Cut.[Standalone/re-written]
Title: Cut. [Standalone]
Author: posion_lips1
Pairing: Frank/Gerard.
POV: Gerard.
Summary: Then I placed the blade next to the skin on my palm. A tingle arced across my scalps. The blood tipped up at me and my body spiraled away. Then I was on the ceiling looking down, waiting to see what would happen next…-From the book Cut, Gerard is in a Mental Institution for cutting himself. He's not going to speak. But he has one interesting therapist.
Rating: PG-13/R.
Disclaimer: This is as fake as my hair.
Author Notes: This is based on the book Cut by Patricia McCormick.
Oh! And I wrote this like…two months ago? And I re-wrote it ‘cause it was so poorly written. I hope this one is a lot better.
You sat there, looking at me, like you always do. Your looks scare me at times. Your eyes shin over my pale face and you smile with that notebook you held like it was your first born baby. Sometimes I wonder if you have a baby, or maybe even a wife. Who knows, right? Maybe you’re gay.
I know you want me to ask you these questions, sometimes you come in saying 'Sorry,' and then you breathe, shakes in your holding, sorrow breath. But I somehow kept my mouth quiet like I have been for the past three months I've been in here. Everyday I would waste your time as you sat there, smiling. Honestly, I'm scared of you. I'm scared of everything in this place. Everyone is so happy all the time, and they make it out like everything is alright, when we all know it's not.
"Gerard," you said moving in your chair a little, like you want to get out of here, I wouldn't blame you, I would want to, too. I do want to get out of here. I dare not speak.
"Gerard," You repeated. "You like art, right?" You ask this question all the time, you’re expecting me to say "Yes! I love it!" Like I know I should, I lost my voice from all this time I've been in here. I know after this I'm going to really need therapy.
You look at me, again. Your eyes shine in my face. Your crystals are beautiful. Your eyes are the amazing color of brown and green. Hazel.
If I cut you down to a thing I can use.
I fear there will be nothing good left of you.
You're still waiting for my answer. I still don't dare to speak. So now, I sit here and I'm counting how many people pass by. One is holding a little teddy bear, probably for one of the bipolar little kids who got sent in here from one of the rich parents. Another good five minutes later a girl with a big card that says 'Welcome Home!' on it. Like this person is getting out today. Another person comes at the doors in about twenty minutes later. I think it was a doctor, she had the same uniform as you, but your uniform seems to fit you so well you make it look beautiful.
No one ever comes to visit me here, I think my family are too scared to come and see me here like this in a violent mess. A violent mess is what I've become, I've become so disgusting and filthy I feel like vomiting every single night I'm here in this Godforsaking place. But still, no matter how many times I'm vomit myself to sleep no one seems to come and find me, little did my family know that this place was making it harder and harder to breathe. People ask me all the time(doctors, that is), "Where's your mother, Gerard?" I just continue to look out the window, I don't want to remember her, I don't want to think of her, her thoughts make me want to bawl out crying, but I dare not to. I know the day I crack will be the day their satisfied, their happy, mission complete. You've made Gerard Arthur Way cry his eyes out. I'm not going to let you get there. But, you seem to never ask things like that, like you know what it does to me. It's like you can read my mind and you can tell what I'm thinking. You speak for the both of us, anyway.
"Times up, Gerard." You called out into the stale silence. You made my head pop up from my silent thoughts. Sometimes I wish they were screaming, maybe if they were screaming, you'll hear them, so you'll be happy, also. I get up quickly and wait at the door for you to bring me to the lunch room. You get up in a slow motion and you put your hair behind your face. At some moment I swear I saw a tattoo. Was that even legal? To be a therapist and have a tattoo? On your neck? Maybe that's another question I'd have to ask you once I find my voice again.
You're smaller then me. Both height and weight wise. You have a small, tiny frame and you can't be more then 5'4''. Your skin is a tan looking color, not like the other doctors here, they usually have a odd, fake looking tan. But yours, yours looks real, like you didn't mean it for it to happen, you were just outside for too long and it just happened.
Once we get to the lunch room we go and I get a small cereal and a bottle of water. I'm not one of the anorexics or bulimics here, so I can eat how little I would like. But at times I wish I was bulimic, I know you'll hear about that later on. We reach a table and you sit across from me. Your eyes are looking into me. My long black hair falls into my face, making it into one.
