Part Nine
   Masterpost

   Author's Ramblings: Hello Livejournalers, it's been far too long since I updated properly. Hope you're enjoying the masterpost, I thought you might like it. Anyways, I have some news. Decay is gonna end after the twentieth part. Then that's it. No more :( Maybe a few extras to be finished or tided, but then we're done. It shall be a sad day, but all things must end. Okay, got that out of the way. Right, so all that's left to say is that we spent a while on this, even though it's not that long, but we like it. Enjoy guys!!

   P.S. Dedicated to our newest, and last, sister to join our little family. Hope you like yourself honey, I tried :) 

   Authors: conversekilljoy and mothertruckin

   Pairings: Ryden, Frerard, Joncer, Peterick, Gabilliam (students, unsure of any others)

   P.O.V: Switches throughout, 1st.

   Disclaimer: No characters are owned by us, not ours blah blah blah... (I wish)

   Summary: The Decay Academy for Boys is no ordinary place. The teachers are sometimes more like kids, the boys learn about music in EVERY lesson, and some of the teachers have also been hiding a few secrets...

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Jon’s P.O.V.

   “Jon. Oh Jon…” The voice is so rough, yet so, so wonderful. Through the trees, I see a white horse, with Spencer riding it (not in the sexual sense… EW), a red silk robe dancing around his legs, just teasing my imagination. I almost trip over the roots on the forest floor, blinded by the light which seems to be emanating from Spencer, making me dizzy.                    

   After I pick myself up for the third time, the horse and Spencer appear right in front of me, all glory and bitch. “Wha-“ I try to say, but he leans down and puts a finger over my lips to silence me. “Shh. I have to tell you something.” I hush up, and just stare at this man. This man with his silk robe, his amazing blue eyes, his wings. He offers me a hand, and I jump onto the horse, shuffling a little.

   Suddenly Spencer is facing me, and I-

   Wait. Wings?

   Okay.

   He smiles, and strokes my face for a second before pulling me in violently. I feel his lips tickle my ear as he breathes, and I wait for what he has to tell me. After a moment, Spencer’s breathe stops.

   “WAKE UP!”

   “Whatthefuck!?!” I flail wildly, my arms all over the place. What the hell was that?! I mean, what, why, what the fuck? I whip my head around on the pillow to see one Spencer Smith, eyebrow cocked, looking slightly bemused, elbow holding his head up on the pillow. Oh. Well, what else did I expect?

   “You okay there, Jon?” The attractive bitch whom I share my bed with casually asks, very well knowing that I hate being woken during my dreams. Especially that dream. He knows I have a thing for silk. Twat. “What Spence? I’m tired, I want to sleeeep!” Smirk. Ugh, why do I live with this?

   Spencer smiles and shifts a little under the sheets. “Well, there is something I forgot to mention to you at the parent’s meet last week. Just a small, small detail.” He makes a tiny gap with his thumb and index finger, mouthing ‘small’ and closing one eye, his brow crinkling in the most adorable way.

   He’s up to some shit.

   “Spencer, could this not have waited I’d woken up? Not,” I glance at the clock on our wall, squinting to make out… fucking hell, two thirty? Why would he perform this fuckery on me?! I groan, and look back at the man in my bed. “Not two thirty in the morning?” He brushes my confused statement off with a wave of his bitchy wrist. “Not important what time I wake you up. Just I forgot to mention earlier. You remember Aimee, right?” Aimee?

   “Aimee?” Who the fu- OW! I rub my head where Spencer just flicked it. Man, he has surprisingly strong finger! “My sister, Jon. You met her at Christmas? Tall, purple highlights?” Aimee… Oh, Aimee! “Oh, her! I thought she was like, a cousin or something. She was awesome!”

   “I know. Runs in the family.”… Now how did I not see that coming?

   I shake it off, actually wondering why Spencer’s little sister has to do with waking me up at this ungodly hour. All we seem to have around here lately is little sisters. I mean, how much longer before-

   Oh. OH.

    “It really took you that long to figure it out, huh?” Spencer seems like he’s close to laughing. “Well, you try and figure shit out at two thirty in the morning! And anyway, she’s coming here?!” Wow, I wonder how Pete let more sisters in this place. It’s gonna be overrun by tiny women if we carry on. And tiny women are the scariest.

   “Yeah, she’ll be staying here with us until the end of the year. My Dad’s being an idiot, and once he saw that the others are here, well, he just had to make her come.” Spencer’s voice sounded a little bit insulting, but his dad can be an asshole sometimes. But who cares, because Amiee’s coming! “Well, at least your sister’s gonna be here! Spencer, why didn’t you tell me like, last week, you know I love your sister, she’s so cool, and I get to teach her bass and-“ I’m shut up by a soft, bearded kiss. Okay, I can deal with being woken up for this… yep, I can deal.

