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I lay there silent and motionless under the white, cotton hospital bed sheets. It must be about three AM, and I couldn't here anything but the sound of my heavy breathing, and the gentle ticking of the circular, silver clock that hung on the creamy wall behind me. Frequently, I would get scolded by the middle aged nurse that checked on me often during the night for not going to sleep until this late. I should have my rest, but my mind thinks otherwise. It won't shut up. Memories from over the all these years kept replaying in my brain as if it were a movie. My thoughts drifted back to 9 years ago, before I had developed my haphephobia.

I trotted home from school nervously. Glancing at my clock every minute, I tried desperately to make it home before three. That’s the time when they would be waiting for me. It was 2:53 and I was still 5 blocks away from my home. Desperate, I started running frantically. I heard sounds of mocking laughter from behind me, and fast footsteps other than my own. No! I shut my eyes, ignoring the bitter taste of the sweat that dripped on my chipped lips. My body felt like it was lit on fire with kerosene even though it was a February afternoon; it was raining icy drops that pounded against the sidewalk. The wind was howling as it sounded like a dozen weeping angels crying out in pain.
My body suddenly collided with something hard, and warm. Raising my head fearfully and slowly I found myself staring into the dreadful eyes of what I have been running away from. "Hey Gerard," he sneered. "You ready for playtime?" Moments later, all of what could be heard was the sound of mocking laughter and my cries of agony as I received blow after blow in my rib cage. Occasionally, I would feel fists colliding with my jaw. After they released me, I felt my body over washed with pain as I chocked out blood. There was a heavy flow pouring from my nose. "If you were normal like the rest of us Geegee you wouldn't be stuck in a situation like this, but since you're not, you will have to bear the consequences," He jeered, the rest laughed.

I shuddered at that faint memory; it frightened me even though that was 10 years ago. But my darling that was not the worst part, the worst part was when I had returned home, bawling. I had told the story to my father who stared at me with utter disgust. I still remember his words clearly as though it was yesterday:
"I don't blame them Gerard. I would have done the same thing if I had met a queer like yourself. You should man up, boy! Stop crying like a baby, stop acting like an odd, weird fool, and STOP BEING SUCH A COWARD!"
He would yell, then beat me mercilessly while laughing diabolically to teach my how to be a "man" and stop being such a coward. Month after month this would carry on, things got worse and I had carried scars from these experiences until today at the age of 18. As he realized what he was doing had no affect and he was not able to change me, he simply walked out. He had left me, my mum, and my little brother Mikey to fend for ourselves. Mikey had been young then. About 7, he didn't really understand the situation.

After my dad left, that was when I had developed my haphephobia. Everytime someone touches me I feel like my skin was sent on a thousand flames and I screamed. Mikey was the only one that had understood. He had loved me, when no one did. I had a feeling my mum hated me; she blamed me for the departing of my horrid father. And everytime she would constantly tell me how selfish and terrible I was for not being able to touch Mikey or comfort him at his time of need like any other big brother would do for his younger sibling. She told me it was affecting him physiologically, it made me feel guilty but I just couldn't stand someone touching me. It was tearing my up inside.

One particular evening when I was about the age of 17, everything suddenly took a turn for the worse. Mikey came home from school crying his eyes out. I was huddled in my dimly lit room on the corner, drawing in my sketchpad as I heard low, creaking noises from downstairs, and the sound of the front door slamming shut. It startled me as panicked thoughts of getting robbed flashed through my mind. But my bedroom door swung open, and in rushed a weeping Mikey.

I had tried to verbally comfort him, console him. But so suddenly I was pulled into an immense bear hug, even before my mind processed what was happening. A burning feeling over washed my body and I had started to panic. Hyperventilating, I pushed Mikey away. I pushed him a little too hard without intending to. He collapsed on the floor with a loud thump and continued sobbing, horrified at my sudden outburst. My mum had come in then, she had witnessed Mikey's fall, his hysterical sobs, and she stood there motionless and shocked for a second or two. As she got over her shock, rage and fury flashed on her face. I still remember her hurtful words as till now. She yelled and screamed at me about how selfish I was for getting Mikey to grow up without any physical contact with his older brother. She told me how it was my fault my dad had walked out on us. She told me how Mikey didn't deserve all of what I was doing to him. Guilt started eating me up, as I felt hot tears well up in my eyes. I felt dizzy and sick, until soon enough, darkness was all that consumed me.

