This is The Best Day Ever
"And I just can't stay. One day, we'll run away"
Gerard
Everything was a blur. I staggered from left to right in a haze, trying to make sense of where I was. I could hardly see anything as I fell to the ground. It felt dry, which was odd because it had been raining heavily not so long ago. Every part of me was aching; I couldn't feel my legs or my head which was swirling uncontrollably.
I could see three men coming towards me from where I was laying. They were all dressed in deep red and had blood dripping richly from their fangs. Their skin pale – literally the colour of death. Their eyes were cold and blood thirsty as they all stared at me in desire.
I could feel my heart pulsing under my leather jacket but I knew I couldn't do anything except scream. But when I tried, there was no sound coming out of my mouth. I tried again and again in urgency. I wanted to get out of here, to see if Mikey was okay.
As the men came closer I suddenly felt small. Not just from the fact that they were towering over me and looking down at me, but also the fact that they looked stronger and faster than me. I knew I was getting too old to fight anymore. I knew I wouldn't be able to get out of here; I wasn't fast enough.
They all had their fangs bared towards me. I knew I was done for, that this was it. Three against one. I had no chance. They leaned towards me as I shut my eyes.
I screamed for Mikey, I needed to see if he was alive. My throat started to feel soar as I used all the energy I had left to call for my younger brother. What if he was hurt? What if I never saw him again? What if he was one of them?
I could hear a beeping far away. I didn't know what it was but I didn't care. I was done for. I opened my eyes and sighed in relief as I realised I was far away from the vampires. I was in my room.
"Gerard?" I heard someone say behind me.
I turned myself over to see Mikey holding a can of coke zero with his auburn hair sticking out in all directions. He slipped on his thick rimmed glasses and blinked as my face came into focus.
"Jesus, Gerard! You scared the shit out of me. You were shouting my name in your sleep. Bad dream?" He took a swig of his coke.
"Hmm… you could say that." I yawned and stretched my arms over my head, "only I think it was more like Déjà vu."
I stared at Mikey. He knew what I was talking about. He was standing as still as a statue and his eyes had gone blank, like he had just been told he had three weeks to live or that Iron Maiden had decided to split up.
"Oh" he managed to croak out, "that dream again?"
"Yeah. That dream."
I ran my hand through my hair. It felt like a tangled mess.
I pushed the covers off myself and swung my legs over to one side of the bed. I sat with my head in my hands staring at the pale flesh of my thighs. That's when the headache kicked in.
"Aaww, fuck." I moaned, massaging the side of my head. I hated hangovers.
"Serves you right," Mikey seemed desperate to change the subject as his voice became higher. "I told you that you shouldn't have gone out drinking last night with Bert but did you listen to me? No because you never listen."
Yeah, shut up Mikey, you dickhead, I thought. I lifted myself off the side of the bed and looked around my cramped room.
I could see my electric guitar my uncle had given me before he had passed away, sitting in the corner and collecting dust. I hadn't played it in months. I had learnt three chords then given up because I had too much to think about at the time and because I didn't have the willpower to carry on. Or maybe it was because I was too busy getting wasted?
My walls were covered in posters of The Misfits, Morrissey, Iron Maiden and Black Flag, all staring down at me. It felt like their eyes were following my every move. There was only one window in my room near the top of the wall on the right. It was the only source of sunlight that entered my room. Sometimes the darkness was calming, at others, it gave me a headache and made me feel like I was the only person left on this earth.
Clothes and tapes and books were scattered all over the floor. There was rubbish everywhere and my sketchbook had decided to leak itself onto the floor, showing the room my coloured sketches of Superman and The Breakfast Monkey.
I made my way over to my beloved drawings and picked them all up off the floor, stacking them back onto my desk. I could feel Mikey's eyes in the back of my head.
"What?!" I groaned, as I turned around to see him looking at me as if I was mentally challenged.
"Gerard, now before you bite my head off, just hear me out. I know I've been saying this a lot lately but, I think you should get help. You have these dreams all the time and they're starting to worry me. I don't want you to feel even worse about that night. Maybe it's best if you talk to someone?"
I sighed. I think I'd spent 99 of my life so far telling Mikey the same thing over and over again.
