Ok. So, this fanfic is not mine. It's a fic I found a few years ago (like five or four years ago) in Quizilla® -I mean, back when Quizilla was quizilla.com and not .teenick.com-. It was written by user AuroraMist, who took it down, and I don't know why.
She wrote a lot of amazing fan fictions; she's a hell of a writer. But this is definitely my favourite from her, and it is for sure the best My Chemical Romance fan fiction I've ever read. And I've read quite a few. So, I thought I'd share it -again- with the World. Cuz it's awesome, and it deserves to be read.
1
"Are you sure you want
to do this?"
"Mom, for the last
time, I'm fine."
"I'm serious! Any
hassles, tell me and we'll get you moved straight away."
"I'm not moving schools every time
something happens," I protested.
"You can you
know."
"But I don't want
to."
"You might change your
mind, Carrie."
"Mom, I don't think
so. I think for once I'd like to settle down for a while and make some real
friends."
"Look where your last
friends got you."
"Mom, I'm going to be
late."
"Just make sure you
look after yourself. This school doesn't exactly have the best
reputation."
"I'll be fine, me
swears it."
She nibbled on her bottom
lip and, watching, I rolled my eyes. Finally she said, "Okay, go before I
change my mind."
Finally! I thought, opening
the car door and getting out. Without turning to look back, I walked into my
new school. In one hand I tightly held onto a balled up piece of paper which
could also be referred to as my timetable and locker combination. At first I
was apprehensive, but when I walked down a few hallways and no one in the sea
of students really paid me any attention, I walked to my locker with more
confidence. I gathered everything I'd need for the morning. First class,
Chemistry, great ...
A week later I was sitting
in the library, my chin on my hand and my eyes trying to concentrate on the
text in front of me. I'd only been at my new school for a short while but I'd
already accumulated a heavy workload, and I knew I had to keep my grade
averages high since the only thing keeping me here was my sports scholarship.
The sport I was involved in was basketball and the school coach was a real
bitch, working the whole team four nights a week 5 -8 p.m. I told Mom and she
suggested complaining to the school but the whole school's spirit revolved
around basketball and this year they were hoping to get the girls' team all the
way to the State Finals.
Great time to join the team, Carrie, real great …
And I definitely couldn't
confide in my father because he had elected himself as my 'personal coach' when
I was five years old. Aswell as my training during the week with the team and
the bitch, I mean coach, I had the hours of grueling workout with my Dad on the
weekend to 'look forward to'.
So I was pretty much in this by myself. Good luck, Carrie.
Since sport was pretty much
the main thing in my life, especially recently since we moved, but I still had
to be an A student or be kicked out, I found myself spending most of my spare
time in the school library. It didn't really matter since I didn't really have
a social life. There were a few people I talked to in Art and Math ... but
friends? No, I'd not made any friends yet.
Did I expect to make any friends when my nose was usually buried in a book or
since I was out of most teenagers' sight in the library? No. Oh well, I'd
taught myself not to care anymore. I'd fit in somewhere eventually and that was
fine with me.
At the moment I had a large
essay due in a couple of days and since I'd moved to a new school so late in
the term yes it was important for me to try. So I found myself researching the
Cold War. I was tempted to just write 'nothing happened. The 'war' then
finished' over and over until I had the required amount of words’. But there
was too much information on the lead up, conflicting nations and Space Race for
that to be sufficient enough.
Keep reading, Carrie, don't fall asleep...
"Ow! What the fuck was
that for?!" A voice said too loudly to be considered whispering.
Glad for a distraction, I
looked up from the open book in front of me. Two boys at a table near the
shelves were having a -loud - conversation.
"Be quiet. Or she'll
kick us out again." I guess he was talking about the librarian. Pretending
to be reading, I listened on, mildly curious - dammit, I was bored!
"Don’t you fucking
change the subject, why the fuck did you hit me for?"
"'Cause you put ashes
all over my book"
"So? What's the big
deal?"
"I don't want to pay
for it, man. Just fucking watch it, Gerard."
"Yeah, yeah. Just
remember I didn't have to come with you. I don't fucking have to write an essay
on the Cold War and shit."
"Lucky you. Hey, what
the fuck are you smoking in a library for, anyways?"
I sniffed the air in what I
hoped was a discreet way. Oh.
"What are you - my
fucking mother? Do your work."
"I thought you said
you were going to help me!"