   After a few very pleasant minutes, we pull away, gasping for our breath and smiles plastered over our faces. That was nice. “So, baby,” I say, cuddling up to Spencer, and enjoying the body heat. “So, when’s Aimee gonna be here?”

   “About thirty seconds ago.”

   “Ah.”… That wasn’t Spencer’s voice. I look up from the bed, past Spence’s smirking face, and I spot a teenage girl standing there, with a bag and the very familiar smirk that I see every day. They even have the same ninja skills. Who knew?

   “You okay there, Jon?” Christ, they even have the same sarcasm. Aimee’s looking not too different from the last time I saw her. Purple streaks in her hair, red and black striped T-Shirt, skinny jeans. And that ‘Smith’ looks about her. She likes you? Awesome, you’re safe from everything for life. You piss her off? Nice knowing you.

   “Uh, hey Aimee. Just didn’t see you there. How’s Ginger?” I shuffle to get off this girl’s brother, who looks fit to burst with laughter at any moment. “She’s good. Still working stuff out, the usual.”

   “Ah, Ginger’s always one for keeping busy.” How am I making casual conversation with Aimee Smith, when I am lying, naked, in a bed, next to her big brother? A little exhaustion. A little familiarity. A lot of Smith.

   “Yeah, well my Dad’s being an asshole, and long story short, I’m here with you guys.” She sits down on the bed, and we shift over to make room for her. “Aims, why don’t you go put your stuff down?  I’ll get dressed, and then we’ll go out for breakfast. I’ll bust the kitchen lock.” Spencer shoos his sister so he can get up, and they go about business as if I’m not here, slightly stunned by the normality of being awake at this time and being able to walk at the same time.

   “Spence, can I come?” I yell to him, who’s now getting ready in our very small bathroom. A kick on the door is my reply, so I take it as a yes, seeing as it wasn’t angry enough to cause splintering. Kicking off the sheets, I roll out, grabbing yesterday’s jeans, a crumpled T-Shirt of Spencer’s and my sandals (my only pair of shoes in this place).  When I am fully clothed, and we’re all ready to go, I am almost blinded by the hallway light. What the fuck, this thing could kill vampires.

   “So, how come Pete let you stay?” I’m seriously wondering if Pete is getting more insane (the world better be worried) for letting another female into our school. Well, all of the ones we have here now are badass, and could take on the boys no problem, but… they’re girls.

   “I promise Pete that I would get him the master key for real.” Spencer says casually, like what he just said wouldn’t kill us all. “You did what?!” Is this motherfucker crazy?!

   A chuckled reply from Aimee shocks me. “Don’t worry, dumb ass, we’ll get Bob to help us. He’ll give us another duplicate, he’s awesome like that. Besides, I’m the last one.”

   “Yeah, no more girls allowed.” Spence puts an arm around his sister as we exit the Teacher’s block and across the dark campus. “Pete has had everyone trying to get family in. Vicky T’s already broken the phone because of it. Hell, even Biersack wants his sister in.” Oh. Well, at least we won’t all be killed by an army of teenage girls.

   As we walk to the main building, I begin thinking about the girls. Four girls, on a campus of over five hundred boys. Any normal girls? Either terrified or determined to get one of those boys to keep for themselves. But our girls?

    Sam Toro, almost black belt, protective until the end of time and overall sweet heart. Once gave an eighteen year old thug a broken nose for calling her friend emo and walked away untouched.

   Sasha Urie, bubbly, full of knowledge of Pete and everything about this school and willing to kick ass. Could charm a turtle to give her his shell.

   Lily Iero, hard as fucking nails and protective over her loved ones. Would give up everything to make sure that the people she loved were safe.

   And now Aimee Smith. Awesome to all hell, badass and determined to make others happy. Plus the fact that she’s a fucking Smith.

   I’m pretty sure that these four combined could take down the Navy. A thought which terrifies me.

   But also makes me laugh at the other poor fuckers that don’t have them.

   Pete’s P.O.V.

   “… and here you go! Four keys to the new room.” I hand over the envelope to Ray, giving him the keys to the room where our four girls will be staying for this semester.

   “Thanks Pete. Gotta run, I’ve got to start lunch.” He looks slightly worried, and I raise my eyebrow, transmitting my expected payment. Slowly, he pulls a tiny dessert box from his jacket, places it on the table, and walks out. Hehe.

