Gerard Way Imagines (REQUESTS OPEN!)

Beautiful

A/N: ForMissClaragirlSummers

From Gee's perspective

I hear the kids laughing at me as I walk down the hall, catcalling me about my weight.

I try to hide, but that's a little hard when you're close to being the biggest person in your school.

When I get to my locker, there's a note posted on it.

Oh no, I think to myself. This can't be good.

Much to my surprise, the note reads, "Hi, Gerard. My name's Y/N. We're in first-period history together, but you probably don't know who I am. Anyways, just meet me by the boys' locker room after school. Thanks."

I feel myself heat up. I remember Y/N, the beautiful girl who sits behind me and to the right. Could she really like me?

As the rest of the day drones on, I deal with comments about my weight, how stupid I am, how I should drink bleach.

Finally, as the day comes to a conclusion, I meet up with Y/N by the boys' locker room.

"Hey," she says, toying with a strand of her H/C hair.

"Hi," I mumble.

"Don't be nervous, Gerard. I just... I really like you. I think you're smart and funny and cute, and I just really, really like you," she confesses.

I turn red again. "Oh, thanks. Y/N, I like you, too."

"Do you wanna go to homecoming with me?" she asks. "Please?"

I nod. "That'd be nice!" I exclaim, thinking of how much fun Y/N and I could have.

I'm reminded of my wrists, the awful scars of what I'd done the night before. I think of the terrible things that I hide with long sleeves and hoodies. I think of all of the times that I'd try to do something horrible.

"Great!" She hands me a slip of paper with her number written on it. "Call me!"

That night, as I'm sitting cross-legged on my bed, I'm staring at Y/N's number. Call her, says the voice in my head.

But the other voice in my head is louder.

When the hour is late and everybody is asleep, I sneak into my parents' medicine cabinet and fill my left palm with whatever it can hold: ibuprofen, Advil, those kinds of things. Then I grab my father's stash of alcohol and take it up to my room.

I start simple, a couple of pills, swig of liquor.

Halfway there, I find myself stopping. I grab the sheet of paper and dial Y/N's number.

"Gerard?" she answers on the second ring.

"Hi," I giggle. "Y/N, I'm trying to kill myself. Thanks for inviting me to homecoming, though."

I hear her gasp, then tears. She's crying. I made Y/N cry.

"Y/N, don't cry," I coo.

"Gerard, I love you. Please don't do this. I'm calling 911. I love you, Gee," she says, and then she hangs up.

Soon enough, I hear the sirens outside my door. The medics, they're in my room, asking me questions and dragging me away.

My parents are looking at me with big, concerned eyes, and Mikey is quietly crying.

What have I done? I'm a monster.

Later that day or night--I'm not sure which, I'm in the hospital. I'm connected to machines that are monitoring everything about me. They know all of my secrets now, how I just wanted to die.

My mother is sobbing and my father is trying to lecture me about the dangers of drugs and alcohol, especially when you put them together.

"Gerard, I just don't understand. Help me understand," he pleads, though I'm not sure I know how to explain what goes on in my head.

"Well, it's a little bit like a constant throbbing in my head and heart, telling me it's my time to go. You and Mom just never seem to notice that all I do is slit my wrists and try to die all of the time, I guess," I say, though that's what I wanted it to sound like. It probably sounded nothing like that, considering how high I currently was.

There's more crying as I fall asleep then, though I don't want to hear any of it. I try to block it out, but the pounding is back: You shouldn't have called her.

A few days later, when I'm admitted to go back home, I check my phone and see that Y/N has tried to contact me several times.

Y/N: Gerard.

Y/N: Gerard, I'm sorry. Gerard, please. I love you.

Y/N: When you get back, just call or text me.

Y/N: I'm so sorry.

Y/N: I'm so glad I called 911, though, because you probably wouldn't be here.

Y/N: Gerard, I love you so much.

When I call her, she's in tears.

"I thought you'd never call me," she weeps.

"I'd never abandon you like that, Y/N. I love you, too," I say.

"Gerard, I'll be here for you, whenever you need it. Please, never hurt yourself ever again. Your life is so precious, to me,  to your family, and to so many other people. Please, I love you. Thank you for calling me, Gee. Thank you," she says, sobbing in between words.

"I won't. I promise."

A/N: Please, anybody, don't hurt yourself. If you need professional help, please contact 1-800-273-8255 or if you just need somebody ever, talk to a family member or friend, or even if you'd like, contact me.

 A big thank you to @MissClaragirlSummers for giving me the idea for this, and a big thank you to everybody reading this!