This is how I ended up in this prison-like hospital. I had a severe panic attack, and they needed to keep me here for a few days to make sure my heart would be perfectly working, that they did not want to risk me having a heart attack or such.

It got worse, I would get panic attacks often during the months and they had to keep postponing my check out date. I had been in the hospital for nearly a month when I heard my mum talking to the doctor.
"I don't want him anymore; he is causing so much misery for me and Mikey. I can't deal with him anymore," I heard her muffled voice from behind the door.
"I'm terribly sorry for your son Mrs. Way," the doctor said. "We'll get him a little better, then send him off to a phobia institution. To help him get over his haphephobia, then we'll send him back to you."
"No, I don't want him anymore," I heard her say. Someone was crying frantically. It must have been Mikey.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing; I DIDN'T want to believe it either. Mum can't possibly be giving up on me, right? I have no one, nothing else. I don't want to be stuck in this prison forever. Suddenly, the door to my room burst open and in came Mikey. Who looked absolutely…. terrifying? His eyes were vast, red and swollen from obvious crying, he rushed my by side. "I love you Gee," he choked. "I don't want to leave you! Please mum, I can't lose him, you can't give up on him!" He screamed. I silently wept. Mikey emerged closer to me, I wished with all my heart I could hug him right now, but I couldn't, it was KILLING me. He was by my side now, and I feared he would hug me again, I shut my eyes. I felt a soft tug on my hair, and opened my eyes. It was Mikey, he knew he couldn't touch me, so that soft little tug and that painful smile said it all. It said Goodbye. I gave his hair a little tug back. "Please mum," he whimpered.
She sighed heavily, almost annoyed. "We have to go now Mikey."
"No," Mikey breathed. "NO NO NO!"
"I said come NOW Michael!" She said more sternly, angry. She dragged him out forcefully.
"Mum," I whimpered. It came out as a low painful whisper, but she heard me.
"It's Mrs. Donna Way to you now!" She snapped. She was……disowning me? She gave Mikey one last tug and dragged him out of the room, the 16 year old was sobbing furiously, crying out my name. The door slammed shut. And that was the last I have ever heard of Mikey and Mum. It had been 7 months now, Mum didn't allow Mikey to call or visit. Sometimes we used to sneak phone calls, but after she discovered about 5 months ago, it had never happened again and me and Mikey lost contact. I was stuck in this hell hole. I had lost trust in everything, everyone. It felt like anyone I talked to was out to get me, to destroy me even more, to completely shatter my broken spirit even thought it was crumbled up far from fixing. Just like everyone in the previous years did. Over these months, several people started to call me mad, insane. I wasn't though, I was perfectly normal, how dare they say I was mad?

I swayed my head back and forth, humming. I ignored the nurse's scolding, I couldn't sleep. She obviously got so annoyed she called in one of the male nurses. His name was Brock; he was in his mid thirties, He was HUGE, and his appearance scared me. He gave me an annoyed sneer and I rolled my eyes. As he opened his mouth to scold me even more, it was momentarily shut tight as the sound of pure angelic chords filled the room. Brock's eyes shut tightly and his lips twitched into a small faint smile. Taking in the beautiful, angelic sounds of the chords, someone began to sing. My jaw dropped as I began taking in the soft, sweet seraph- like voice.

Burning on just like a match you strike to incinerate
The lives of everyone you know
And what's the worst you take
From every heart you break
And like the blade you stain
Well I've been holding on tonight

What's the worst thing I could say?
Things are better if I stay
So long and goodnight
So long and goodnight

Brock smiled. I just stared ahead at him, listening intently as I slowly took in the voice. Brock noticing my shocked, dumbfounded expression and he chuckled softly. "That’s Frank Iero," he informed me." He's the……"special" one here, you could say. Amazing, isn't he? He;s actually better at guitar than at singing. He has real talent y'know?" Brock said softly.
"Tell me about him," I simply said in a low whispered tone.
"His dad was a cancer patient here; he was also one of the greatest guitarists in history. Frank's mom had left them while Frank was at a very young age. His dad took great care of him though over all these years, despite his cancer, playing the guitar was their passionate way of connecting," Brock explained.
"How do you know so much?" I asked suspiciously.
"Well, his father's cancer kept getting worse, he was moved here. On his last day, he was on his hospital bed his face showing no other expression than agony, Frank was sobbing hysterically by his side. His father shushed him, regardless of his state he sat up painfully and slowly, ordered Frank to pick up his guitar as he picked up his own, and they just played, they kept playing until the guitar dropped from his father's hands." Brock broke off at the sounds of Frank playing and singing another verse. No words could describe my feelings right now.
My Expression?: O _____O