   Opening the box, I pull out one Candle Salad, and walk over to my closet, holding the other one. I open the door, and place the tiny cake on the floor. 

   “Pete, how long do I have to stay in here with that thing?”

   “Until you’re not scared of it anymore. I’ll check back in an hour, and we’ll see.” I place a kiss on a moody Patrick’s nose, stroke my trusty trombone and close the door again.

   Some people just have to learn.

Part eleven

Part Ten

   Author's Ramblings: Okay, so first off, I am very very sorry that this is so short, me nor my co-author had any ideas, and what with Easter being just over, I thought what the hell! I tried to make sure that it was enjoyable and very light hearted, and just to be on the safe side, NO DRUGS WERE USED IN THE WRITING OR PRODUCTION OF THIS STORY. AND DON'T DO DRUGS! Okay. Second of all, if any of you want to draw or create some artwork for the story, like a picture of a character, or a scene that you think was vaugly interesting, please send it to me at sambmcr@yahoo.co.uk and I will gladly put it up on the artwork page, crediting you for your wonderful creations :) Right, so on with the second half of our story, and onwards we go to the end. It's all hotting up in here!

   P.S. Dedicated to our mothers, because they pretty much keep me and my wonderful co-author on our toes, and pretty much like we are high most of the time (We aren't). Also, for supplying us with chocolate this Easter :)

   Authors: conversekilljoy and mothertruckin

   Pairings: Ryden, Frerard, Joncer, Peterick, Gabilliam (students, unsure of any others)

   P.O.V: Switches throughout, 1st.

   Disclaimer: No characters are owned by us, not ours blah blah blah... (I wish)

   Summary: The Decay Academy for Boys is no ordinary place. The teachers are sometimes more like kids, the boys learn about music in EVERY lesson, and some of the teachers have also been hiding a few secrets...

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Patrick’s P.O.V.

   Never accept food from Pete. Never accept food from Pete. Hell, never accept anything from Pete. Why in hell did I eat that Easter egg? How many years have I had to learn the ways of Pete Wentz? Far too many.

   I stumble, and whack my shin on the waste paper basket. Thank God I have a free lesson; otherwise there would be a repeat of the ‘second trombone incident’. I don’t even remember a first! But seeing as Bren insists I don’t ask, and the fact that I faint every time I see one, I think it’s better left to the unknown. Screw Pete and his ‘helping’ exercises (locking me in a cupboard with the damn thing)! Oh, God, my knees!

   I stagger over to the draw in my desk which contains the alarm Brendon and Ryan gave to me when they found out that me and Pete were married. How did that happen, anyway? Ah, my head, no time for that! Snatching the tiny box with Ryan’s number programmed in, I almost break it in my haste. I love Pete, I do, but I just don’t know why he feels the need to pretty much rape me every freaking day.

   Maybe he was Jack the Ripper in a previous life? Who knows, maybe he’s his great, great, great nephew or something?

   Ugh. I slump into my chair, desperately trying to cling onto some form of reality as the… I don’t know, rupees? Whatever drug it is, it’s powerful, and making me see stuff. I grab the glass of water and throw it over my face, but… woah, it’s like lava! Juicy lava, running all over my face…

   “Oh shit.” Ryan! I jump up to see my wonderful, beautiful cat-like friend Ryan Ross, standing with his lovely fur. And his friend! Oh, his friend has curly hair!

   “Andy, it’s the meth again. I don’t know where Pete keeps finding this shit.” Ryan is talking to his curly friend, but I don’t know what he’s saying, all the butterflies keep getting in the way! “Shoo butterflies, leave my Ryan and his curly friend alone!” I try and catch the pretty wings with my hat-net, but they keep flying away too fast.

   “Ryaaaan! Why don’t the butterflies like me? Did I upset them?” No, what did I do! I didn’t mean it, pretty butterflies, I’m sorry, come back! Aww… I slowly sit on the ground, avoiding the flowers and put my head in my hands. Crying tears of lemonade, I hear the curly man and Ryan talking, rubbing my back. “It’s okay ‘Trick, the butterflies need to go home for dinner. It’s, uh, Annual Butterfly Day, and they’re having a party!”

   Party! “Can I go?!”

   “No, it’s only for the butterflies. But they’re throwing you a special party later on, and the fastest way to pass the time is to sleep, so we’re going to take you to bed, okay?” Hmm, I guess I could sleep. Really need to save my energy for flying anyway. “Mm, ‘kay. Night Curly man!”

