Welcome to Gerard's newest Hell. Court time!
Time skip again.
And never been to court. I do watch a lot of boring court shows though. (I was actually watching one and a dude had on a Na Na Na shirt, I about died.)
I hope this is okay?
Gerard sat on he very edge of the mattress. Not really wanting to sit on it at all. But it was slightly better than the floor. Or at least it so it seemed.
He was bored out of his conglomeration of a brain.
Was this how Frank felt?
Helpless, bored, doomed, your fate in the palm of someone else's hand, unchangeable by you.
In the cell next to his, the man was giving tattoos using a staple found on the floor and dye stolen from the one of the workshops. They made Gerard cringe.
Those were the permeants, the lifeys. Something Gerard might be.
He laid back on the mattress. Fuck it. Why did it matter if there were five layers of piss beneath his head?
What did matter?
Mikey. Mikey did. And Lindsey. The babe. They mattered. But what, what could he do behind the bars? Plastered to the confides of his mind.
Compared to most people in this place Gerard had barely been there any time at all. And yet, he was already going insane.
But who's to say he wasn't insane before?
Frank sat there outside the
court house in his mom's Cube. He watched as all the reporters swarmed the place. This was the talk of Jersey.
C'mon, a teacher bluntly and brutally murdering four people? Huge.
Frank had to testify and he didn't know if he could do it. Could he get the words out? Oh, would they catch on his tongue?
But Frank was crucial in the case. Frank was the key factor in whether or not Gerard was innocent or guilty. He knew Gerard was innocent, there was no question. He had been at school with Frank when the murder went down.
As his mom pulled him out of the car and into his wheelchair, camera flashes everywhere.
A camera anchor shoved his way into Frank's face. "Mr. Iero, Do you believe your teacher, Mr. Way, is guilty?" the already irrating man asked, pronouncing his name wrong.
He stared straight ahead, dead was the best route here.
Gerard wasn't just his teacher either, he was his best friend.
No matter how calm or dead he could make himself look, he was a mess inside.
THey entered the courtroom, a police officer opening the swaying doors for them.
The judge was told to treat Frank extra special.
Frank was sworn in.
"Mr. Way, where we you the date of January eighth?" The balding judge tongue out in Southern accents.
Gerard looked up from the hair in his eyes, through it.
"I was at school, teaching Frank." Gerard said, lifelessly, sounding so calm and serene.
"You were there all day?" The judge asked skeptically.
"Yes, sir. " He answered calmly still.
"And what time did you leave?"
"Four twenty eight."
"And you know those exact numbers because...?" he trailed off.
"I was in a rush. I had to talk to the guidance councilor, and that had taken longer than I expected. I needed to get home in time to go to a movie with my friend."
The judge questioned the guidance councilor, who's story matched Gerard's. That he had indeed left at four twenty-eight, she even remembered him saying some about the time, which is why she had noticed it.
Next they questioned his friend, the one he planned on seeing the movie with, Lindsey. And she cleared his story.
Now it was Frank's turn.
"Mr. Iero, was your teacher with you on the date of January 8th?"
"Can you speak Mr. Iero?" the judge asked bluntly.
His mother stepped in and tapped the mic before speaking.
"He hasn't spoken since he was paralyzed. the doctors say that in some rare cases it is possibly to have neck mobility but strained vocal cords. They say he might be able to use it one day as with his arms and legs, but it's unlikely, your honor."
"Well then Mr. Iero, did Mr. Way leave at all that day?"
Frank shook his head vigorously.
"So he was there the whole day?"
He knew that if he didn't speak this would be all for nothing. And Gerard would end up sentenced guilty.
Lindsey wasn't a great alibi, he could have committed the crime quickly, then gone and picked her up. Plus, she didn't even know when he came. No, it had to be Frank. He had been there the whole time, during the the time frame of the crime. When a neighbor said they saw someone in black slip out of the house nearby.
It was silent for several minutes. Some one started to cough. The room was plunged in silence. The only sound was the random rustling of documents.
Talk, talk, talk, talk! TALK! Dammit. You know words, speak them!
"...Y-y-yeee...s" The word sounded so clipped and wrong, like hearing a deaf person try to speak, like the nails on a chalkboard, unnatural.
His mom stared a him. That was the first time she had ever heard him speak. She stared at him and smiled, happy tears poured down her face.
Gerard started at Frank, shell shocked. Frank spoke words! Words. For the first time. For him.
He sat there in his orange prison garb. Handcuffs linked around his wrists. He looked like Hell. His hair was greasy and his makeup had run. But that didn't make Frank think any lesser of him.
Alright. This chapter really isn't all that I want it to be. But I don't know what that really would be anyway though.
I just don't have time right now.
I mean I've been sick, taking long frequent naps, trying to bring my math grade back up, and I have a huge speak tomorrow.
Anyway, thank you so much everyone for the reviews. They really help me pull through.