Worse Than Nicotine

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There's going to be a lot of triggers in this book. Anxiety, depression etc.. THERE WILL BE GORE!!! If you're squeamish I would suggest not reading this, but there will be warnings for major gore stuff. Please vote and comment!
(I suck at editing if anything is wrong tell me please)
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"Patrick, just fucking leave!"

"Fine Gerard! I hope your new bitch likes your tiny ass dick", I yelled. Tears threatening to spill from my glassy eyes.

I whipped around, walked out the door, slammed it behind me, and walked into the cold Chicago night air.
Fuck Gerard Way. That bitch smoked my heart like one of his cigarettes, and when he was done he left me to smolder on my own.

Gerard's love was like constantly having a gun cocked and pointed at me. Every move he made terrified me. Every empty "I love you" stung but I needed the empty words. I needed some kind of positive affirmation, even if it meant nothing.

The Chicago streets seemed quieter that night. Tension covered the city like the blanket of stars that laid over it. Shivers ran down my spine. I just hoped to be home as soon as possible. I prayed that I didn't get hypothermia; all I wore was a thin pink sweater and white skinny jeans.

I locked my eyes onto the ground, and tried only to focus on my feet slapping against the concrete below me.

Thud thud, thud thud.

After a couple more minutes of the melodic white noise of my feet falling in pairs I heard another set of footsteps off in the distance.

I spun around and saw a man. He appeared to be the same age, but more grizzled. Dark bangs swept over the side of his face and covered an eye.
I shot him a smile, and a small wave like I was taught to when I was younger.

He didn't smile back.

I shivered and kept on walking, my phone vibrated in the pocket of my jeans. For fucks sake. It's Gee isn't it?

God, I need to stop calling him 'Gee' he's just Gerard. For now. Out of my own curiosity and my obsession with the man that never ceases to hurt me, I stopped to check my phone.

The dark haired man now stood next to me.

"Hello", a wave of warm breath neared my cheek.

"Hi", I wanted nothing to do with this man anymore. The streets were empty and I was obviously vulnerable.

"You look troubled"

"Maybe I am"

"Elaborate, he growled.

"I'd rather not.", My voice was barely a whisper. My eyes darted to the buildings around me. He wouldn't do anything around these buildings, even if nobody was here.

Right?

As soon as I finished that troubling thought, he tackled my from behind, and put a rag soaked in something over my mouth and nose.

My instincts kicked in. I attempted to elbow him in the ribs, while gasping for air through the rag. My measly attack did nothing. He still held a strong grip on me.

Coping Mechanisms|PeterickWhere stories live. Discover now