Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > My Mistake? Being Me.
My Mistake? Being Me.
5 ReviewsFrerard. can frank ever find happiness or will his only companion be a set of grimy razor blades.
i thought i might start another story! so here it goes....
Franks POV:
i stared out of the car window. the rain was hitting the glass like little bullets trying to kill the precious human cargo of the car. i frowned. i didn't like rain that much, it reminded me of people crying. some say rain is the tears of those who have passed. why would they be sad i mean...come on. they get to leave life and enjoy a painless eternity. no matter how hard i try i never die.
my names Franklin Anthony Iero, pronounced Eye-Ear-O, i'm 17 and i have had 7 failed suicide attempts in 4 months. yeah, my life sucks that much. my dads an alcoholic who constantly beats me up and my mom likes to join in. according to them i'm a worthless faggot. (yeah thats right i'm gay). and y'know what they're right. no could ever love me for me. in my old town i was mr. emo faggot with tattoos who got beat up everyday by jocks. no doubt that in this new town i will be known as such again. i'm worthless.
the car i was in came to a stop and i looked outside. i saw a frail looking house with a small welcoming front porch. it looked nice i have to admit but give it a few weeks and it will be run down with empty beer bottles littering the front lawn, thanks to dad, and blood stained into the carpet. most likely my blood. mom and dad opened the car doors and sighed.
"honey i love the house!" my mum squealed. i hated that squeal. i was like a prize hod i have to say. nevertheless my dad adored it.
"i know sweetheart, perfect right!" my dad cuddled my mom and went to unlock my door. i was still sitting in the car. the door closest to me swung open and in came a pair of arms that dragged me to the floor.
"ugh, digusting child!" my dad grimiced. he hated me ever since i was born. apparently i was the aftermath of cheap shit quality condoms my dad had purchased from a guy on the sidewalk. i started to pick myself from the floor when i felt a sharp kick in my ribs.
"stay down boy! i never told you to get up!" my dad barked. i held my ribs in pain and layed down on the floor.
"y-yes sir." i muttered just loud enough so that he could hear me. my dad spat at me and opened the boot of the car. he carefully placed his and my moms bags on the floor and chucked mine on the ground in a puddle. he also flung my guitar out onto the street too. i sighed. that guitar was a reminder of happier times when i actually was loved. my best friend sammy (a girl, d'uh) got it for me as a leaving present before she moved to england. i sighed. she was my only true friend and she left. my dad strode over and lifted me to stand on my feet.
"you bloody mistake. grab your things and take them into the room we got for you! and stay there until school next monday!" he yelled. i picked up my guitar and suitcase and went inside the house as my mom tried to lift her giant pink holdal that had at least a years supply of hair car products and make up in. the house was nice and warm and had a very 'homely' feel, as if its been enjoyed by everypast vistor. shame that wouldn't last for much longer. i trudged up stairs and found a room that had a piece of paper stuck on the door.
'MISTAKES ROOM'
i snatched it off the door and walked in. it was a basic room and it lacked good sleeping conditions. compared to the rest of the house it was a complete junk yard. a blemish on the perfect face of the house. i looked around and saw a beaten down bed and a shabby wardrobe along with damp coming through the walls and a dust covered windowsil. i shuffled over to my new bed and plonked my stuff down next to it. i went over to the door and locked it before flopping down on my bed.
