I Think You're Sore

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Gee's POV

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I was silent as we drove towards the bank, not wanting a conversation or music on the stereo.

My heart was racing, my mouth felt dry and we hadn't even gotten into the town yet.

I was a complete coward and the only thing keeping me in the car was the thought of my brother and how much he needed this money.

If I back out who knows what'll happen to him.
Broken knees, cement shoes, Colombian necktie.

I've never thought of all the clothes terms people use when talking about murdering someone.
I wonder what will happen to me if I do get caught by the police. I have enough of a record that I'll without a doubt go to jail.

I'm not small but I've never been a big person and I do look kinda girly so I'll probably be overly befriended by a cellmate named Bubba.

The wonders of prison.

I suppose I could kill myself if it came to it or if the cops manage to get into the bank I could act crazy enough for them to shoot me.
Ah but there's no guarantee of death from that, they have tasers nowadays and they'd probably use those instead.

I've got a gun, I guess I'll have to blow my brains out, I'm fine with that and it's gotta be better than knowing what'll happen to Mikey without the million dollars he needs.

That's my plan then, death or victory.

Millions || Gerard WayOù les histoires vivent. Découvrez maintenant