   “Good night Patrick.” I laugh and grab a handful of the Curly man’s hair, it’s like a pillow! Ryan and the man lift me up, and start carrying me.

   “Ryan, I want a goodnight kiss!” I can’t fall asleep without my kiss from Ryan; I never have been able to. I hear his hesitation, and it makes me unhappy. “Ryaaaan!” I won’t sleep without it, I won’t!

   “Okay, okay!” I smile as I feel Ryan’s lips on my forehead, and the way his teeth tickle my skin makes me giggle. It’s not long before I’m drifting, and I can’t wait for the butterfly’s party! It’s gonna be sooooo much fun! Maybe Pete will let me have a slumber party!

Part Twelve

Part Eleven
Masterpost

   Author's Ramblings: Yay! Part twelve! I don't know what significance that has. But I'm happy that we got this far! This is yet another day in the life, not really inspired by a lot, but still entertaining, in my point of view :) Just to let you guys know, I am happy to accept any fanart you want to do, or any side stories you want to write about Decay, I will gladly put them all up on a seperate page JUST FOR YOU, and either send me a link or the whole story on private message, or in an e-mail to sambmcr@yahoo.co.uk. I love anything, we'll always put it up. We love you guys!

   P.S: Dedicated to my actual co-author who has been sick the past few days and couldn't write anything. MT, I hope you enjoy this Skittleful part, me and Miss Pickles missed you! 

   Authors: conversekilljoy</lj>conversekilljoy and mothertruckin</lj>mothertruckin 

  Pairings: Ryden, Frerard, Joncer, Peterick, Gabilliam (students, unsure of any others)

   P.O.V: Switches throughout, 1st.

   Disclaimer: No characters are owned by us, not ours blah blah blah... (I wish)

   Summary: The Decay Academy for Boys is no ordinary place. The teachers are sometimes more like kids, the boys learn about music in EVERY lesson, and some of the teachers have also been hiding a few secrets...

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

    Brendon's P.O.V.

  

   “Ray! C’mooooon!”

   “Brendon, I told you no, quit bugging me about it already.” So not fair. I grab at Ray’s apron, trying to drag out the goodness that I know is in there. “Ray, you know I like cooking, and I’ve got loads of Skittles left, I want to make dessert!” I kick the Skittleful bag for emphasis, and pull possibly the biggest puppy eyes of my life. Well, of the week anyway.

   A few more seconds, and Ray caves, like everyone does to the wonder of Capri Sun blown pupils. Heh heh heh I laugh in my mind.

   “Fine.” Ray gives in, going to the rack of hooks and throwing me an apron, “but you have to behave. We’ve got Beirsack coming today, and it’s my turn for inspection. Just don’t mess with the knives, don’t touch the oven, and don’t you dare go near the sugar.” What?! Unfair!

   “Hey, you let the girls help you cook!”

   “Because I know that they don’t go hyper on it, and they won’t want to make the other kids hyper by putting two bags if it in the dessert.”… Okay, fair argument. It’s not like I’d try to do that though!

   Not after the first few times, now I’ve learnt my lesson. I feel so proud.

   “Alright, pass me a hairnet, and I’ll get my Skittle cakes going! Yay yay yay! Thank you Ray!” I tackle hug him, knocking him back into a table and almost spilling the whole of the soup that the kids are having for lunch today. Oops…

   “Calm it Bren, just put the net on and I’ll show you how to make your icing. You want vanilla?” Ray smiles a warm smile, and I get really excited at the mention of vanilla icing! Hell to the yes!

   Fetching the cream and the vanilla from the cupboard, I spot something that makes my, ehem, devilish little mind whirr. Ah ha. Now I can have some fun. Well, not like I wasn’t before because hello, I’m cooking. But I digress.

   “Oh Raaaaay! Ray Toro!” I sing song, holding my wonderful new weapon casually behind my back. With totally not shaking hands. And definitely no evil, suspicious grin plastered on my face. No, not at all.

     Ray turns around. “What Bren, I’m busy enough.”

   “Think fast bitch!” I spray the squirty cream into the face of Ray Toro, giggling my head off! I guess I have to learn to restrain myself around these things. Well, these things, bar Ryan. No restraints whatsoever, never, not at all. Hehe.

   “URIE!” Oh crap. I watch Ray wipe the cream out of his eye (and attempt at his ‘fro. Yeah, that shit’s not coming out anytime soon.) And glare at me with anger which I am now, thankfully, immune to, what with being hyper around Ryan for the past few years. Immune for life.

   Except Spencer.