"oww!" i said through gritted teeth. it was probally the worst bed in exsistence. beds only have one criteria and thats to be comfy..mine was the complete opposite. you could feel the metal spikes shredding your skin even through a matress and a duvet. i sighed and sat down, rubbing my now sore back. i looked at my watch. 4:49 it screamed at me with neon green numbers. too early to go to bed but thats all i could do. i couldn't play guitar cause my parents would kill me. literally. and i can't eat even though i'm starving. my 'rents never feed me so why would they start now. i sighed and rembered the date. friday 14th october. great. 2 days without food and then i have to go to a completely new school. odds are i'll probally get shived into a locker on the first day. i started to panick. what if they beat me up as well. i couldn't handle too much. i was a very weak person due my shit upbringing. what would i do if stress got the best of me. and then i remembered my old friend. i grabbed my bag and started to dig through it until i finally found what i was looking for. a tatty old shoe box. i opened it up and revealed my 'old friend'. the box contained 4 types of razor, my favourite razor (you could tell i used that the most due to all the dried up blood on it) and a bloodstained photo of a random happy family. it was one of those old photos from the 70's that was in sepia tone and everyone was wearing multicolour prints. it was reminder of what i could never be part of; a happy family. i grabbed the smallest razor and started to slide it agaisnt my wrists. not deep enough to kill but deep enought to feel something. after 10 minutes i looked at my wrist. unconciously i had wrote the word 'PAIN' in my arm. i sighed and watched small droplets of blood roll down my arm. i grabbed an ols tissue from my pocket and tried to stem the flow. it worked and i slid my box and blood covered razor under my bed. i shut my eyes and started to dream. i was happy when i slept but something alway stopped my happiness.
"FRANLIN FUCKING IERO! GET DOWN HERE NOW!" i heard my mother screech. i picked myself up and walked down the stair and saw my mum with a baseball bat. i turned to run but something hit my head and i fell. the last i saw was blood trickling down my face and into my eyes before i blacked out.
i woke up in my room with terrible head pains. i sighed and pulled a mirror out of my pocket. i was now the proud owner of a black eye and menacing gash on my left cheek. i put the mirror down and looked at my watch. 6:13 it showed me. i checked the date too. MONDAY 17th OCTOBER. great. first day of school and i have a black eye. nothing could be worse eh? wait. being an emo faggor with a black eyes on the first day of school. now that in my opinion is much MUCH worse.
first chapter!! what do you think??? please R&R and i also need 3 school friends for frankie so if your interested please leave a comment telling me about what you think is nesscary for me to know about you :) thanks for reading and next chapter up soon :D
Franks POV:
i stared out of the car window. the rain was hitting the glass like little bullets trying to kill the precious human cargo of the car. i frowned. i didn't like rain that much, it reminded me of people crying. some say rain is the tears of those who have passed. why would they be sad i mean...come on. they get to leave life and enjoy a painless eternity. no matter how hard i try i never die.
my names Franklin Anthony Iero, pronounced Eye-Ear-O, i'm 17 and i have had 7 failed suicide attempts in 4 months. yeah, my life sucks that much. my dads an alcoholic who constantly beats me up and my mom likes to join in. according to them i'm a worthless faggot. (yeah thats right i'm gay). and y'know what they're right. no could ever love me for me. in my old town i was mr. emo faggot with tattoos who got beat up everyday by jocks. no doubt that in this new town i will be known as such again. i'm worthless.
the car i was in came to a stop and i looked outside. i saw a frail looking house with a small welcoming front porch. it looked nice i have to admit but give it a few weeks and it will be run down with empty beer bottles littering the front lawn, thanks to dad, and blood stained into the carpet. most likely my blood. mom and dad opened the car doors and sighed.
"honey i love the house!" my mum squealed. i hated that squeal. i was like a prize hod i have to say. nevertheless my dad adored it.
"i know sweetheart, perfect right!" my dad cuddled my mom and went to unlock my door. i was still sitting in the car. the door closest to me swung open and in came a pair of arms that dragged me to the floor.
"ugh, digusting child!" my dad grimiced. he hated me ever since i was born. apparently i was the aftermath of cheap shit quality condoms my dad had purchased from a guy on the sidewalk. i started to pick myself from the floor when i felt a sharp kick in my ribs.
"stay down boy! i never told you to get up!" my dad barked. i held my ribs in pain and layed down on the floor.