"Gerard," you said again, I think you just love to say my name, that's all what you seem to say to me. Unless you're just waiting for me to crack and go 'Will you ask me something else, already?! What's your name?!' But I don't, I once again stay silent. I lost my voice, I don't think it's coming back, they said once I start talking and telling you about my problems I will be out of here in no time.
I've never learned your name, even after seeing your face for the past three months, their not supposed to tell you their names unless you ask them what's their name. I still don't know your name, for I haven’t spoken, yet.
"Well, since you're not going to talk, I guess I'll tell you about myself, huh?" You say to me, giving me a look as I look up at you. I feel small right now, I hate being treated like a little boy. I'm not a little boy. I'm grown, but here you're eleven years old, waiting for mommy to come and pick you up at school.
"I've lived in New Jersey my whole life, I'm twenty-four years old and I'm not a full doctor, yet. I didn't really want to fall into this job, but my parents' wanted me to. I always wanted to be into music or something amazing like that. I wish you would tell me about yourself, I bet there's a lot of interesting thoughts in your head." You say to me. I'm a little shocked, actually. But I don't show the emotion, but I'm thinking it right now. You actually seem interesting. I play with the hem on my pajama shirt. It's blue. Your uniform is white and blue. Your shirt is a baby blue, and you got plan white pants with ugly shoes.
I think from being in here for so long and not speaking, and only seeing your face basically everyday, I've become gay. I see the girls around in this place, some of them are addicted to sex so they dress like hoes to try to get with the doctors. Their skirts are high and their face is full of makeup, but I seem to not be interested. Yes, I've been called over to a girl trying to get with me, I just looked at her and walked away slowly. But when I see you, your face seems to make my day. You're so beautiful I think I'm lost in your features. I don't need to be all confused I'm just in wonder of what I am. I think I'm gay, actually. I wouldn't mind to kiss your pink lips. You're a lot older then me, I guess. You're twenty-four and I'm eighteen years old, it won't be illegal, but it would still be weird for you, I guess. You're probably not even gay. You're to perfect to be gay. It's like, I've fallen in love with you, I don't even know your name. You’re a perfect stranger and you've seem to make me a little more alive then I am.
Blame it on me
set your guilt free
nothing can hold you back now
I don't think I've ever thought of someone this much, then you. You've came into my mind and my life and oh God how I wish you can read my thoughts, so you can stop wondering if I will ever talk, again. I wish you can read my thoughts so I can know your name, I want, I need to know your name, I think it's Beautiful, it suits you well to me.
Later on in the day we go outside into the courtyard. You're smoking a cigarette, I want one in the worst way. You just keep looking out in the sky. It's almost night time and I really shouldn't be out here. But you treat me like your best friend when in no time you're never going to see me ever again. You said you love to be around me, even when I don't talk. You said you like it when you don't have to explain everything. I don't have to explain anything to you. Soon enough, the blue sky is gone and it's replaced by a beautiful orange or a red. But it's beautiful, no name, no color, just beauty.
"Isn't it beautiful, Gerard?" You said to me, not taking your eyes off the sky. I wanted to scream right now I wanted to scream "No! You're beautiful!" Now my thoughts are screaming at me and my lips are shaking. I want you so badly. I want to kiss you in the worst way. I want to cry but I don't. Now I know what I'm feeling, I'm having my urge to hurt myself, again. I'm snapping at my rubber bands they gave me to stop myself from making me bleed. I know you can hear me do this. I'm doing it in a violent motion. You turn your head and you see me.
"Gerard, I'm sorry, I didn't know it had that effect on you." You told me getting up. Now you're looking into my eyes, trying to find something that you'll never find. My eyes are still on my wrist, the red is coming up and I want to snap again, so I do. I snap, I keep on snapping. Soon, you get up and you leave. My mind screams, again. Snapping so hard I think I'm going to break skin. I want you to stay, I want you.
You turn around and see me ready to tear. You don't rush to hug me and tell me everything is okay. You come up to my eyes and you put out your hand, ready for me to shake it.
"Hi, Gerard, my name is Frank" You smile at the words you've chosen. My face comes up to yours. My life lifts up. I stop my snapping.
"Hi, Frank"
You smile and kiss my lips.
And all what I needed was your name…
-----
Yeye! I re-written it ‘cause I like the idea but it was SO badly written, so I re-wrote it! :D! I thought it was cute. :D!
The lyrics are from Evanescence, two mixes of songs.
