Out Of Control

Trapped

Gerard's pov

T/W depressing/self deprecating thoughts, self harm.

I stood outside the school gates waiting for Mikey, I quickly lit a cigarette and inhaled the dirty smoke, I instantly felt slightly relaxed.

"Fuck me daddy" I ticced, I sighed loudly and stared down at my boots, "shut up you fucking idiot everyone's going to hear" I scolded myself

After five minutes and many offensive tics later Mikey came into view with his bag slung over one shoulder, black flag shirt ruffled.

"Bye Ray" Mikey said as he waved off his friend.

"Bye Mikes" The curly haired boy shouted over his shoulder

"Hi Gee!" Mikey greeted me cheerily, hair askew slightly, probably the result of his friend Pete's alight obsession with ruffling his hair

"Fuck you god!" I ticced loudly, I blushed slightly and looked around to make sure no one saw

"Sorry, hi Mikes"

Mikey ignored my apology and we began walking home, I hated this, having to wait for my little brother to walk me home. It makes me feel like a fucking little kid that can't do anything without help. Mikey never complains though. I feel bad for him, he shouldn't have to watch out for me, it's should be me watching out for him not the other way around, I'm supposed to be the older brother after all. He should be able to go out with his friends after school and not have to wait until our mother comes back from work.

We approached the same gates to the park that we always walk through on our way to and from school when a familiar sensation arose in my legs. I tried to ignore it and stop the sensation from increasing, to no avail.

"Just a sec, Mikey" I warned as I threw my head back sharply.

Mikey stopped his rant about how Ray had played his guitar in music and how amazing it was.

"You okay, Gee?

I hummed slightly in confirmation as I tightly clenched the muscles in my legs, the horrific sensation in my legs won over however as I buckled and fell to a kneeling position in the middle of the path my legs still tense.

Mikey came and crouched down next to me and looked at me with sympathy as we both waited for it to pass. It eventually did and I staggered back into a standing position and we slowly continued our treacherous voyage back home.

I fucking hate tics that extreme, more so than the near constant spasms and twitches. This is why I have to walk home with Mikey, because being fucking disabled I'm a liability and could get hit by a car or something. Honestly though if I did have a leg disabling tic in the middle of the road I have no idea what Mikey is supposed to do.

"Pigeon!" I yelled as we approached the main road

I threw my head and shoulders back "take me God!" I shouted to the heavens, "for fucks sake" I thought to myself.

Mikey discretely grabbed my sleeve as we cautiously crossed the busy road, yet again I don't know what grabbing my sleeve would do if my tics just decided to attack me and make me throw myself to the side but if it makes him feel better I won't stop him.

We reached our semi detached house that had little hanging baskets in front of the door, I ticced and whacked one of the baskets forcefully.

"Oh no I just killed so many plants" I said with mock sadness and giggled to myself quietly. Mikey chuckled and unlocked to front door.

"I'm just gonna have a quick shower, 'kay?" I told Mikey who was currently in the kitchen searching for snacks.

"Yeah, I might invite Ray round in about half an hour if that's okay with you?"

"No that's cool, Ray's nice" I said truthfully, Ray is one of the only people who doesn't mind my tics, well maybe except that Frank who didn't seem to mind talking to me today "He just pities you" my other inner monologue interrupted

I quickly made my way to my room and chucked my phone down on my bed and shrugged off my hoodie. I opened the bottom drawer in my bedside table and rummaged around the back for a while before grasping the metal box. It was an ornate box I had found when we moved in eight years ago, I used to use it to hide candy and my pocket money, it was now used for a very different purpose.

I carefully opened the engraved lid and selected my blade of choice, I brushed the short sleeve of my grey shirt out of the way and pressed the sharp side of the blade down firmly into my bicep before dragging it across my scarred skin. I did this a total of eight times on my right arm, the last one being a little deeper than the rest, and six times on my left bicep.

After wiping clean and putting the blade back in its place I headed to the bathroom in need of a shower.

Later that night I was sat on my phone mindlessly scrolling through Tumblr when the boy from lunch, Frank, entered my mind again. He did seem genuinely nice and interested in learning about tourettes but he probably just didn't want to look like an asshole, even tho it was nice to actually talk to someone, someone cute at that.

An: oop third chapter.

And quick low down on the tic Gee had in the park, it's essentially just a tic where your legs buckle/give way and it sucks balls.

Bai Bai duckiez