glitter-gulch

Chapter Twenty Seven. As soon as Frank was back at school, Gerard found himself falling back into old habits. Some days he would do nothing but stay indoors and sleep, simply because he felt he needed to. If he thought too much, he was sure he would go crazy. Other days when his mind was clearer, he'd sit at his desk with his sketchbook. Having something to show for his day made him feel a lot better. Too often when Frank would come over, he'd tell him all about his day at school, and Gerard would have nothing to tell him in return except that he'd slept through most of it. One morning when he felt particularly good, however, unusually aler

Chapter Twenty Six. The thing Gerard remembered most about that summer was the grass tickling his neck. He was pretty sure he spent more time lying on lawns than he did upright, just lying there and squinting to avoid the sun. Frank was always beside him, usually on his front with his head resting on his hands. Sometimes he'd read books, but most of the time he'd just try to read Gerard. He couldn't understand how the older boy could stand to lie outside in the heat for hours, since he was usually only ever dressed in various shades of black or dark blue, and nearly always securely zipped up in a jacket of some sort. Everything about his ap

Chapter Twenty Five. Paint dripped off the brush and landed in a dollop by his foot. Gerard leant down and scooped up the light green with his finger, wiped it on another old sheet and went back to staring at his bedroom wall. He wasn't sure he liked the colour, but it was different. The paint fumes were intoxicating, and somehow he thought that decorating his tired bedroom would help ease his grief. Setting the brush on the paint lid, he sighed. He sat down on his bed and examined the paint-stained t-shirt he was wearing; two days of hard desperation smeared onto one piece of fabric. He tugged at it before clutching at his side, at the sha

Chapter Twenty Four. As Gerard replayed the night's events in his mind, he could feel blood pumping through his veins. For the first time, he could feel the satisfaction of a deep breath, and even in just that one second where he recalled the warmth of another's hands on his bare skin, he'd felt more alive and like himself than he had the entire past year. It had caught him off guard, to say the least. It felt so downright odd to feel so alive that he simply didn't know how to handle it. He regretted freaking out in the way he had though, just leaving Frank feeling confused. He hadn't meant for that, but he hadn't felt for so long, hadn't e

Two: Numb It was the same every night. Instead of actually having a life, I'd obsess over Frank, obsess over someone I could never have, someone who didn't even exist. That was the most depressing part; he didn't even exist. He was a persistent regular in my dreams, but I had no idea where he came from. I didn't know him, had never met him, and as far as I was concerned, I'd never seen him before in my life. Never seen him, until he began appearing in my dreams almost every night… I wondered if I simply craved him, made him up in my mind as a way of filling some void in my chest. Mikey left just after seven, leaving me with the remain

One: Skin "Hey, sleepy," he greeted softly from the doorway. I lifted my gaze to meet his, and he smiled broadly. "I got you some breakfast. Scrambled eggs and toast, just how you like them." I lifted myself up from the bed covers and ran a hand over my face. My whole body felt so refreshed I could hardly believe it. Golden sun shone bright through the lightweight muslin curtains, dressing the scene in an ethereal light; the perfect setting, the perfect moment to spend with him. The usually off-white walls were tinted with patches of golden yellows. It was a summer's morning, I guessed, though I couldn't see past the curtains. As he drifted