This thing I wrote
Here's the thing - right now I should be writing two essays and a 2,000 word short story for my uni course but I really can't be bothered (despite the bribe of a very nice bottle of whiskey for free if I get it done today). So I'm going to try my hand at some of this free-form writing malarky.
Here goes nothing (please note that there's some shameless stealing going on here - Someone: not only are you the only person who understands the mess that is my head, you're also the only person who's going to understand the pure bollocks that's about to come out of my fingers through the keyboard. Thank you, <3 you!)
Gerard loves Mikey, and together they save the world! (Oh, and Mikey loves Gerard too!)
One morning Mikey woke up to find that he had inadvertantly caused the stapler on his brother's desk to attack a stack of notebooks and sketchbooks while he himself had been having a nightmare about being trapped, tied to the bottom of the pier that was about to be flooded. This was not exactly an unusual occurence, however he thought Gerard might be a bit pissed if he took his books to school and couldn't get the pages open. So in the, aproximately, five minutes he had before Gerard woke up and started groaning at Mikey to bring him coffee, he set about trying to convert the stapler into a de-stapling machine.
~
By the time Gerard woke up Mikey was halfway dressed and yawning something about coffee at him. He threw his head back under the pillow and missed the mumbled, "Sorry about your books," that Mikey tossed out on his way to the kitchen. Upon dragging himself out of bed (and it was a propper dragging motion, he pretended that someone *cough*Mikey*cough* had ahold of his legs and was pulling him out of the bed - the only conceivable way to get up on a cold and wet morning such as this morning) he was handed a steaming mug before he'd even fully opened his eyes. This was always sign of a guilty conscience so Gerard blindly grabbed Mikey's wrist and tugged until he stopped trying to get away.
"What did you do?" He asked deadpan.
"I, um - I brought you coffee?"
Gerard peeled his eyes further open in order to squint at his brother, "What did you do, Mikey?"
"I fixed it. I'm sorry," Mikey looked sheepish, "I stuck your books together, but then I unstuck them."
With a grunt, Gerard let go - his brother immediately running for the kitchen again and Mom's protection - then hauled himself up and got dressed for school. Some days he took a few minutes to think about what to wear, today was not one of those days. And anyway, he rationalised, I always end up wearing a black tee and jeans no matter how hard I think about it. Dressed, he stomped his way down the stairs and into the kitchen, thunking his empty mug on the table and his ass on a seat, where he waited patiently for the apologetic refill he knew Mikey would get around to just as soon as he realised that Gerard was there.
~
On the way to school, Mikey couldn't stop thinking about how Gerard would be going off to some far away college soon and he'd be walking alone this time next year, and for another two years after that. He tried desperately - always tried, though it rarely worked - to keep his mind off the fact that he'd be doing everything alone soon. Well, not alone - he had his friends and parents and other family - but it wasn't the same. They weren't mages. They didn't really get it in the same way that Gerard did. He couldn't explain that inate sense of powerfearlustangerpower that crept over him when he made something intentionally.
Mikey had joked to Gerard that he would, "...build a shrink ray and make myself pocket-sized so that you can take me to college and keep me around always. And! And, I'll make a reverse shrink ray so that at night you can make me human-sized again and we can watch movies and talk about comics and just, you know, everything!" But Gerard had only laughed, because it was a joke, and Mikey wasn't serious.
~
At school Gerard noticed the small holes all over his books and made a mental note to ask his annoying little brother about it at lunch. He made his way through the morning in the same way he did every day at school, auto-pilot. It was only when he got to history at the end of the day that he'd bother to wake up. On a Monday history was his one interesting class, the rest were catch-up on the weekend's lost sleep. He tried hard to remind himself of this fact every time someone nudged him awake or a teacher gave his an angry stare. It's only fucking school, keep your panties on, he thought at Mr Twigg - a little too hard because Twigg gave him detention for swearing in class.
~
Mikey had woodshop first thing on a Monday so, naturally, he skipped it and sat out at the far edge of the football field, right under the line of trees there in the hopes that no-one would spot him. Woodshop was Mikey's least favourite class for two reasons; one, it involved lots of wood which was completely immune to his magic; two, it also involved lots of power tools which he had been banned from even being in the same room with at the tender age of five when he had accidentally switched on a nailgun from the doorway (it was lying on his Dad's workbench, ten feet away) and made it fire in a beautiful arch shape across the entire room. Nothing like this had happened again, but Mikey had been very wary of power tools ever since and didn't like to mess with them unless he had any other options. Like sitting under a tree in a lightning storm and watching the rain pound down into the field ahead of him, whilst remaining entirely dry and safe thanks to a little handy-work with the radio him Mom had sewn inside of his coat a few months earlier. It looked more like a minature tent with a cool in-built stereo right now.
Happily tapping along to a Misfits tune with his eyes closed, he didn't spot Mrs Franks until it was too late.
"Michael Way, where are you supposed to be right now?"
Mikey's eyes opened far to wide, in a comical surprised expression, and he grabbed at the first words that came to his lips, "In my nice warm bed?"
~
"Hey bro." Gerard greeted his brother.
"Hi," Mikey replied, "What are you in for?"
"Swearing at Twigg. You?"
"Talking back to Franks."
Mikey slouched down into his seat and discreetly offered Gerard his banana under the table, Gerard quickly traded it for an oatbar. They spent the rest of the lunch 45 minutes (schools cheat kids out of that remaining 15 minutes!) passing notes back and forth. Mostly Gerard's doodles and Mikey's "that's awesome!" and "more zombies!" notes beside them.
TBC....