Last time you left Maria and her inconsistent timeline she was chatting with Gerard on an apparently moving, apparently empty, bus. Let’s see what disaster unfolds now.
“Hello?” He yawned almost coherently into the phone.
“Billie Joe! I’m sorry if I woke you, I’m on the MCR bus. I just wanted to tell you that I’m safe. But I’m sorry I called just now.” I rushed my words together in a huge mass of nervousness. Billie Joe must have understood, he must have at least gotten the MCR part of it because he didn’t seem to mad.
Wrong to/too, take a shot.
He simply said not to get into any trouble and hung up his phone. He was probably too tired to care and wanted to go back to sleep too badly to lecture me. When he didn’t have to worry about the kids or Addy he slept a lot. It was almost like his pass time.
“What was that?” Gerard asked looking up to me from his position in my lap.
“I just thought that BJ should know where I was. Can I call you Gee or Gee Gee?” I placed my hands on my knees, staring off into the abyss of the blank Television screen.
“Um… alright,” He said rather confused by me sudden question.
And now I’m a pirate. This is why proofreading is important, kids.
I nodded my head slowly. At that moment I realized how truly hot it was on that bus. I took off my sweatshirt and placed it behind the small of my back as a pillow.
The bus started up again I placed a hand on Gee’s cheek, caressing it softly like a mother would her new born child.
WHEN THE FUCK DID IT STOP?! If I ever set another story on a tour again the only things to happen on the bus will be sleeping, and fucking.
There are way too many comparisons to parents in what is supposed to be a romantic relationship. This is getting a little too incest-y for my tastes.
Gee looked down at my wrist, he registered what was on my wrist. Then he sat bolt up right. He grabbed my wrist forcefully simply staring at the carvings that had been pierced into my wrist. The lines meshed and swirled when I looked at them, they made spirals and zig zag patterns. I felt queasy and sick looking at them for too long.
“Maria…” Gerard’s voice was barely above a whisper. I could hear the disappointment, confusion, and sympathy in his voice.
You’ve known each other all of half a day, this is definitely not the time or place to discuss her self harm issues.
“Gee, you need to let me explain,” I was trying to word my excuse (for lack of a better description of what it was) without sounding insane, or in need of help.
Oh my gods, stop romanticizing depression and self harm. 12 year old Maria, the things that you will learn…. Mainly how mental illness and all the accompanying side effects are not romantic, and finding the love of your life will never fix these problems.
“Maria, you need to explain what?” Gerard stood up as quickly as he could. I stood up next to him, trying to look into his eyes to make my point more clearly. I didn’t answer his question. How could I answer his question? There was no good reason for me to be doing this. Instead I looked at him sadly. I looked at him as if I were a child who’d just stolen her mothers’ expensive diamond ring and then lost it. He looked back at me with a fiery, angry passion in his eyes. I knew that he wanted to help me get better. He wanted to make me feel loved. He wanted me to be alright with everything. I could tell you all this from just looking into his eyes. I was very good at reading peoples expressions.
You must also be a mind reader because I can guarantee you won’t be able to tell that from someone’s expression. Maybe she’s just secretly magical and her Ilvermorny letter got lost in the mail.
I could also have told you if he was drunk, or high. Though that wasn’t because I was good at reading people; that was just from years of being with Billie Joe for extend amounts of time.
“I didn’t mean to… do it that much. I was depressed. I had nothing and no one to bring me up in my life. I was so alone, so scared, so afraid. It made me feel alive. It made me feel like I could control the pain I endured. Like this was the only thing that I could control in my life. And secretly, I, I liked hurting myself,” I spoke in a volume that was lower than a whisper. I’d be amazed if Gerard had understood all of what I’d said. My words were rushed; some things were together, others just too far apart to be connected to my other thoughts. I just had to get it over with.
He looked at me with such anger in his eyes that I sat back down, hiding in the sweatshirt that’d I’d put back on. The room was suddenly freezing cold. Gerard looked about ready to murder, I was afraid that I would be number one on his hit list. Instead he walked over very very slowly, to sit next to me. I stared at him shocked, and amazed.
How could he be doing this after what he had just found out about me? No, better question; why would he do that after finding out about me? Shouldn’t he tell Billie Joe, because he didn’t know that Billie already knew? Or give me a lecture while pacing the room. Anything but sit next to me and look at me with caring, gorgeous, eyes that a love sick girl could get lost in.