"So, what Mikey? I walk into an office and the lady asks me what's up and I just say 'Oh, I keep on having nightmares about a night 5 years ago when me and my brother got attacked by vampires and they bit us and we got turned into them?!' I don't think so Mikes." I turned my back to him and started sorting out my drawings again.
I stared at my old ones I had done about 5 years ago, the ones of vampires. It made me feel sick as I saw their fangs, their eyes, and the blood flowing from their cartoon mouths that were curled upwards in bloodthirsty happiness, so I threw them in the waste paper bin beside me in disgust. I hated what I was. What I had become.
I turned around and looked at the alarm clock. It read 7:00am.
"Shit! I've gotta be at work in an hour!" I shouted. "Get out of my room, I need to get dressed!"
Mikey wasn't listening. He was too busy looking at a drawing of Iron Maiden that I had done and gulping down his Cola.
"Gerard. This is amazing. You should really try to – Hey! What are you doing?" I grabbed the drawing out of his hands and started pushing him out of my room, shoving at his back in hurry.
"Move!" I groaned, pushing him harder as he tried to snatch the Iron Maiden drawing from my hands.
I pushed him out of my door and I just had enough time to hear him moan at me.
"God, someone's got problems. Gerard, you should get a grip of yourse-"
That's when I slammed the door in his face.
I hurried over to the pile of clothes on my floor and picked out my suit. It had marks all over it and was creased. I didn't care; I had to get to work. It usually took me 45 minutes to get there. I took off my pyjamas and pulled on my shirt and trousers. I quickly did my tie and pulled on my blazer. I tripped over my own feet as I ran to the bathroom down the hall. I opened the door and stared at my reflection.
I was as white as a freaking ghost! My eyes had purple rings under them and I looked seriously ill. I splashed my face with cold water which made me wake up dramatically. I combed through my shoulder length, raven black hair. It usually wouldn't go the way I wanted it, it had a mind of its own. But today, it was being kind to me and flattened itself a little. I ran back into my room to get my portfolio which was lying on my floor among my other worthless possessions. I ran downstairs, tripping up on the last step and ran into the kitchen, pulling a piece of toast out of my brothers hands.
He was busy talking on the phone to Frank about his party this Saturday night. It was to celebrate his birthday and Halloween. Fancy dress probably, I thought. Frank was big on the whole 'extreme' party theme.
I ate the toast in a flash and grabbed my keys from the hook by the front door. I was just about to open in when I realised I had no shoes or socks on.
"For fucks sake!" I shouted, running upstairs, two steps at a time.
I ran into my room, pulled socks out of my draw and put them on. I realised they were odd but I didn't care. I ran back down the stairs. My blue and green socked feet jumping up as I avoided the last step. I put on my black, leather shoes, shouted good bye to Mikey and opened the front door.
I ran down the steps and jumped over the gate, of course, tripping on my shoe laces. I ran to my car, which looked about as old as I felt. It was in desperate need of a new paint job. I really need to get a pay rise, I thought and I opened the car door and jumped in, pulling the seat belt over my right shoulder and putting the keys in the ignition.
It wouldn't start.
Oh for gods sake! What else could go wrong?
"C'mon, C'mon, you stupid thing" I growled under my breath as I kept on turning the keys, praying for it to start. I got so frustrated that I slammed my hands down on the steering wheel, whilst screaming "START!" Suddenly, the engine roared into life. Well, at least something had gone my way today.
I turned the steering wheel and drove down the street lined with small, suburban houses.
All the houses looked the same. Same boring houses. Same boring gardens. Same boring people. God, I hated it here. I missed Jersey.
New Jersey had been mine and Mikey's home since we were kids. We loved it there. The people were amazing and they didn't care what you looked like or whether you had a Ferrari or not. No one cared about other people's business. Everyone was just so genuine and kind. I made a lot of friends in New Jersey.
That's how I met Frank. Me and Mikey had been big on small town gigs back in NJ. We went to a metal gig down at a small, local arena and heard a band named Pencey Prep where Frank had been the main singer in it.
I listened to the band play as this kid with black and red hair screamed into the microphone with every inch of his energy. He put so much thought and liveliness into that performance. It made me wish that I could do something like that.
We met him backstage after the gig and we got talking and hanged out for ages. He liked the same bands as us; Iron Maiden, Misfits. We talked endlessly about music. He gave us his number and from then on we made close friends.