   “Brendon, what the hell?!” Snapping out of my daydream I try to contain my laughter as Ray looks at me with his hands on his hips, a little like a pissed of marshmallow man from Ghostbusters. Oh my God, how awesome would it be if I-

   “Brendon!”

   “Yeah!” I jump, feeling the after-guilt already wracking up. “Bren, I have to clean this stuff up now. Beirsack’s gonna be here soon, and you know how he is.” Yeah, I do. Last time he was here, he kicked off about Patrick’s guitars not being in tune ready for the music lesson. Well, no one wants to remember what he almost did with those strings. Gah.

   “Okay, I’ll clean it now.” Hrmph. “Good, mop’s in the closet, just grab a bucket; I’ll get a start on your cake.” I open my mouth to argue, because it’s my cake, but all I receive is an indication to be quiet, a flick of the ‘fro and a rustle from the bag of Skittles being picked up. Huh. Not fair.

   Grabbing the mop and the bucket, I strut sulkily over to the sink; my eyes are slits as I watch Ray handle my babies. He’s better not drop any of them, or shit is going down. Seriously. I fill it with hot water, put in just the right amount (way too much) washing up liquid and sulk back over to the cream covered floor. Wow, I did a good job. Well done me!

   I am a little devil when I want to be, I really am. My favourite day is April fool’s, when I have an excuse, and Halloween, purely because no one blames me for things when I’m high on sugar.

   And when am I not?

   …oh. I didn’t know that my instincts were that playful. But then, I have always wanted to walk like a posh person. Now may be the only chance I get. Carefully putting down the mop, so not to let FB Toro hear me, I pick up the half full bucket and balance it on top of my head. As soon as it’s settled, I attempt to put one foot in front of the other. One step. Two steps. Hey, who ever said that being posh-

   “HEY BRENDON!” Whattheholyhell?! I flail my arms, wind milling to try and keep my already compromised balance. I swear, whichever fucker just screamed at me is going to pay the wrath of the Smiths! “Woahwoahwoah!” I shout, pretty much accepting my fate from Ray, just trying not to spill this foamy sea onto his floor, or I’m pretty sure I’m going to be sleeping in it.

   After ultimately being a spontaneous combustion for a few seconds, I fall. Crash. The bucket falls in slow motion, and I watch in horror as the water covers the empty floor, completely engulfing it in suds and wisps of steam. Oh no.

   I open my eyes slowly, willing myself to face the ‘fro, and when I do, he’s not looking at me. Maybe he saw the idiot who made me fall! But no. The one person that probably couldn’t have arrived at a worse timing if he’d tried has, in all his eyeliner and hilarious glory.

   Beirsack. And he doesn’t look impressed.

   Well, from what I can see under his god-like fringe.

   Scanning the room like a predator of kitchens in a, kitchen store, his eyes fall on me. Oh my God, I’m not ready to die of Andy! I have to finish my plan for the Mini me, I’ve got to see Sasha, and I’m going to find the fucker who made all this happen in the first place! Oh God, oh God, oh holy sweet mother of-

   “Is that Skittle cake?” Wait, what? Did he just ask me if- What?

   I look up at the man covered in black make-up who stands in front of me, blue eyes piercing my soul, very much in the same way Spencer’s do, looking like he wants answer or something. How? I must look like a fish, because he just points over at my Skittle dessert, one eyebrow raised. Does he– oh. Oh!

   I nod, and he smiles, clapping Ray on the shoulder as he advances towards my masterpiece. I don’t really acknowledge what he’s doing until I see a slice missing, which I see as he strides past me to the door. He turns, licking his fingers and giving us thumbs up. “You guys pass.” That’s it and he’s gone, cake, eyeliner and everything, probably off to mock Pete with my cake.

   Well. That was surreal.

   Huh. Skittle bribes work.

   I look up at a frankly stunned Ray, and I think I may have to apologise for wrecking his kitchen. “Ray, I-“

   “Doesn’t matter Bren. Just leave it, Joe’ll do it. You can make another cake if you want.”

   “I’m good.” I jump up off the floor, and walk out of the door. Just… walk out, it’ll all be okay. “Bye Ray!” I shout, feeling bad for leaving him, but I turn and see him smiling, and shouting Joe. Okay, at least he’s okay. Plus Joe’s been pretty bored lat-

   Oh, it was him! Motherfucker!

Pete’s P.O.V.

   “Vicky! Tell them all that we’re having a party next week!”

   “Fine, but I am not going. Not after last time.”

   “It wasn’t that bad!”

   “Forty cans of the crap Pete, forty cans!”

   “…fair point. Just tell them.”

   I hang up the phone and sit back. Hell, we’re going to have fun sometime soon.

