Give Me All Your Poison

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Give Me All Your Poison

Post by Wolfy on Sun Apr 13, 2014 7:58 pm

Another short fic! I hope you like it. I promised myself I wasn't going to return to all that alcohol addiction Gerard had, but this idea was pushy, so I caved and wrote it. I have nothing but love for this man and would never intentionally pick at his problems. I hope this piece evades all other sites. I really would hate for him to see any of this.

———

Some days were beyond tough and no matter how hard you tried to make the most of them, your efforts were always in vain. Art school was no easy feat, no matter who you were or what you thought you knew. There was always something else to learn and though you struggled and stressed every day to make ends meet, one way or another, a minor or major setback would occur and you were powerless to stop it. Such is life, as many would claim. These are the ways of the world and though unfortunate problems kept us alert and gave us something to do, they weren't half draining.

There was this guy in my class and we were around the same age, more or less. I was 24 and he was pushing 25; we had only ever spoken briefly during lessons. Only ever to discuss different materials or which workspace we would be using on a given day. I wouldn't call us friends, due to the severe lack of bonding time, but we had an enormous amount of respect for one another and left it at that. But sometimes, there was something very different about him and the way in which he carried himself. I'd been inspecting everything for a few weeks now. His attitude had changed some. His moods changes were so dramatic, I would have believed him to be suffering menopause if it were possible. He was not like this before, that I knew very well. He was usually happy, carefree and content.

Today, he had been grumbling all kinds of things, half of which I hadn't been able to understand, but I was under the impression he had been dealing with some kind of trauma for a while now. In his eyes, you could see clear as day just how much of a struggle he was enduring. I wondered how long this had been going on; whether or not he had been dealing with this the whole time I'd known him and was just really good at hiding it from other people. It wouldn't surprise me. I'd known a few like him back in high school and though they were often told things would get better, they didn't understand. It was very hard to believe improvements could come, if you thought your life was so awful. I knew; I'd been there myself many, many times over the years but hadn't welcomed the feeling in a long time. I didn't ever plan on digging myself into such a deep, dark hole again and was more than determined to help those around me who seemed to be suffering a similar kind of fate.

“Hey...” I began, only to be interrupted by his sudden bounce off of his stool and fleeing self as he sped toward the class door and right out into the hallway, his bag on his back.

Our tutor was silent, as were the rest of the students. No one knew how to react to the situation, but I had grown accustom to it. Maybe not with him, but with others I had known. Though it would seem very odd and out of place for me to raise my hand and ask to be excused, I did so, fearing that guys sanity just wasn't going to hold out much longer and I didn't want that on my conscious.

Being that our tutor was a middle aged woman and had no doubt come across moments like these often, she understood both his sudden exit and my need to tag along and find out what was wrong. It wasn't the norm for tutors to allow their students access to hallways during educational hours, but as this was one step further than university, we were all free to roam as and when, so long as we knew our limits and that learning was the only way we would achieve anything. We were all older, wiser and generally more understanding of these rules, so none were ever broken.

I raced out of the class with my own bag over my back and glanced both ways once I reached the top of hall, not sure where he had gone, or even why. I had an inkling, but they were never too reliant as far as good judgement calls went. If he was far from on the mend, I had to hurry and find him before he did anything he might one day regret. I'd done many foolish things over the years and boy, didn't I now wish I hadn't. It was always so hard to see sense when you felt your whole world come crashing down and realising you were too powerless to stop it.

My feet carried me down the extended hallway and I peered into every room I rushed by, just in case he had chosen to sit in on another class and avoid the familiarity he saw every day. I understood that plenty. Sometimes, the same old scenery could grind you down so much, you wanted out. I snapped my head from side to side, but couldn't spot him anywhere. Finally reaching the end of the hallway, after having run down several staircases without actually tripping and landing on my face, I pushed through the double doors and was met with a cool summer breeze.

For a moment, all I did was stand there and smile. Nothing huge that took over my face, but a minute, peaceful smile as the scent of daffodils blew on by in the light wind. My hair, loose and tame for once, flew up at the ends and framed my face as it did so. But then, all was ruined by the foul smell of nicotine and alcohol. My attention returned and I rounded the corner, only to find that guy, his ebony hair almost touching his shoulders and his hazel eyes shining beneath the sun, though it wasn't out very long. Clouds loomed overhead, blanketing the grounds in a soft shadow. Noticing me, he turned his head slightly and focused on my face for a minute or two. All he did was grunt. Obviously, he was in no mood for idle chitchat or anything even remotely deep and dissecting. I gave him that one. I had never much liked to rattle on about my feelings with those I didn't know very well.

