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Can You Stake My Heart	By : poe Category: My Chemical Romance > General Views: 2756 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of My Chemical Romance. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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I do not know, own or have any affiliation with anyone in mcr.
She'd always believed in God. Even as a little school girl, every week she would sing along with the other children to the bible songs in Sunday School. She asked Jesus into her heart when she was five years old. The only way to get into heaven was to ask Jesus into your heart. No good deed, or extraordinary life would do it, only the blood of Jesus, her mother had told her. If you didn't love Jesus with all your heart, then you'd go to hell. She was a little afraid. She'd heard about hell. It was a very bad place. She didn't want to go there. Her mother and father were so proud of her the day she became a Christian. So proud.
So where's God now? thought Versailles bitterly, as she trudged along the hallway leading to her apartment. She distanly wondered if she would ever be cabable of crying again. Every fluid she had in her body had seemingly found its way to her tear ducts and escaped. It hit her again, and she collapsed to the floor sobbing. She wanted to scream as loud as she could, until her throat burst, or she passed out from lack of oxygen.

She sprawled on the ground, her face burning against the rough blue-grey of the carpeting. It smelled musty and old. She wanted to die. She didn't really care that she was in the middle of the hallway. She felt sick, and lightheaded and nauseous, among other things. She didn't want to live anymore.

Did you fucking hear me? Kill me now, and get it OVER WITH! She couldn't will herself to die, although she had silently pleaded on more than one occassion for death to take her. She was still here, which meant her cries had gone unanswered. They always go unanswered while you sit up there ignoring me. If you even exist....Her parents were....gone...... It was a Tuesday.
Neither the police nor the doctor had wanted to tell her what had really happened. They figured with the trauma of losing two parents in one day, explaining to her how her parents had been unceremoniously drained of blood and left on their bedroom floor didn't seem to be such a brilliant idea. But she had insisted. Cause of death, exsanguination. But why?
It seemed in the wake of such severe trauma, her body just refused to function the way she wanted it to. She wanted to walk to her apartment, open the door, sit down and have a long, hard drink. But it didn't quite work out that way. She crawled across the carpet on her hands and knees to get to her apartment door. She had to stop several times when her arms gave out and she fell. Finally, she sat up on her knees and unlocked the door, crumbling in the entryway, pulling her legs in behind her and kicking the door shut. It had taken everything she had just to get into her car and drive home from the morgue.
Defeated, she curled her body into a fetal position, rocking back and forth on the floor. No....no this isn't real.....I'll wake up in the morning...and everything will be back to normal.....not real...... She kept repeating this to herself, like a mantra, until she fell asleep, hoping, but not praying, that when she awoke, everything would be fine. She wasn't praying for anything anymore. He just didn't seem to care.
And if she had ever believed that God, being all powerful, all knowing and all encompassing, had mapped out a plan for her entire life because he loved and cared for her more than she could ever imagine -- really believed it, like the Bible said, all that "faith of a child" bullshit -- after what she had just seen in the morgue that night, she most definitely did not believe it now.
*****
The funeral was on a Friday.
It had been raining steadily since the early hours of the morning, and since she'd gotten up, the rain had grown progressively worse, almost as if in tandem to the dark thoughts that had consumed her since that night. It cast a dreary shadow over everyone gathered in the cemetery. But it sort of made her feel a little better.
Versailles stood near the front of the group, apart from everyone else. She hadn't wanted to stay close enough to be covered with one of those fucking black umbrellas that they always have at funerals in the movies. She felt the rain dripping through her dark red hair, the cold of it seeping in through her scalp and clothing, chilling her to the bone. She welcomed the sensation, revelling in the fact that she could feel the rain pelting her head and shoulders over and over. As if anything could be colder than this she thought bitterly.
She could feel eyes staring at her. Sympathetic eyes, trying to catch hers to shoot apathetic glances, or mouth "I'm sorry"s at her, boring into her like an electric drill, through her black velvet jacket, and her black lace dress, right into her heart. Or whatever it was that resided in her chest now.