"Frank look at
me."
"No fucking
thanks."
"Don't be a dick. The
point is that I can't even help myself and you want me to fucking help
you?"
"Fine, fine," the
boy I assumed to be Frank grumbled. "I'll do it myself."
"Why the fuck are you
even fucking bothering with homework anyway? It never mattered before."
"The school called the
'rents."
"So are you gonna do
any work?"
"Are you gonna help me
at all?"
"I guess I
could."
"Good. Look for Cold
War in the shelves."
"Is that gonna
work?"
"How am I supposed to
fucking know Gerard? Like I ever used a fucking library before."
"Whatever. What will
you be doing?"
"Copying down
something I was supposed to have in class. Do you have something to write
with?"
Gerard shook his head and I
watched as his shoulder length hair flew everywhere. "Nope. I'll go and
come back with books, right?"
"Thanks."
Gerard bopped his head and
walked off. When he was gone, Frank started walking around, lifting various
things up and I guessed he was looking for a pencil or a pen. He came up
empty-handed though.
Okay, concentrate on your own work, Carrie, its due in soon...
"Hey."
I looked up and saw Frank standing in front of my table, looking down at me
unblinkingly. "Um… Hi?"
"Do you have a pencil?"
Silently I handed him one
of my pencils and waited for him to leave, back to his own table with all his
own stuff on it. But he didn't leave. He sighed and sat down at my table,
taking the seat across from me.
"So are you new?"
"Why do you think I'm
new?"
"Well I've never seen
you around before and you let me borrow something of yours."
"Yeah, I'm new."
"What year are you
in?"
"What year are
you?"
"Senior"
"Yeah, me too; Are you
doing your History homework?" I asked, realizing he wouldn't really be leaving
me alone any time soon.
"Yeah. Mrs. Green's
class. You?"
"Me too."
"You're in my
class?" Frank asked.
"Yeah, I think
so."
"I never noticed
you."
"Thanks."
"It's not a bad thing.
I know I'd like to be invisible sometimes. Do you ever feel that way?"
What was with this guy? Did
he just randomly talk to anyone?
"Sometimes. Why do you feel that way?"
"School and home and
shit, I guess. So you're here by yourself?"
I nodded, looking around at
the empty seats around me. "I'm new, remember?"
"I'm here with a
friend. But he's pissed off somewhere."
"Oh yeah, your friend.
If I walked past he'd be the one smoking the cigarette in the book shelves,
right?"
He looked sheepish.
"You heard us, huh?"
"Yeah," I said
slowly, "You're kinda loud."
"Oh yeah. Oops. So why
did you move to Jersey ?"
"My Dad's in the Navy.
We move a lot."
"Does that suck?"
"I've grown accustomed
to it."
"Did you leave behind
some really good friends?"
Kind of…
"No, not really"
"Did you have
any?"
"Yes, but like I've
said, I'm used to moving around."
"What do you and your
friends do?"
"Listen to music, see
movies, play basketball, annoy each other - you know, the regular shit."
"Me and my friends
started a band," he announced proudly.
"Really?"
"Yeah, you should come
and watch us play sometime."
"I'm kind of busy
actually."
"With what?"
"I'm swamped with
training and heaps of school work. I have to get it all done."
"Do you always do your
school work?" He asked. I could detect teasing in his voice.
"Do you always ask so
many questions?"
"Do you?"
"No."
"Me neither."
"Hey, listen, do you
think that maybe you could help me with some homework some time?"
I was just going to answer
that I couldn't now but maybe some other time, when Gerard appeared at the table.
"Frank, I couldn't
find shit on that fucking war thing ... Oh hi. Dipshit, who's this?"
"I don’t know,"
Frank said after a while of squinting at me. I'd never given him my name.
"I'm Carrie."
"I'm Gerard and that
dipshit is Frankie."
"Hey."
"Hey. Yeah, so Frank,
we have to get going now."
"What?!" Frank
demanded. "But I haven't fucking gotten anything done!"
"Tough. We have band
practice and Ray's gonna be there this time so everyone has to show."
"Fine. Carrie, some
other time?"
I raised an eye brow.
"Huh?"
"Helping me with
school work. Some other time?"
"Yeah sure." Why
not?
"See ya Carrie,"
Gerard said and started walking away. "Let's go dipshit."
xo-
~ My Chemical Romance is done. But it can never die. Because it is not a band- it is an idea. ~
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