Part thirteen

   I stared out into the open space of the garden, it was fading as winter was just coming. All the leaves spread out along the ground stretching from the tree's right over to me all the way across the garden. The wind send a cold shiver down my spine as it always done at this time of year.

   I'm 17 and I like in the worst most involved town ever, and I hated it.

   "Dawn Hunni, time to come in it's getting dark" My mum called from the door, she was always scared of me being out after dark even in my own garden. Well you couldn't be more careful after the bodies found in West Hudson park only a few weeks ago, Belleville was getting worse and worse each day. Well at least I had my friends Gerard, Mikey, Ray and Frank to help me get away from this place for a little while. I went inside and sat in my room, isolated from the world. Only me and my iPod. I plugged it into it's speaker and blasted Blink 182's What's my age again? I knew my mum would come in and tell me to turn it down, but I would just ignore her as per usual. She never understood how much music meant to me and how it was the only thing that actually kept me alive, not the anti-depressants from the doctor only the music.

   "Dawn turn that down!" My mum shouted after entering my room,

   "No" I said flatly.

   "Dawn Ramsey, you will turn down that music right now" She said looking furiously at me. 

   "Nope" I said again just looking straight at her.

   "Fine then" She said and walked over to my docking station and took out my iPod.

   "Mum!" I shouted at her after she took my iPod.

   "No more cheek and then you will get it back" She said and stormed out of my room.

   "I hate you" I said quietly after she left my room.

   She never understood anything about me and I could never tell her anything. The only people I could really tell everything to was Gerard, Mikey, Ivy, Ray, Frank and Rays girlfriend Sam. They were the only people I could trust, I wanted out of this house or wished my mum would be more like them, understanding.

   I lay on my bed, feeling restless. I hated it when she took my iPod, I had everything on it and I was scared incase she looked through my notes. I had my feelings about her and everything on it and all my stories. She would delete them all and then take me to counciling again. 

   I lay and thought, as always but it always made me depressed well I'm normally depressed so it made me even more depressed which wasn't good.

   I started to feel light headed, as usual at this time of night. I always went to bed early for some reason. I started thinking about school tomorrow.

   "Ughghh" I thought to myself and slowly drifted off to sleep, hoping that school would be burned down or I wouldn't need to go.

   "DAWN!" My mum shouted pulling my covers off of me.

   "Move!" I screamed at her.

   "Get up right now, it's 7:30 and Mikey is here to get you!" She shouted at me.

   Shit I forgot he was coming for me, now I need to get up.

   "Okay" I said and waited until she walked out of my room and finally got up.
I walked over to my dresser, barley able to see because I was so tired and took out a pair of blue skinny jeans and my Blink 182 top. I dragged myself to the bathroom to get ready, I swear I hated school.

   It took me ten minutes to get washed, brush my teeth and get dressed, which was actually quite good for me.
I threw my pyjamas into the washing basket and ran into my room. I picked up my purple and black squared backpack and my black knee high converse.
 
   "She finally arrives" Mikey says as I enter the living room.

   "Yep" I say fixing the laces to my shoes.

   "So who's driving today?" He asked pulling his car keys out of his pocket.

   "You because I've lost my keys" I said standing up as Mikey laughs at me.

   "Wow Dawn, you're honestly the smartest person I know" He said sarcastically as he stood up ready to leave.

   "Now Michael no need for sarcasm" I said sounding very efficient.

   "Shut up, don't call me that and are you not getting breakfast?" He asked.

   "Nah, makes me feel sick now" I said heading to the door.

   "Oh okay, well at least you're going to get something at lunch" He said .

   "Yep, I think" I said as we both entered the cold air of Belleville centre.

   "Wow it's cold" I said rubbing my bare arms trying to heat them up.

   "Aw c'mere" He said as he hugged me tightly which was actually quite warm.

   "Thank you" I said as we pulled away and got into his car.

   "No bother and do you still like Frank?" He asked sounding very curious. Mikey knew that I really liked Frank and had for a while, I trusted Mikey with my life and knew I could tell him everything and he wouldn't tell anyone. 

   "Yeah" I said starting to blush.

   "D'awwwww!" He said sounding very happy, "That's so cute!" He said in a high pitched voice.

   "No it's not, it's weird" I said blushing even more. 

   "Believe what you want but I'll always think that it's cute" He said as we pulled out of my driveway.

   "Well who do you like Mikey?" I asked him "You know mines who's yours?" 

   "Um I can't exactly say" He said sounding embarrassed.

   "Aw come on yes you can, you can trust me" I said getting excited about this now.

