Frank decides it's time to leave for good.
Frank drunkenly stumbled through the deep snow in a haze. Night had fallen and everywhere around him was pitch black. He didn't know where he was and to be honest, he didn't care. This was all part of the plan. He couldn't be found too soon. No one could intervene and ruin the last bit of happiness and power that he had.
Through an extremely blurred vision he could make out the silhouettes of the tall oak trees that lined the outside of what looked like a vast field. He listened carefully into the night for any signs of civilisation; all that met his ears was the sound of a whispering wind coming steadily in from the north. Perfect.
He shivered slightly and smiled, this was what he wanted. His whole body was achingly numb. He took his cell phone out of his pocket to check the time and attempted to read the many numbers that were moving around the tiny screen. Finally, he gained his focus and saw that it had just gone eleven o'clock. It was almost time.
He wandered into the field and plonked himself down on the frozen ground, the snow reaching up to his shoulders and devouring him in it's bitterness. He shivered again, but more violently than before. Lying back slowly he let the snow rise above him almost as if he was making a snow angel, but what Frank was doing was far from child's play. This was serious. This was the end. He looked up at the clear january sky. Too cold for clouds, too cold for anything except death. He could see thousands of shining stars in the black sky. He would soon be one of them. He took out his cell phone again and composed a message.
'Gerard, I'm sorry. I love you, I always have, I always will. xo frank.'.
His hand shook as he attempted to press send and a tiny tear escaped his hazel eyes. No, he mustn't cry, this was exactly what he wanted. He had been planning this for a while, and he was ready to take the final steps before his mission was complete. He sent his message and was pleased to see it hadn't delivered yet. Gerard would receive it in the morning when he turned on his cell phone, and by then Frank would be long gone. Or so he hoped. The fear of being discovered early suddenly crept in and he pushed himself lower into the snow determined to keep himself hidden from any possible passers by.
He knew how close he was to passing out from the cold, the next step after that was death. He had deliberately wore thin jeans and a small cotton T-shirt to make the whole procedure quicker. His mother had scolded him and demanded that he wear a jacket when he had left his warm house only several hours before. But she didn't know the plan, she wouldn't understand if she did. She thought he was going to his friend Ray's to watch movies. This was something Frank had to do. There was nothing else left for him and he was prepared for his early departure from life. He had left his house and stowed his jacket in his bag, deciding that it may aswell serve as a purpose to protect the large bottle of vodka he had brought with him from any damage.
He had then walked miles from the small New Jersey suburbs and into more open land, deliberately making himself lost whilst he swigged from the cold glass of the bottle as he got steadily drunker.
As Frank felt his eyes beginning to drop and his breathing become more and more difficult to do, he knew this was it. He closed his eyes and as he took his last breath, he thought only of Gerard before nature took him into her tight grasp.
Frank Anthony Iero was dead.