You both over and under estimate his levels of compassion. BECAUSE YOU LITERALLY DO NOT KNOW HIM AT ALL! It’s really painful to see how high a pedestal I put Gerard Way on when I was 12. Okay, let’s be real it’s only slightly shorter now.
“When was the last time you cut?” He asked as if talking to a three year old. His voice was a forced type of calm; his hands were clenched together so tightly that his knuckles had turned white.
“Yesterday,” I spoke in the same volume, still slightly afraid of him, and then something hit me. Why did he care so much about me? Why would he care if I cut? It’s not like we’d known each other very long or anything. What was the big deal? I felt a rush of anger. He wasn’t anyone to tell me what to do. As a matter of fact, who was he, a drug addict who was now trying to go back to being sober, to tell me not to do something like this. Before I could control what was coming out of my mouth I said it “Why do you care if I cut? It’s not like we’re friends or anything!” Hard and cold it came flowing out of my mouth like the Nile River. It landed flat in the air, like it was full of lead, it thumped right onto his heart. Hard, cold, steel.
Steel is a combination of different elements. Lead is an element by itself. These are two different things. Your comparisons don’t make sense. Also because the properties of lead aside from weight aren’t important here. Gods, tween!Maria, take a chemistry class.
He stared at me. Shock crossed his face in a flash then it saddened in an amazing amount of time. I could see the hurt.
“Maria, how could you say some-fucking-thing so harsh? I thought that we fucking were friends!” His tone went from disappointed to angry in a matter of seconds. I quickly went from my state of rage back to my extremely frightened feeling. I backed down into the couch trying to disappear. I pushed my bum farther into the couch cushions.
There’s no place like home! There’s no place like home! There’s no place like home! I kept repeating to myself in my head. I was mortified; my heart was pumping so quickly I could feel it in my finger tips. My heart was racing, my palms were sweating, and my thoughts were going every which way.
I once had a professor who forbid us from using the to be verb (in any iteration) in our essays/stories for his class. Easily one of the best pieces of writing advice I ever received, but sadly too late to save this story.
“Gee I didn’t mean that! It wasn’t supposed to sound like that! I really didn’t mean it!” I tried frantically apologizing. Gerard just stared at me. His eyes were cold, hurt and empty. He stared at me I could feel the hatred burning into my skin, almost as if he’d just pressed a hot iron to my face.
“No you meant what you said. I get it! We talk for almost 24 hours and now I’m just some stranger off the street. Just leave me alone.” He said bitterly walking into the bunk area.
I sat there in silence. I slowly remembered a saying I learned in grammar school for music warm ups. ‘…Awaiting the sensation of a short sharp shock . . .’ I had just received a short sharp shock, Gerard telling me that was the short sharp shock. I felt horrible. I stared at the coffee table. I heard rustling coming from one of the bunks, then a body emerged from the complete darkness that I was sitting in. No one had bothered to turn on the lights; I was too shocked to move.
“Maria, is that you?” Lisa asked quietly out of the shadows. She yawned as she stumbled her way over to the couch. Once she landed on the couch she let all of her muscles relax and her leg was in my lap. She isn’t exactly the skinniest person either, which meant she caused me a bit of discomfort.
3. Body shaming.
“Ya Lees, it’s me.” I sighed slowly as I felt my legs go into the beginning stages of falling asleep.
“Why are you up so late? I thought that you and Gerard would be asleep by now.” She spoke through a yawn, while trying to remain awake. I think that she wanted it to sound like an innuendo. The amount of sleep she’d gotten didn’t allow her to suggest that Gerard and I had done dirty things.
Sentences like this hurt the most because I can see my train of thought, but the execution is… well, that of a 12 year old.
“Ha Ha very funny, Lisa.” I gave her my fake amused, while still sarcastic, voice. “No he found out about my . . . erm, problem and got all jumpy, and protective. So you know how I am when people get all protective and whatnot, unless it’s BJ, so I yelled at him and I said a few things that I shouldn’t have…” I trailed off while trying to explain all of this to a girl who had probably tuned me out before I’d started talking. I’m not even sure she was aware of the problem that he had found out about at this moment in time.
“Ria, he likes you! Come on! He wouldn’t just jump up and get all over excited if it was someone he didn’t care for dearly. Just admit that you like him too! And he’ll forgive you for whatever you did. At least I think he will, as far as I know he will.” Lisa sounded slightly unsure about him forgiving me. But who was I to deny or believe what she said? I didn’t know them as well as her. Slowly she stood, using various parts of my body as support for her feeble limbs.
