So many nevers. He'd stay in Never-never land for a while, if it meant she wasn't dead.
It was sometime later when Frank managed to regain control of his feelings. He lay back on the dark brown carpet, simply to stare at the cream ceiling. Kate was dead. Dead and buried. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes once more, and yet again he roughly pushed them away.
He took a shaky breath as he thought back to the funeral service. Most people were in colour, not black, and there had been a jazz band playing. She never had liked sadness. They’d joked about that last year, back when she was still okay. She’d said that whenever she died, there would be a jazz band, and oh how he’d laughed at that. A single tear spilled over and ran down the side of his face.
He’d never laugh with her again. Never see her smile with her wonky tooth. Never see the faint scar on her cheek that he had caused. Never watch as she absentmindedly traced patterns on her arm. Never see the cluster of freckles that graced her right foot.
He knew he shouldn’t be thinking like that. It would only make him cry. And she had hope. Hadn’t she written ‘maybe I’ll see you sometime’ ? He bit his lip as the dusty ceiling was obscured by his tears.
He would go through the contents of this box. He would. But how long it would take he didn’t know. But he had time. An announcement had gone up on the band’s website saying ‘We apologize for the cancellation of the April 25th concert. As band we have been shaken by the death of a close friend, and we didn’t feel able to perform. The rest of the concerts will be continuing as planned. However, Frank won’t be playing with us for a while, but we do have a stand in who has mastered all of our songs. Thank you for your continued support and understanding at this tragic time.’
Shaken was too weak a word. Desolate, wild, traumatized, disturbed and suicidal, maybe. But not shaken.
He had sat there. He hadn’t moved when he heard the news that she was dead. Frank Iero, frozen because of one phone call. That was the main reason the gig had been cancelled. Because the guys hadn’t known what to do with him. He wouldn’t move, wouldn’t talk, and at times it seemed as though he wouldn’t breathe.
And then came the denial. And then the grief. The never-ending grief. The grief that still held him in its sway.
The stars had been visible for hours before Frank stopped the everlasting flow of tears.
Author's Note: Yes, not alot has really happened in this chapter. But if you read, you should review. It's only polite. And if you don't like it, say that. I don't mind. There are plenty of stories I don't like, and people should feel comfortable with their own opinions.