"y-yes sir." i muttered just loud enough so that he could hear me. my dad spat at me and opened the boot of the car. he carefully placed his and my moms bags on the floor and chucked mine on the ground in a puddle. he also flung my guitar out onto the street too. i sighed. that guitar was a reminder of happier times when i actually was loved. my best friend sammy (a girl, d'uh) got it for me as a leaving present before she moved to england. i sighed. she was my only true friend and she left. my dad strode over and lifted me to stand on my feet.
"you bloody mistake. grab your things and take them into the room we got for you! and stay there until school next monday!" he yelled. i picked up my guitar and suitcase and went inside the house as my mom tried to lift her giant pink holdal that had at least a years supply of hair car products and make up in. the house was nice and warm and had a very 'homely' feel, as if its been enjoyed by everypast vistor. shame that wouldn't last for much longer. i trudged up stairs and found a room that had a piece of paper stuck on the door.
'MISTAKES ROOM'
i snatched it off the door and walked in. it was a basic room and it lacked good sleeping conditions. compared to the rest of the house it was a complete junk yard. a blemish on the perfect face of the house. i looked around and saw a beaten down bed and a shabby wardrobe along with damp coming through the walls and a dust covered windowsil. i shuffled over to my new bed and plonked my stuff down next to it. i went over to the door and locked it before flopping down on my bed.
"oww!" i said through gritted teeth. it was probally the worst bed in exsistence. beds only have one criteria and thats to be comfy..mine was the complete opposite. you could feel the metal spikes shredding your skin even through a matress and a duvet. i sighed and sat down, rubbing my now sore back. i looked at my watch. 4:49 it screamed at me with neon green numbers. too early to go to bed but thats all i could do. i couldn't play guitar cause my parents would kill me. literally. and i can't eat even though i'm starving. my 'rents never feed me so why would they start now. i sighed and rembered the date. friday 14th october. great. 2 days without food and then i have to go to a completely new school. odds are i'll probally get shived into a locker on the first day. i started to panick. what if they beat me up as well. i couldn't handle too much. i was a very weak person due my shit upbringing. what would i do if stress got the best of me. and then i remembered my old friend. i grabbed my bag and started to dig through it until i finally found what i was looking for. a tatty old shoe box. i opened it up and revealed my 'old friend'. the box contained 4 types of razor, my favourite razor (you could tell i used that the most due to all the dried up blood on it) and a bloodstained photo of a random happy family. it was one of those old photos from the 70's that was in sepia tone and everyone was wearing multicolour prints. it was reminder of what i could never be part of; a happy family. i grabbed the smallest razor and started to slide it agaisnt my wrists. not deep enough to kill but deep enought to feel something. after 10 minutes i looked at my wrist. unconciously i had wrote the word 'PAIN' in my arm. i sighed and watched small droplets of blood roll down my arm. i grabbed an ols tissue from my pocket and tried to stem the flow. it worked and i slid my box and blood covered razor under my bed. i shut my eyes and started to dream. i was happy when i slept but something alway stopped my happiness.
"FRANLIN FUCKING IERO! GET DOWN HERE NOW!" i heard my mother screech. i picked myself up and walked down the stair and saw my mum with a baseball bat. i turned to run but something hit my head and i fell. the last i saw was blood trickling down my face and into my eyes before i blacked out.
i woke up in my room with terrible head pains. i sighed and pulled a mirror out of my pocket. i was now the proud owner of a black eye and menacing gash on my left cheek. i put the mirror down and looked at my watch. 6:13 it showed me. i checked the date too. MONDAY 17th OCTOBER. great. first day of school and i have a black eye. nothing could be worse eh? wait. being an emo faggor with a black eyes on the first day of school. now that in my opinion is much MUCH worse.
first chapter!! what do you think??? please R&R and i also need 3 school friends for frankie so if your interested please leave a comment telling me about what you think is nesscary for me to know about you :) thanks for reading and next chapter up soon :D
Log in to rate and review this story