Ria is the worst. Nickname. In. The. World. The worst part? That’s never been my nickname because I’ve never had a nickname.
Also, why was I so fucking rude? Honestly tween!Maria, build other women up don’t tear them down.
“Aren’t you coming?” She asked through a particularly large yawn.
“Where would I sleep?” I was completely baffled by her telling me I should follow her.
“Well . . . Frankie and I share a bunk. They’re fairly large bunks too, umm . . . OH! We have a spare bunk that you could use.”
“Alright thanks, Lisa.” I stood up walking after her. She led me to the bunks where I could see everyone else asleep, except Gerard. His curtains were closed and I could here soft music, as well as humming coming from inside. I walked past as my self conscience yelled “Maria! What are you doing? You should be over there, apologizing your guts out. How could you not? You should have asked that Lisa girl for help! She’s got spunk!” I quickly pushed my conscience out of my mind. I think that I really did need sleep. My conscience was starting to sound like Lisa.
90% sure Lisa wrote this line about herself, because again this is almost 30,000 words of wish fulfillment.
I climbed into the bunk and quickly fell asleep. I awoke the next morning with a few screams, and the bus at a halt. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and walked into the kitchen area. The only person was me and one of my least favorite people today. I sat down and stared at him.
“What? Is there something wrong with me?” He asked touching his face concerned. He was so conceded sometimes.
WHO IS IT? IS IT GERARD? IS IT BILLIE JOE? IS IT A RANDOM THIRD PERSON TO BE NAMED IN THE NEXT PARAGRAPH?!
I hate myself.
“NO nothing on your face anyway.” I said looking up at Frankie. It was his fault that Gerard and I weren’t on speaking terms. I was mad, especially because if Frankie hadn’t put us together trying to get us together then there would be no problem whatsoever!
Umm…ACTUALLY… I’m pretty sure you freaking out and yelling at him and everyone jumping from happy to sad to angry to sad to hurt in 30 seconds is what did it…
But now that he did, boy was I pissed. I just wanted to smack him up side the head a few times but I knew that Lisa would kill me.
“Maria, what’s wrong? What happened? Did Gerard fuck you too hard last night?” He asked a joking tone in his voice. I stared at him. I’m pretty sure if I had stared at him with any more rage he would have spontaneously combusted right then and there. “Wow! What is up your ass?”
“What’s up my ass is the fact that Gerard and I aren’t on speaking terms anymore. All because of you! You’re the one who put us together so we could ‘talk’,” I said pointing my finger at him with every other word.
I just tried to imitate this but it looked like I was pressing an imaginary button, or poking a sleeping bear.
“Talk! Ya right! You wanted us to get together! You wanted us to be like you and Lisa! Well sorry, but because of that little stunt I don’t know if we’ll ever be together! Ever!” I added the ever for emphasis.
Pretty sure we got that, but thanks for clarifying for those of us who can’t read.
With that I stormed out of the bus passing a very confused Mikey and a rather depressed Gerard. I walked over to our bus and flopped on the couch without even noticing Mike sitting there reading.
“Ow! Maria! What did I ever do to you?” He asked pushing me off of him.
“Ow! Now you hurt me Mr. Mike Dirnt!” I said sitting on the floor facing Mike.
“Why were you so distracted that you didn’t even see poor little me on the couch?” Mike asked putting down the book.
“Well, Gerard found out about my ‘problem’ and he got all overprotective and I didn’t see what the big deal was. So then I said that I didn’t think that we were friends and well . . . we haven’t spoken since. And the only reason that it happened was because Frank put us in the stupid room to talk! It’s his entire fault because he wanted us to be together!” I said looking at Mike expectantly. Mike turned to me and looked confused.
“Well actually it’s not Frankie’s fault,” Mike said stroking his chin. “I mean he’s not the one who made you talk to Gerard. You could have left the bus at any time. And he’s not the one who made you do whatever you did to make Gerard find out. So technically it’s your fault. I think that you should apologize to Gerard.” Mike said ending what most would think a big brother worthy speech. I sat there and absorbed every word that he said. “He makes sense you know.” My conscience said.
At least I wrote in someone with some common sense.
Tune in next week for another installment where Gerard surprises me in the worst way possible, and where you learn that apparently time and space work differently in this story than in the real world. But you already knew that.