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Musicians/Music Groups Fan Fiction >> My Chemical Romance

The following is a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

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Of The Times I Didn't Remember...
By killmyending

 


Blood. That was the dark crimson red liquid that was coating the walls, dripping silently onto the floor. That was what was staining his pale skin. That was what had slowly pooled beneath the bruised and broken body of the boy that lay at his feet.

Life had abandoned him long ago. Death was beginning to mar his pale body, his skin was becoming blotchy, his limbs stiffening.

Oh god, he thought bringing his hands up to his face and in the process smearing more blood onto his features. There was so much blood, he thought as he surveyed the room.

How could all this have come from one person? How could all of this have come from him? He thought, his gaze coming to rest upon the person at his feet.

Finally he actually took notice of the person's face and not just the mess of blood and death.

"Gerard!" He cried, falling shakily to his knees.

His bloody fingers swept up over Gerard's face, his jaw, his cheeks, through his bloodied black hair only acquiring more liquid stains. Tears now flooded down his cheeks, mixing with the blood. Who had done this? He swore he would kill them.

He pulled Gerard's lifeless body into his arms, stroking his hair, as if to comfort him. The tears were now blurring his vision and dampening Gerard's hair.

Who had done this? How could anyone? These questions replayed in his mind.

Suddenly a flash of memory hit him.

Gerard's shocked expression, a bloodied wound, and Gerard's final dying words, whispered hoarsely from his lips. "Mikey, why?"

His eyes were searching for an answer even in death.

 

The preceeding was a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

Please see the Terms of Service for more information.

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