Cuts And Bruises

Gerard pov


I woke up, sadly. 15 years on this earth taught me life never gives you what you want, and the only things that come easy or free in the world, are bad things.


Sometimes, when I'm watching True Crime shit, I relate to the criminals. I never plan to hurt a single soul, but they are always broken, beaten, damned and so fucking disrespected. I have just moved to New Jersey, not by choice, but it was better than living in shitty LA where everyone is stuck up asshole with fancy cars and high paying jobs. Personally, I've never been extroverted, never even had a best friend. The only person I talk to is my little brother, Mikey. Our parents didn't understand why I don't speak, but it's just part of who I am.


It's a thing called Selective Mutism, it's not often seen in people my age, usually in little children, so ,my parents originally thought I'd grow out of it. Never did. There wasn't necessarily a reason for it, or atleast thats what they thought, so I didnt  speak to anyone but Mikey. He's the closest thing to a best friend I've ever had.


I never really go outside, or leave my room, or anything really. But now we live in fucking New Jersey and I have to start going to school, originally I was part home schooled and part public schooled, which is a long, tiring process. The one good thing about living here, that could also be seen as a bad thing to most, was the amount of crime in the town I moved to, as a crime obsessed introvert, I will happily sit online all day and read about the 6 dead bodies found in a lake or in the children's parks. Call me crazy, it just fascinates me.


Today happens to be Monday, meaning I have school. Mikey is actually 2 years younger and meant to be in a different school, but his intelligence made him be pushed up 2 grades. I'm proud of that little nutcase. We moved to this shit hole about 2 days ago, we had already been enrolled into the school but we had to start on the Monday as we arrived  late nighttime on the Friday. I hadn't left my room, not even for food, since we got here. I had a toilet in my bedroom, which was located in the basement, and I don't eat often anyway so I was good down here.


I've always been very different, sadder. I've been self harming since I was 11, and I've been starving myself for about a year now, not even Mikey knows. No one is allowed to know. They will lock me up in a crazy home, I know it, I've seen it on the Internet.


"Hey Gee, you up? I've made you coffee and we've got classes in an hour." I dragged myself out of bed to answer the door to a tired looking little brother. Mumbled a thank you for the liquid heaven, starting to think I have coffee problem, and headed back into the basement room to get dressed.


I dressed myself in a long sleeved black Sum 41 shirt, black skinny jeans, a trench coat and some combat boots. Walking out my door, I almost bumped into Mikey, he apologised and we grabbed our bags to leave.


"sleep well, dearest gerard?" Mikey put on a weird voice, he always has done this in the mornings to make me smile.


"I didn't sleep much, maybe an hour, which is decent for a severe insomniac . How about you, dearest Mikey? " He giggled at the nicknames we had been calling each other for the past 5 years every morning.


"I slept decently, maybe 5 or 6 hours. Mama and dad weren't home all night, said they had work shit, how fun." He chuckled at his sarcasm.


After about 15 minutes, we turned up outside the school, which looked like a God damn mess. Public schools are like literally a social death wish, and when you aren't social it's just an actual fucking death wish. Oh so exciting.


Mikey and I were greeted at the front desk by a miserable looking lady, who simply handed us our schedules, which matched apart from 2 lessons, and told us our first lesson was just straight ahead down the hall. Walking in the direction of our first class, Mikey and I were completely silent, he understood I wouldn't talk in front of anyone but him anyway, so he just didn't say anything at all.


We quickly learnt that our first lesson was art, which Mikey and I would happen to love deeply. Together we had spent most days drawing . Despite the whole not talking thing, Mikey and I had always been close. It took years for me to speak to him, but he never pushed or judged me, it was like he was just meant to be my best friend, even if it is quite miserable having your brother as your only friend.


Pulling down the sleeves on my coat and heading towards the back of the classroom with and empty seat bedside me, I watched Mikey pick a seat closer to the front. Mikey had never been particularly extroverted but he found it easier to communicate then I had ever.


It was just as the teacher began the class, a small, punk dude rushed into the classroom, breaking into a sweat and apologising frantically to the teacher for being late. He headed in my direction, taking the seat next to mine.


Boo, did I scare you? I wanted to write a typical cliché frerard fic cuz I read them a lot. Anyway I know the timings and the ages and whatever else is gonna be totally wrong, but quite frankly, I don't give a single flying fuck. I write because I enjoy it, not so I can be judged for it. Enjoy though, not that anyone will read it

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