Then something terrible happened. Something that I still don't like thinking about. Something that scared me even to this day, 5 years later. Since then, I'd never laughed much, I'd never smiled much. I just stayed cooped up in my room at my desk writing stories and drawing comics. I knew Mikey was still upset with it; he just coped with it better than me. He had seen me change since then. I suppose that's why he's always so worried about me.
I came back from my day dream and looked around me. I realised I had been stuck in a traffic jam for half an hour. The high skyscrapers made me feel claustrophobic and the sound of beeping horns made me feel even more on edge.
I looked out of my window to see people in suits and dresses rushing to work with folders and leaflets in their arms. Whenever I looked at these people it made me wonder what their lives were like outside of what we could see. Outside of their posh suits and slicked back hair and made up, porcelain faces. They probably binge drank on a regular basis and sat by themselves in the dark crying for hours on end, wishing that life had turned out the way they had planned when they were 14. It's like when your on the bus on your way to work because your cars broken down again and you look outside into the houses of these people and see them shouting with their husbands or eating breakfast with their children while reading the newspaper and it's like you're taking a little piece of their life with you to work and storing it in your own memory.
I sighed and started tapping my fingers tunelessly on the steering wheel. My grandmother had always said that I had artist hands. That my fingers were long and thin, perfect for sketching.
My grandmother had been an inspiration to me. She had taught me how to draw and sing. She always thought of me as more of a singer. I have no idea why because I don't like the sound of my voice. She was proud of my artwork but apparently, when I sang, it made her go cold and she had told me once that I had had a voice of an angel. Pfft. Fat chance of that. She always wanted me to do my best and make myself proud. Not do anything for anyone else's sake and even now, everything I did was for mine and Mikey's benefit.
I didn't have anyone in my life. Of course, I had friends, work colleagues, that sort of thing. But I didn't have a woman in my life. I didn't really feel like I was a ladies man. Mikey was though. I smiled as I remembered how he would always get the girls looking at him. None of them would ever stay long though; he always said they 'weren't his type'.
I didn't need a woman in my life anyway. I had a good job as a cartoonist. I lived in a … okay house. I had… enough money. Oh, screw that. I didn't have a good house or enough money. I was broke. I was cheap. And I knew the job wouldn't go anywhere major. Even though, I did get a big offer from cartoon network.
They had told me that they wanted to hire my sketches of my cartoon character 'The Breakfast Monkey' and turn it into a cartoon. I had jumped at the thought of my artwork being seen by kids all over the world. I had always wanted to write children's books. I had a young mind myself and my imagination never stopped thinking of new ideas. It was usually most awake at night which stopped me from sleeping very well. I would keep on coming up with ideas for comics, for songs and for stories.
I looked to my left out of boredom and I saw a woman in an old, blue mini. She had short black hair which shone in the light of the morning sun, making it glow all colours to the deepest shade of purple to a rosy red. She had light blue eyes, the colour of ice, which were framed with long dark lashes. Her cheekbones were sharp but her face was soft which made her look young. She was wearing a black shirt and I could see a large folder on her lap. She had a glow to her snow white face, like everything bad had gone in the world; like it was a Saturday afternoon instead of a Monday morning.
She had been playing loud music ('All the Same' by Sick Puppies) in her car. That's what caught my attention. She knew every lyric, every single word. Her singing was good, it has a infectious ring to it which I couldn't quite put my finger on. I could faintly hear an English accent as she belted the lyrics like it would be the last song she would sing. It touched me deep down in my chest, the black hole where my heart used to be before it was taken from me by a violet eyed vampire.
The lane of cars that she was behind started moving and she moved with them. I felt disappointed; I wanted to find out more about this icy blue eyed woman.
I glanced at the clock; praying it wouldn't say any time past 7:30. It read 8:00. I slammed my head against the steering wheel causing the horn to beep. Everyone looked around at my car, turning their powdered noses up at my cars paint job. They all looked posh and well dressed with Ferraris and Lamborghinis. Me? I had an old ford focus.
I gave them all a filthy look as I lifted my head off the steering wheel.
"Come on! Come on!" I growled at the cars. They didn't seem to do as I asked.
I heard another beep next to me. A man in a suit was obviously as impatient as I was. I hated this city.
Well, this must be the best day ever! I thought to myself. What else could go wrong?