Bleeding Hearts, chapter 11
That night, Gavin didn't feel like listening to My Chemical Romance. Instead he pulled out a cd that Jan had recorded for him when she was bored. It was a load of cover-ups of other songs but he just needed to hear her voice.
"This night, walk the dead
In a solitary style
And crash the cemetery gates.
In the dress your husband hates
Way down, Mark the grave
Where the searchlights find us
Drinking by the mausoleum door
And they found you on the bathroom floor."
So, he did end up listening to My Chemical Romance, but Jan was singing. Her voice rang through his ears and it drove him insane. People had told her she was terrible at singing but when she really tried, she was amazing. He listened to that sweet, sweet, voice that he would never hear again and neither would anyone else. The thought of that was painful.
She had taken her own life and ruined his. He had an ounce of hope, while she was alive. But no more. It was all gone. His brain was shutting down. He couldn't see how he could go on like that. He closed his eyes and let her voice waft over him. He lay on his bed and just ran a knife over his wrist again and again. Blood poured onto the sheets but it didn't bother him.
He lifted the knife to his neck and held it there. He swallowed and felt the blade press slightly as his throat moved up and down. He held it down and slid it across. He felt light headed as his neck sliced open. The feeling of pleasure surged through his body but soon that was gone. All the burdens of that living hell that people call life, rushed back into his mind at once.
It was an overload of troubles. He rolled onto his side and stuck his hand under his bed. He took out a shoebox and took the lid off. Without looking at it he took out a syringe and filled it with morphine. He put the box back and held the needle to his arm. He emptied the syringe then threw it out the window.
"Fuck," He heard from outside. "Gavin!" Someone whispered loudly from out side.
He groaned and walked over to the window. He didn't have enough morphine to knock him out but he certainly wasn't thinking straight. He looked down and Tré was standing there.
"What?" Gavin asked angrily.
"I need to talk," Tré replied calmly. "Can you come down here?"
Gavin disappeared and a few minutes later, appeared in the doorway of the house. "Okay. I'm down."
"This way," Tré walked down the garden path and Gavin followed.
"Is this going anywhere?" He asked rudely
"Yes," He gestured towards his car. "Get in."
Apprehensively, he stepped over to it and climbed in. Tré sat in the drivers seat and started to speed off down the road.
"You said you wanted to kill yourself," Tré said which took Gavin totally by surprise.
"Well...I don't see any point in life. Jan was what I lived for. And now what I live for is gone so why do I carry on?" He asked.
Tré smiled, "Exactly what I thought. I have been living all this time waiting for the day she came to live with me. Then she couldn't look at me and killed herself. Why do I carry on?"
Gavin shrugged. "I dunno really. Why do you? Why do I?"
Tré looked at him with a stern look on his face. "Do you want to die? Completely honestly. If it came to it would you do it?" He asked.
Gavin thought for a few seconds. "Yeah. I would. I honestly would."
Tré gulped, "I want to die to. I have wanted to die all this time but the thought of Jan coming back kept me going. That thought isn't there anymore. I have put on this happy face for the crowds but I am so depressed when I am alone. It is unbearable and I can't show it cos I have this image of being hyper and funny all the time, but I'm not really like that. I have a much darker side and I know how you are feeling, so I am saying this now...do you want me to kill you?"
Gavin's world seemed to ground to a stop. He could actually die. For real. Not just threatening to do it. All his attempts before had gone wrong or he had chickened out because of Jan.
"I would kill myself too, not just you. Drive off a bridge or something."
Gavin was silent and slowly he started to nod.
"Yeah," He whispered. "Can I ease the pain first though?"
Tré was confused. "How?"
Gavin pulled out a few syringes that were full of something, from his pocket. "Morphine" He looked at it and smiled. "Makes me feel better."
Tré shrugged. "Well we are about to die anyhow so I see no point in you not doing it. In fact can I have some?"