But I had that on my side, or so I thought. We did actually know little bits about one another and though it wasn't enough to warrant crystal clear friendship, I figured it would be enough for him to trust me. Perhaps he wasn't the trusting type; or even vice versa.

“You know—“ he spoke up, finally, not having heard him say anything in over one week had left me feeling icky and confused. “People talk a lot of bull when they don't know what to do with a situation. They make up all this crap in the hope that the one they're trying to rescue, will actually magically feel better, as if their words have been a blessing or cure from God. It's all so trivial.”

I swallowed, not having realised a lump had formed in my throat as he spoke. His voice was smooth and calm, but the expression on his face indicated he was miles away from either of those. He looked about ready to jump off a building; with his bottle of vodka held tightly in one hand, his cigarette hanging loosely from the other. As he rose it to his lips and took a deep drag, I had to avert my eyes as I took a step closer, then another. I continued like this until I was right in front of him, maybe a foot or so away to give him at least a little room to breathe. He followed the inhalation with an extraordinarily long swig of vodka and my stomach churned at the sight.

“I know we don't know one another all that well..” I began, shuffling forward and taking a seat opposite him and pulling my legs in so I was cross-legged. My bag sat neatly beside me and I noticed his did the same. “And I know people like to tell those who are suffering that they understand all they're going through.. and how half the time, it's nothing but garbage. But, I really do know how you feel. I went through a really rough time in high school and my body didn't half pay for it. I lost the will to live.. more times than I dare to remember, but life goes on and we can either choose to suck it up and strive for something better, or just give up and call it quits.”

He looked up at me then, a little unsure but somehow approving of my retort and the nerve I had in me. I didn't suppose many people had dared approach him with anything like that before. It didn't seem to me as though he was used to bonding over similarities, especially when they were of such a depressing nature. It took him by surprise; I could see that in his eyes when he looked right at me. There was no smile or indication to suggest what I'd told him had made anything better, but I never intended for it to do so. I merely wanted to share my own experience in the hope that maybe, we could get that little bit closer, with that level of understanding, and I could help.

“What's your name?” he asked, after a few moments of silence; his gaze still fixed on me.

“Helena—“ I offered a warm smile, reaching my hand out and leaning forward some to meet him halfway, as he did the same.

“Gerard..” he returned my smile and I immediately relaxed, all signs of tension disappearing.

It took me a second to process that name, but once I had, the smile lingered a while longer than it should have. It could have also been due to the fact that our hands were still joined. A tingle of heat spread over my cheeks and nose, but I found myself breathing normally. My heart was not racing, as would be normal for such a situation. I must have been plenty comfortable around him.

“You could stop, you know. You could just dump everything and leave it all behind you.. it's not as difficult as it looks” I bravely stated.

“You're right—“ he sighed, setting the bottle down beside him and sliding it just a little bit further away so he could no longer reach it. The cigarette, he stubbed out on the concrete just beside his foot. “No point.. really no fuckin' point.”

I watched him with curiosity, in silence, not daring to utter a single word after our exchange in fear that anything could bring him crashing back down again. But it didn't seem likely. The smile he had returned before, with some difficulty, was now plastered on his face without any trouble at all. The sun returned from its holiday behind the clouds and they soon faded. We were left only with a baby blue sky, cotton ball clouds of all shapes and sizes and a full, bright sun. This was the height of summer; too bad we were stuck on school grounds and unable to venture into any fields.

“Come on, kid” he called, after picking up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder and starting back toward the building. I had been so pre-occupied staring dreamily at the sky and our surroundings, I hadn't even noticed him get up to leave. “Class is over in about five— you wanna go grab a coffee?”

I took his words into consideration. Leaving the grounds with him, though we did know a fair bit more about each other now and had, somehow in a limited amount of time, felt that rush of untainted understanding, seemed unusual and out of character for me. But to object now, well, that didn't seem like a very spontaneous thing to do and I was all about living life to the fullest these days.

“Yea.. sure” I nodded, flashing him a toothy grin as one of his hands settled in the pocket of his jeans and the other, I noted, was held out for me. My inner child flailed and that blush returned, only this time, my heart rate did increase and I tripped as I stumbled over to him. All he did was smile fondly at me, his hand cupping mine as we crossed the grass and out through the obscenely yellow gates.

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Wolfy

Posts : 134
Join date : 2013-08-22
Age : 26
Location : Graceland

http://emlynbowen.tumblr.com

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