Gerard is in the hospital...it was supposed to be Frank, but he was saved
Anywho, enjoy :)
Come on Frankie, just open the damn door.
I sighed and opened the heavy piece of wood.
Stepping into the cold, white room, I became conscious of my surroundings.
The dim lighting, the cheesy wallpaper, and the steady beeping coming from the corner of the room.
I began to have the familiar feeling of fear, not knowing when that steady beeping may stop.
I slowly looked down to who was in that bed. His pale skin, soft pink lips, jet black hair…he was beautiful.
The only thing taking away from that beauty were the purple bruises that made his face look swollen, dried blood, stitches, casts and a neck brace, and the expression he was wearing; hidden beneath the battle scars, it was an expression of pain.
This person looks nothing like the man I know but it is him.
My best friend.
But why did he look like this?
I did this to him…not literally of course. But it’s my fault that he’s in here.
It was supposed to be me…
The other day, we went out for a walk.
It was midnight; we didn’t expect many people to be out. After getting some coffee, we decided to head back home.
While on a corner, about to cross the street, my stupidity got the best of me. As I stepped out onto the paved roadway, I lacked to do the most important thing when walking…looking for what’s coming…
I heard honks and saw headlights coming toward me.
I couldn’t move. I felt like a deer in, well, headlights.
But before the huge vehicle could collide with my body, I was pushed.
I moaned as my body hit the ground, slicing bits and pieces as I slid beyond where I landed.
He had pushed my out of the way.
I looked to where I was merely seconds ago.
He was on the floor.
Blood pouring out from God knows where.
Chest not moving; he wasn’t breathing.
I stood up and ran over to him, ignoring the pain taking over my body.
I pushed the (bad) driver of the car out of the way and took a hold of the fragile man I call my friend.
“Gerard, open your eyes. Gerard LOOK AT ME! WAKE UP!”
He was unresponsive.
I quickly pulled out my cell and dialed 911, telling them the location as calmly as I possible could.
“Gerard, stay with me. They’re coming.” Tears began to pour down my cheeks, the salty water stinging the cuts on my face, “don’t leave me.”
I snapped out of my daydream.
This should have been me.
I watched the steady rise and fall of his chest, relieved that he was able to breathe on his own.
I took his hand in mine and looked at him, pain and guilt washing over me.
“I’m sorry Gerard. If only I wasn’t such an idiot and paid attention, this wouldn’t have happened.”
“…Frankie…” My heart skipped a beat.
My eyes fell to his face; his eyes were slowly opening.
“Gerard! I am so sorry! Please forgive me.”
“It wasn’t your fault. People in LA just don’t know how to drive.”
I laughed, he just woke up after his trauma and he’s already cracking jokes.
I then sat back and just looked at him, guilt refilling me.
“Frankie, this isn’t your fault. I chose to push you out of the way. It was all my doing.”
“Do you realize you could’ve died doing that? How would I cope knowing I caused my best friend’s death?”
My eyes began to fill with that salty liquid for the 10th time today when suddenly I was pulled over to the bed.
I embraced Gerard, crying onto his shoulder. No matter what he says, I will always blame myself.
“Frankie, I’m not going anywhere. If I ever did die, I would fight to come back here. I’ll never leave you. I’ll jump in front of 100 more SUV’s just to keep you safe. You can never do wrong in my eyes.”
“I love you Gee.”
“Love you too Frankie.”
I stayed in his arms for what seemed like hours.
I was so happy to just be there with him awake finally.
I’m never gonna do anything so stupid ever again.
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