Gavin passed him some and they both injected themselves. Tré started to feel dizzy and tired. He turned a corner onto a bridge. He couldn't see anything anymore he just heard a bang then it all went very cold, and wet.
"This night, walk the dead
In a solitary style
And crash the cemetery gates.
In the dress your husband hates
Way down, Mark the grave
Where the searchlights find us
Drinking by the mausoleum door
And they found you on the bathroom floor."
So, he did end up listening to My Chemical Romance, but Jan was singing. Her voice rang through his ears and it drove him insane. People had told her she was terrible at singing but when she really tried, she was amazing. He listened to that sweet, sweet, voice that he would never hear again and neither would anyone else. The thought of that was painful.
She had taken her own life and ruined his. He had an ounce of hope, while she was alive. But no more. It was all gone. His brain was shutting down. He couldn't see how he could go on like that. He closed his eyes and let her voice waft over him. He lay on his bed and just ran a knife over his wrist again and again. Blood poured onto the sheets but it didn't bother him.
He lifted the knife to his neck and held it there. He swallowed and felt the blade press slightly as his throat moved up and down. He held it down and slid it across. He felt light headed as his neck sliced open. The feeling of pleasure surged through his body but soon that was gone. All the burdens of that living hell that people call life, rushed back into his mind at once.
It was an overload of troubles. He rolled onto his side and stuck his hand under his bed. He took out a shoebox and took the lid off. Without looking at it he took out a syringe and filled it with morphine. He put the box back and held the needle to his arm. He emptied the syringe then threw it out the window.
"Fuck," He heard from outside. "Gavin!" Someone whispered loudly from out side.
He groaned and walked over to the window. He didn't have enough morphine to knock him out but he certainly wasn't thinking straight. He looked down and Tré was standing there.
"What?" Gavin asked angrily.
"I need to talk," Tré replied calmly. "Can you come down here?"
Gavin disappeared and a few minutes later, appeared in the doorway of the house. "Okay. I'm down."
"This way," Tré walked down the garden path and Gavin followed.
"Is this going anywhere?" He asked rudely
"Yes," He gestured towards his car. "Get in."
Apprehensively, he stepped over to it and climbed in. Tré sat in the drivers seat and started to speed off down the road.
"You said you wanted to kill yourself," Tré said which took Gavin totally by surprise.
"Well...I don't see any point in life. Jan was what I lived for. And now what I live for is gone so why do I carry on?" He asked.
Tré smiled, "Exactly what I thought. I have been living all this time waiting for the day she came to live with me. Then she couldn't look at me and killed herself. Why do I carry on?"
Gavin shrugged. "I dunno really. Why do you? Why do I?"
Tré looked at him with a stern look on his face. "Do you want to die? Completely honestly. If it came to it would you do it?" He asked.
Gavin thought for a few seconds. "Yeah. I would. I honestly would."
Tré gulped, "I want to die to. I have wanted to die all this time but the thought of Jan coming back kept me going. That thought isn't there anymore. I have put on this happy face for the crowds but I am so depressed when I am alone. It is unbearable and I can't show it cos I have this image of being hyper and funny all the time, but I'm not really like that. I have a much darker side and I know how you are feeling, so I am saying this now...do you want me to kill you?"
Gavin's world seemed to ground to a stop. He could actually die. For real. Not just threatening to do it. All his attempts before had gone wrong or he had chickened out because of Jan.
"I would kill myself too, not just you. Drive off a bridge or something."
Gavin was silent and slowly he started to nod.
"Yeah," He whispered. "Can I ease the pain first though?"
Tré was confused. "How?"
Gavin pulled out a few syringes that were full of something, from his pocket. "Morphine" He looked at it and smiled. "Makes me feel better."
Tré shrugged. "Well we are about to die anyhow so I see no point in you not doing it. In fact can I have some?"
Gavin passed him some and they both injected themselves. Tré started to feel dizzy and tired. He turned a corner onto a bridge. He couldn't see anything anymore he just heard a bang then it all went very cold, and wet.
