My Injuries, Your Injuries (Completed)

Chapter 7

It's been maybe twenty minutes since Mikey left and I'm really starting to wonder what he's doing. I mean, does he know who it is? Or not?

I cross my arms lightly over my chest and stare at the small television that's showing the news. I don't pay attention, I just watch.

After a little bit I start to get bored and close my eyes, wanting to sleep. Lately, I've just been wanting to sleep. Everything is just so dramatic and is happening so fast that sleep is the only peace I can get.

I lay with my eyes closed and allow the steady beat of the heart monitor lull me to sleep.

*~*
*Dreaming*

I'm sitting on my bed with my back to the headboard and knees pulled up just enough to balance my book on them and still be able to read it. I flip the page and continue reading.

I feel like I'm being watched, so I look up and around my room. Everything looks the same, I even look out the window and find nothing. I shrug and go back to my book, I guess I'm just being paranoid.

After a few more minutes I get the chills and I'm pretty sure someone is watching me. So, again, I look up and around my room. In the corner diagonal from me, I notice an arm in the limited light my lamp gives. I close the book and scoot back a little.

"Hello, Frank," the unfamiliar voice says, sounding oddly calm.

I don't respond, I, instead, scoot back further, not that there was much more space. I'm pushed all the way in the corner where my headboard and the wall meet and I still feel like it isn't far enough away from him.

He steps forward, just one step. It's enough to show his whole body and his face. I whimper and look down to his hand. He has a blade and is turning it in his fingers. It glistens in the dull light and makes me shudder.

"Gerard," I state, shocked. He nods slowly and shows a slightly sinister smile.

He continues to walk towards, going at an unbearably slow pace. The blade is still being turned in his fingers, even making little slits on the tips every time the sharp edge came in contact with them.

He stops by my bed and smiles, leaning towards me, putting one knee on my bed to support himself. He grabs out for my arm and tries to press the blade to my arm. I fight and fight, not wanting him to come near me with that God forsaken thing. My arms are pale and clear and I don't want scars.

He eventually gets a tight grip on my arm and press the blade to my wrist, "Ready?" He asks, staring at me through thick lashes.

I violently shake my head and body, trying to get him away.

He drags the blade down and, opposite to what I thought was going to happen, nothing came out. It was just a gash, a hole.

As if he didn't notice the strange happenings, he continued on, doing something on my arm. I feel the pain, holy shit, I feel the pain. It's like a million shards of glass and metal ripping my skin apart.

He finishes and steps back, admiring his work. The word 'stranger' is carved into my arm in all caps. "I'm a stranger," his whispers and walks back to the corner.

*~*

I open my eyes with an almost perfect memory of what I just dreamt. I have so many questions and I'm not even sure how to get the answers. Would there even be any logical answer for that dream? There can't be.

I look down at my arm and repeat what he said, "I'm a stranger."

What does that mean? I mean, everybody is a stranger to someone, but why would I just dream him carving it into my arm?

Mikey walks back into the room, making me very hopeful that he might have some answers. "Did you find anything out?"

He shakes his head and looks down. "No, I thought I knew who it was but... I was wrong." He lets out a sigh and sits back down.

"Oh..." I trail off, kind of disappointed. I was really hoping that he would find the person. "Well, how's Gerard?"

"He's good, I guess. I mean, I didn't... I didn't know." His eyes start to fill with tears, but he quickly wipes them away, obviously not wanting to cry.

"Didn't know, um, what exactly?" I pry, being the nosy person I am.

"He attempted suicide and I didn't know he had those thoughts and wishes, I just feel like I should've known."

Shit, I forgot about that. I vaguely remember Mikey mentioning that, then leaving with Donna. For some reason though, Mikey telling me this doesn't stun me, I just lay here, thinking.

Now that I think about it, Gerard did seem a little... depressed, I guess. His hair was in his face, he didn't really wear an emotion, his eyes were concentrated on the floor most of the time.

"I'm sorry, Mikes," I say, trying to comfort him. I don't know what I'm sorry for, but that's usually what people say when something bad happens.

"It's okay, I guess, I just don't know what I'd do if I lost you and Gerard, I'd just constantly feel like a big chunk of my life is missing."

I don't know why, but after Mikey finishes I get the extreme urge to want to talk to Gerard, like, get to know him. I guess it's because we both mean so much to Mikey.

We stay in silence until my mom comes in, a slight smile on her lips. "We can take you home later today."

"Really?" I ask, peeking up. I've really just wanted to leave, I enjoy talking to my friends and everything, but the nurses and doctors constantly coming in is getting annoying. Yeah, I get it, we have matching scars and crap, just look off the one picture, don't continually come in and look it. Gosh, I hate this place.

"I'm going to go talk to Gerard," Mikey says.

"Can I go with you after I get released?" I ask, hoping he says yes.

He doesn't say anything, just nods his head. Now all I need to do is hope that Gerard'll talk to me, not be quiet like he was when I met him.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I apologize if this chapter wasn't as great or whatever, I'm just dealing with shit and trying to update at reasonable times and I don't know. I'm sorry.

xoCrashFire