I hope you liked it!
Author: posion_lips1
Pairing: Frank/Gerard.
POV: Gerard.
Summary: Then I placed the blade next to the skin on my palm. A tingle arced across my scalps. The blood tipped up at me and my body spiraled away. Then I was on the ceiling looking down, waiting to see what would happen next…-From the book Cut, Gerard is in a Mental Institution for cutting himself. He's not going to speak. But he has one interesting therapist.
Rating: PG-13/R.
Disclaimer: This is as fake as my hair.
Author Notes: This is based on the book Cut by Patricia McCormick.
Oh! And I wrote this like…two months ago? And I re-wrote it ‘cause it was so poorly written. I hope this one is a lot better.
You sat there, looking at me, like you always do. Your looks scare me at times. Your eyes shin over my pale face and you smile with that notebook you held like it was your first born baby. Sometimes I wonder if you have a baby, or maybe even a wife. Who knows, right? Maybe you’re gay.
I know you want me to ask you these questions, sometimes you come in saying 'Sorry,' and then you breathe, shakes in your holding, sorrow breath. But I somehow kept my mouth quiet like I have been for the past three months I've been in here. Everyday I would waste your time as you sat there, smiling. Honestly, I'm scared of you. I'm scared of everything in this place. Everyone is so happy all the time, and they make it out like everything is alright, when we all know it's not.
"Gerard," you said moving in your chair a little, like you want to get out of here, I wouldn't blame you, I would want to, too. I do want to get out of here. I dare not speak.
"Gerard," You repeated. "You like art, right?" You ask this question all the time, you’re expecting me to say "Yes! I love it!" Like I know I should, I lost my voice from all this time I've been in here. I know after this I'm going to really need therapy.
You look at me, again. Your eyes shine in my face. Your crystals are beautiful. Your eyes are the amazing color of brown and green. Hazel.
If I cut you down to a thing I can use.
I fear there will be nothing good left of you.
You're still waiting for my answer. I still don't dare to speak. So now, I sit here and I'm counting how many people pass by. One is holding a little teddy bear, probably for one of the bipolar little kids who got sent in here from one of the rich parents. Another good five minutes later a girl with a big card that says 'Welcome Home!' on it. Like this person is getting out today. Another person comes at the doors in about twenty minutes later. I think it was a doctor, she had the same uniform as you, but your uniform seems to fit you so well you make it look beautiful.
No one ever comes to visit me here, I think my family are too scared to come and see me here like this in a violent mess. A violent mess is what I've become, I've become so disgusting and filthy I feel like vomiting every single night I'm here in this Godforsaking place. But still, no matter how many times I'm vomit myself to sleep no one seems to come and find me, little did my family know that this place was making it harder and harder to breathe. People ask me all the time(doctors, that is), "Where's your mother, Gerard?" I just continue to look out the window, I don't want to remember her, I don't want to think of her, her thoughts make me want to bawl out crying, but I dare not to. I know the day I crack will be the day their satisfied, their happy, mission complete. You've made Gerard Arthur Way cry his eyes out. I'm not going to let you get there. But, you seem to never ask things like that, like you know what it does to me. It's like you can read my mind and you can tell what I'm thinking. You speak for the both of us, anyway.
"Times up, Gerard." You called out into the stale silence. You made my head pop up from my silent thoughts. Sometimes I wish they were screaming, maybe if they were screaming, you'll hear them, so you'll be happy, also. I get up quickly and wait at the door for you to bring me to the lunch room. You get up in a slow motion and you put your hair behind your face. At some moment I swear I saw a tattoo. Was that even legal? To be a therapist and have a tattoo? On your neck? Maybe that's another question I'd have to ask you once I find my voice again.
You're smaller then me. Both height and weight wise. You have a small, tiny frame and you can't be more then 5'4''. Your skin is a tan looking color, not like the other doctors here, they usually have a odd, fake looking tan. But yours, yours looks real, like you didn't mean it for it to happen, you were just outside for too long and it just happened.
Once we get to the lunch room we go and I get a small cereal and a bottle of water. I'm not one of the anorexics or bulimics here, so I can eat how little I would like. But at times I wish I was bulimic, I know you'll hear about that later on. We reach a table and you sit across from me. Your eyes are looking into me. My long black hair falls into my face, making it into one.
