Chapter 4, Frankie's POV -Quote from the passage- It hurt a little, but when I saw how heavily I was bleeding, the pain stopped.
When I finally got to my house again, I opened the door and slammed it behind me. I don’t care if I woke the entire neighborhood up because of it. I’m just so sick, and so tired of everything. So sick I’m going to kill myself.
I can’t handle this anymore. It’s like people are taking chunks of me and throwing them in the fire until they’ve had their fill. And I keep giving them more to take. I keep putting myself together just for everyone to take and take and destroy me piece by piece, again and again. I can’t handle that anymore. I can’t live like that anymore. Gerard was the only person who never took. He’s the only one who never picked me apart, and then just threw what they took somewhere. He put me back together. He made me whole, while everyone else made me like Swiss cheese.
I saw the message light blinking on my answering machine. So I played it. To my surprise, it was Gerard.
“Hey Frankie… It’s Gerard. If you want to call or something, you can… Or if you want to stop down by my house sometime, that’s cool to. Um… Can you call me back when you get this? I’m worried about you… Talk to ya later, Frankie.” He said.
Oh, how I miss his voice. I loved it so much. I wish he knew how much he meant to me. I want him to know how much I wanted he and I to be us again.
I walked up to my bedroom, and grabbed the tablet I had near my bed. I wrote a lot of songs in there, notes, letters I never sent, and that I never wanted to send. I grabbed a pen and started to write.
“To whom it may concern,
My name is Frank Iero. I committed suicide 3/04/11. I just figured this end would hurt everyone less. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. To whoever finds me, please, give this to Gerard Way.
I love you. That night a few months ago, I meant it. I wish you knew how much I actually loved you. But, now you’ll never know, and you probably don’t care. Either way, I love you, whether or not you believe me.”
I tore it out of the notebook, and took it with me downstairs. I walked into the kitchen, and grabbed the sharpest knife I owned. This would be easier than I thought. Cut and drag it up my arm. Simple.
I walked back into the living room, and sat on the couch. I examined the knife and smiled. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for this whole time. Just to slowly fade away. This feeling is better than anything else.
I pressed the knife to my skin and cut into my wrist with the most pressure I could. It hurt a little, but when I saw how heavily I was bleeding, the pain stopped. The blood was just gushing from my wrist. I loved this. This is the best I’ve felt since the last time I touched Gerard.
The feeling kept getting better, because with every minute that ticked by, I lost myself more and more.
Suddenly, I heard a knock on the door. I didn’t bother to answer, because this was my last moment. I didn’t want someone to deprive me of this joy. Then I fell unconscious.