There was a pastor standing above the coffins, which were sitting beside their respective graves, covered in flowers and cards. There was no shortage of mourners; her parents had been good people, well-respected and loved, with many friends. The pastor's voice kept drowning in and out of her stream of consciousness as she stifled back her tears and the constant blackness that threatened to consume her with every breath. It was always there, waiting, hiding in the shadows for the moment when she would hold her breath, that moment when she would lose control. It wanted to break her in half. And then break her in half again. And again. And again. And again, until her heart, her soul, was reduced to nothing but ash. She couldn't give in to that yet. Don't forget to keep breathing....
"...and into the hands of the Father, we commend these, thy servants of the Almighty God......"
She wanted to look up, but couldn't find the will to move her head even that much. So instead she narrowed her eyes, directing a scornfull glare at her inexpensive black Mary Janes. You stupid idiot. Couldn't even wear nice shoes? It's your parents FUCKING FUNERAL!
She burst into silent, wracking sobs.
She didn't hear anything else after that. The pastor finished talking, and she supposed he was followed by a few friends and family members. After what seemed like a passing eternity, she felt someone tapping her gently on the shoulder. She looked up slowly, and watched whoever it was (she didn't even register the conversation) talking to her, possibly consoling her, rubbing her arm in an attempt to comfort her. She forced a sad smile, and mumbled a "Thank you" before looking back down to the ground where her mom and dad now lay.
Do you even have a clue what this feels like?
Yes.
It wasn't an answer so much as a thought that had formed in her head, a few moments after the fact. She thought for sure she had accidentally said something out loud, and gotten a response. She brought her head up painstakingly, and looked around the cemetary. The spectators had all departed, leaving her alone beside the fresh graves. She noticed she was sitting on the ground beside them, mud caked all over her cheap shoes and not-so-cheap dress. She didn't remember doing that. Didn't matter. As if she'd ever want to wear it after today anyway.
I'm losing my mind my fucking mind....
She forced herself up from her knees and mechanically walked back to the black sedan that patiently awaited her arrival. She slipped wordlessly into the back seat, sodden and defeated. The driver said nothing himself, knowing the situation, and had enough prudence to drive her quickly and efficiently back to her apartment complex.
As they exited through the cemetery gates, she looked up from her dismal stupor, her eyes immediately fixing on the man standing not five feet from the entryway. He was walking in as they were withdrawing, and for a split-second she made fierce and direct eye contact with him. He stared into her as the car drove by, her next breath contained in her throat, her tears, and the water that soaked her hair turning to ice on her flesh. Goosebumps riddled her body. His stare was so intense, and deliberate, she found herself unable to break the glare. She took in everything about him. Dark shoulder-length hair, black suit and tie, ghostly pale complexion. If she didn't know better, she would have thought that he belonged here amongst the gravestones. His gaze never wavered, and almost unwillingly, she blinked.
"Miss?"
She looked up to see her apartment building rising above her. She shook her head in disbelief. What....where did he go?
She leaned forward, a little confused as to how the driver had gotten here so fast. "What happened to that man?" She asked quizzically.
"Sorry, miss?"
"The man. The man that was standing outside the cemetery. We drove by him two seconds ago....how did we get here so fast?"
"Sorry miss....you fell asleep almost as soon as you got into the car. I didn't want to wake you up...."
She sat back in the seat. How could that.... "Oh. Right....sorry. Thank you." She stepped out of the vehicle, and walked up to her apartment, sliding the key in the lock and collapsing on the couch, throwing her purse and shoes and jacket on the floor in a heap. She had seen him. She swore she'd seen him.....
Maybe she really did fall asleep. She was fucking tired. She hadn't slept much since the night of her parent's murder.
She realized she was still soaked to the bone, and freezing, when her teeth began to chatter. She drew up a warm bath, undressed, and lowered herself into it.
I'm losing my fucking mind....
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Can You Stake My Heart