"Gerard," you said again, I think you just love to say my name, that's all what you seem to say to me. Unless you're just waiting for me to crack and go 'Will you ask me something else, already?! What's your name?!' But I don't, I once again stay silent. I lost my voice, I don't think it's coming back, they said once I start talking and telling you about my problems I will be out of here in no time.
I've never learned your name, even after seeing your face for the past three months, their not supposed to tell you their names unless you ask them what's their name. I still don't know your name, for I haven’t spoken, yet.
"Well, since you're not going to talk, I guess I'll tell you about myself, huh?" You say to me, giving me a look as I look up at you. I feel small right now, I hate being treated like a little boy. I'm not a little boy. I'm grown, but here you're eleven years old, waiting for mommy to come and pick you up at school.
"I've lived in New Jersey my whole life, I'm twenty-four years old and I'm not a full doctor, yet. I didn't really want to fall into this job, but my parents' wanted me to. I always wanted to be into music or something amazing like that. I wish you would tell me about yourself, I bet there's a lot of interesting thoughts in your head." You say to me. I'm a little shocked, actually. But I don't show the emotion, but I'm thinking it right now. You actually seem interesting. I play with the hem on my pajama shirt. It's blue. Your uniform is white and blue. Your shirt is a baby blue, and you got plan white pants with ugly shoes.
I think from being in here for so long and not speaking, and only seeing your face basically everyday, I've become gay. I see the girls around in this place, some of them are addicted to sex so they dress like hoes to try to get with the doctors. Their skirts are high and their face is full of makeup, but I seem to not be interested. Yes, I've been called over to a girl trying to get with me, I just looked at her and walked away slowly. But when I see you, your face seems to make my day. You're so beautiful I think I'm lost in your features. I don't need to be all confused I'm just in wonder of what I am. I think I'm gay, actually. I wouldn't mind to kiss your pink lips. You're a lot older then me, I guess. You're twenty-four and I'm eighteen years old, it won't be illegal, but it would still be weird for you, I guess. You're probably not even gay. You're to perfect to be gay. It's like, I've fallen in love with you, I don't even know your name. You’re a perfect stranger and you've seem to make me a little more alive then I am.
Blame it on me
set your guilt free
nothing can hold you back now
I don't think I've ever thought of someone this much, then you. You've came into my mind and my life and oh God how I wish you can read my thoughts, so you can stop wondering if I will ever talk, again. I wish you can read my thoughts so I can know your name, I want, I need to know your name, I think it's Beautiful, it suits you well to me.
Later on in the day we go outside into the courtyard. You're smoking a cigarette, I want one in the worst way. You just keep looking out in the sky. It's almost night time and I really shouldn't be out here. But you treat me like your best friend when in no time you're never going to see me ever again. You said you love to be around me, even when I don't talk. You said you like it when you don't have to explain everything. I don't have to explain anything to you. Soon enough, the blue sky is gone and it's replaced by a beautiful orange or a red. But it's beautiful, no name, no color, just beauty.
"Isn't it beautiful, Gerard?" You said to me, not taking your eyes off the sky. I wanted to scream right now I wanted to scream "No! You're beautiful!" Now my thoughts are screaming at me and my lips are shaking. I want you so badly. I want to kiss you in the worst way. I want to cry but I don't. Now I know what I'm feeling, I'm having my urge to hurt myself, again. I'm snapping at my rubber bands they gave me to stop myself from making me bleed. I know you can hear me do this. I'm doing it in a violent motion. You turn your head and you see me.
"Gerard, I'm sorry, I didn't know it had that effect on you." You told me getting up. Now you're looking into my eyes, trying to find something that you'll never find. My eyes are still on my wrist, the red is coming up and I want to snap again, so I do. I snap, I keep on snapping. Soon, you get up and you leave. My mind screams, again. Snapping so hard I think I'm going to break skin. I want you to stay, I want you.
You turn around and see me ready to tear. You don't rush to hug me and tell me everything is okay. You come up to my eyes and you put out your hand, ready for me to shake it.
"Hi, Gerard, my name is Frank" You smile at the words you've chosen. My face comes up to yours. My life lifts up. I stop my snapping.
"Hi, Frank"
You smile and kiss my lips.
And all what I needed was your name…
-----
Yeye! I re-written it ‘cause I like the idea but it was SO badly written, so I re-wrote it! :D! I thought it was cute. :D!
The lyrics are from Evanescence, two mixes of songs.
I hope you liked it!