   "It's not that I don't trust you, I'd rather tell her first before anyone else" He said, aw this was so romantic!

   "D'awww! that's so romantic Mikes!" I said pushing my rubbing my two hands together to get some heat in my body as Mikeys heating in his car didn't work. Why did I not bring a hoodie with me?!
 
   "Mikey do you still have a spare hoodie in your locker?" I asked hoping he would say yes.

   "Yep, too small for me but I still keep it" He said keeping his eyes on the road, he was so conscious about that stuff which was good I guess.

   "Can I pretty please borrow it?" I asked "I'm freezing!"

   "Of course you can" He said smiling softly.

   "Thank you so much, I will love you forever now!" I said thinking about actually getting a heat in my body for a change.
"Oh so you didn't always love me?" He asked sounding offended.
 
   "I did, but now I love you more" I said happily but became very sad as the school came into sight out of the heavy fog.
"Well that's us, time to get out" Mikey said after he parked his car beside Gerard's car and Ray's car. Ray had a giant car mainly because he had to take a lot of people and things to school. Ray took Sam, Frank and Bob to school, I wasn't very close to Bob but the rest were. He also had to take his guitar and his guitar music along with his laptop and all his higher graphic stuff which by fuck there was a lot of.

   We both got out and walked quickly into the school and firstly went to Mikeys locker for his spare hoodie. 

   "Thank you so much" I said as Mikey opened his locker and gave me it.

   "Once again it's not a bother, now go talk to Frank he's right over there with everyone else" He said pointing to Franks locker were Him, Gerard, Bob, Ray and Sam were standing but Ray and Sam were kissing so basically only Frank, Bob and Gerard were. I walked over and stood beside Frank and Mikey followed,

   "Hey Dawn!" Frank said tackling me into a hug,

   "You're okay now!" he said happily.

   "Yep, got rid of that damn cold" I said happily.

   "Good we all missed you" He said getting forced off of me by Gerard so he could hug me.

   "Yeah Frankie, we all want a hug" Gerard said as he pulled Frank aside and hugged me. 

   "Good to see you guys again, You too Ray and Sam!" I said loudly hoping they could hear me, but once again didn't as they were in their own world together. I swear they were the best couple I'd ever seen but also the most distant couple too.

   "Just leave them I guess" Frank said focusing back on our conversation.

   "Hey Mikey, I need to talk to you for a minute" Frank said looking quite anxious about what he was going to say.

   "Okay" Mikey said as him and Frank walked away right down the White hallway filled with many students leaving me with Gerard and Bob.

   "So what do you think they're talking about?" Gerard asked

   "Maybe because Frank has a thing for Dawn" Bob said looking at me as I blushed red.

   "Aw come on, he likes you you like him it's so cute!" Gerard said.

   "Shhh!" I said putting my finger over my lips.

   "Aww Dawn has a crush!" Sam finally said after her and Ray finally came out of their imaginary world together.
"D'awww you and Frank would be great together" Ray said.

   "I don't want him to know right now, I'm telling him at the concert tonight" I said trying to think of an escape route.

   "Now that is romantic and amazing" They all said just as Frank and Mikey came into sight. 
 
   "Hey Dawn can I talk to you?" Frank asked me as soon as he got back.

   "Yeah sure" I said "See you guys later" I said walking away waving at everyone with Sam giving me a thumbs up until we got out of sight.

   "So what is it? I asked

   "Well, it's been a while now and I want to say that I......

This is not from me. I was reading blogs on the My Chemical Romance website, and I saw this, it really, really affected me. This needs to be listened, please read all of this, I think this young man is seriously, seriously amazing and so right. Repost this wherever you can, Facebook, Twitter, I don't care, just get it heard. The young man made this his life, to help young gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender people, and I think if he knows he's making and difference, he'll be even more determined to help. Please comment and tell me if you decide to repost, I want him to know that people care. People do care. Thank you.

I am writing this plea towards the band members of My Chemical Romance in order to beg them to consider doing my community a favor; a favor that, though they do not owe anyone, I sincerely hope they consider for the future.

I have been a devoted fan of MCR’s music since I was old enough to know what good music was (I’ll give you hint, good music doesn’t have anything to do with Justin Bieber or a women called Gaga). Since I was 11 years old I listened to MCR tracks late into the night. I still remember those hot summers; the oppressive heat and anxiety about the coming school year culminated together in a powerful way. Yet, it was fine since I had the only CD that enthused me to the degree that made me enjoy the lonely evenings.

