was an alcoholic by blood and by nature- it was part of my DNA and I never lost it. Welcome back to loserville Gerard.

I find myself at the door I’ve been to many times. The door that opens into a family I wish I was part of- that the couple were my parents because they loved me more than my real ones. They understood me and took place of my Grandma Elena…. But I raise my hand before turning away heading to the place I wish had open arms.

“Oh Gerard.” They say as they open the blood red wooden door.