As I listened to Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge, however, something inside me was manifesting. A something which would, in the coming years, become a major part of who I am thanks to the bigoted nature of modern society. I am, of course, talking about my sexual orientation.

I am Gay.

I am a gay, 19 year old activist working in whatever way I can with gay, lesbian, bisexual, and trangender youth. Though I do whatever I can to help my young community members there is only so much I can do. With the continuing spree of gay youth committing suicide I feel as though my efforts have been somewhat in vein.

Still, I trudge on though. I do so because I have a dream that one day all young people, regardless of who they love, will be able to freely express themselves. Helping me in this dream are many other people, organizations, and communities; artists, political activists, politicians, and even musicians are helping out the cause.

Contemporary artists such as Rise Against and Shinedown have both released tracks from their recent albums that deal with bullying and suicide. Yet, I do not see my favorite band, MCR, doing so: why?

I am incredibly pleased to see that Gerard and company have been progressive in their political efforts: when you refused to play concretes within states that supported the draconian anti-immigrations laws such as those put forth by Arizona I was glad to see that you were on the right side of history. Then, more recently, I see on this very website you have listed the phone line to the Trevor Hotline. From this I know that you support gay equality and from this I was joyful that my most favored musical choice had supported my community in that small way.

But still, where is the “in your face” action that is on the scale of your immigration stance? Where is the song that encourages young people to overcome their horrible bullying induced situation? As of now Tyler Clementi, Seth Walsh, Asher Brown, Billy Lucas, Raymond Chase, Zach Harrington, Justin Aaberg, Jamey Rodemeyer, and Jack Reece have all taken their own lives
because of the bullying they endured due to their presumed sexual orientation.

Shinedown has written “Bully,” while Rise Against has written “Make It Stop (September’s Children).” People such as Dan Savage have created the “It Gets Better Project” and grassroots groups have sprung up in support of these most vulnerable Americans. Do not get me wrong, I am immensely appreciative at your efforts to raise awareness about key issues as well as your protective stance, but there needs to be more.

I greatly enjoyed your track “Sing” because of its affirming connotations but, and forgive me for saying this, vague songs about being yourself is not enough for today’s belittled youth. They need a song which is there’s’, one that comes from a group that is on the cutting edge of musical activism: a group like you.

Gerard, in the band documentary Life on the Murder Scene, you spoke candidly about your experience as a disenfranchised young person seeking a way out of your crime infested town. You had said that when going through High School you were depressed because of how the “popularity circuit” ran; former friends disowning you in order to move up in the student food chain. You found the strength to carry on through comics and horror movies and eventually music yet there is something else which made you carry through till the end: your sexual orientation.

I do not intend to preach but gay teens face bullying and discrimination the likes of which their heterosexual peers know little about. They share the common burden of understanding their place in the world at a crucial time in their lives, but other than that they know very little about one another.

You were dismayed when such friends left you for the social scene yet you were lucky that is all that happened: could you honestly look me in the eye and say that you wouldn’t have been any more depressed, apathetic, or lonely had people been calling you “faggot,” “homo,” and urging you to kill yourself? I believe you would have been a mess, if I may so say.

Yet, this is the reality of school and youth life. On top of coping with the unprecedented changes in their bodies young gay people must handle the hatred directed towards them by their, often cruel, peers. Some find a way out through dropping out or moving… yet many do not.

For many youth, such as me, music helped prior to moving into night school. Music such as the brave tones of your first studio release. Though I was helped back than by your creativity, many youth today are not so lucky. They have not the fortuitousness or the means to struggle until the end.

Later in the same documentary you speak of your struggle with alcoholism and how it nearly claimed your own life. From this startling development I know you share the mindset that many depressed and lonely bullied teens have. This is why I believe you would be perfect for the role of writing a powerful, affirming anti-bulling and suicide song intended for mass consumption among the youth.

You writing such a song wouldn’t only be a personal favor to me and my community but it would show the world your stance on innocent kids unjustly marked for harassment. I hope with all my heart that you take this suggestion into mind and consider writing such as song. Trust me when I say that It would mean the world to many, many dispossessed youth searching for that little ray of acceptance.

Well, that is my letter. Due to circumstances beyond my control I was forced to post it here on the blog. I do not know if you will ever read my letter, if word of my plea will reach your ears. If I had a snail mail address I would mail it to you and do whatever it took to ensure that this letter reaches your eyes. There is a chance that you will never read my letter and though I hope the opposite is true, even if such happened, if this letter here helps just one person than I will be happy.

Sincerely,

Curtis Cole.

Please guy. Help the world and change some lives.

Posted via LiveJournal app for iPhone.