Came a time
When every star fall brought to you tears again
We are the very hurt you sold
And what's the worst you take
From every heart you break
And like the blade you stain
Well I've been holding on tonight

Tears fell from my eyes, as I wondered how the sound of such a heavenly voice could make me feel like this. I had never experienced this before. I felt calm, serene, and happy. I continued to listen intently as Frank came to a stop. I feared he would stop playing, but he carried on with another song, yet he did not sing. Brock smiled again.
"This song is called Early Sunsets Over Monroeville, he doesn't sing in that song, but he plays it far too well," He informed me.

I felt like it was all too familiar and I found myself gently singing the lyrics myself.
Late dawns and early sunsets, just like my favorite scenes
Then holding hands and life was perfect, just like up on the screen
And the whole time while always giving
Counting your face among the living

Up and down escalators, pennies and colder fountains
Elevators and half price sales, trapped in by all these mountains
Running away and hiding with you
I never thought they'd get me here
Not knowing you'd change from just one bite
I fought them all off just to hold you close and tight

Brock chuckled softly while getting up. "You're good singer, kid. But make sure you get some sleep," With that he got up and left, but not without glancing backwards and giving me a smile. Frank continued to play I continued to sing.




But does anyone notice?
But does anyone care?
And if I had the guts to put this to your head...
But would anything matter if you're already dead?
And well should I be shocked now by the last thing you said?
Before I pull this trigger,
Your eyes vacant and stained...

Hours past and he continued to play, and sing songs I did not know of. I just kept on intently listening with all my heart. What seemed like moments after, he stopped. I felt tears well up in my eyes, and I allowed them to run freely down my sickly pale cheeks. How long has it been since I felt like this? A pretty long time, it must be. This feeling felt alien. But finally I shut my eyes, my mind finally shut up, and I drifted away into the blissful world of sleep.

A week had passed since the night I first heard Frank play. He had talked to me alot, told me that he heard me sing along to what he was playing, and that I had a beautiful voice. My heart did a little leap at those comments, and I had felt myself blush. I couldn't help grin.

Strange things have been happening though, I had started to realize that Frank had total control over my emotions, I didn't understand how or why. Everytime I heard Frank cry in his room, I felt sad and angry. I wanted to hurt whoever made him feel like this. When Frank laughed, I laughed. When Frank played, I was sucked into a world of heavenly bliss. But that wasn't a good thing. How long will it be until he keeps playing with my emotions, uses it against me, then totally shatter of what I had left of sanity? He was going to play with my feelings; he was going to destroy me. I couldn't let that happen, I had already experienced everyone in my life leaving me, breaking me, slowly destroying me, and I tried so hard to rebuild myself, I can't let anyone shatter me all over again. Because this time, I feared, I wouldn't be able to re-fix myself.

What if I destroy Frank first before he destroys me? Yes, that’s what I'll do. That little kid thinks he's so smart, eh? There was a foreboding feeling that came across my mind when I first saw him in person. I had made up my mind then. I was going to kill Frank Iero.

I walked down the hallways to room 341. That was Frank's room. I slowly knocked on the door and allowed myself entrance when I heard the muffled, "Come in." I slowly walked in to find Frank sitting on his bed, he had a notebook infront of him and he was writing what seemed to be song lyrics. As he saw me, his face lit up like a 5 year old kid on Christmas Eve. My heart leaped, that was my point exactly, another reason why Frank Iero was out to get me.

"I wrote something, I called it The Mortician's Daughter. Can you listen to it and tell me if it's good or not?" He smiled. I nodded eagerly. Frank began singing instantly:

I will wait dear
A patience of eternity, my crush.
A universal still, no rust.
No dust will ever grow on this frame,
One million years, I will say your name.
I love you more than I can ever scream.

We booked our flight those years ago,
I said I loved you as I left you.
Regrets still haunt my hollow head
But I promised you, I will see you again, again.

I sit here and smile dear.
I smile because I think of you, I blush.
These bleeding hollow dials, this fuss.
The fuss is made of miles and travel,
The roadways are but stones and gravel.
A bleeding heart can conquer every crutch.

We booked our flight those years ago
You said you loved me as you left me.
Regrets still haunt your saddened head,
But I promised you I will see you, again

As Frank played the final note, my heart stung and tears streamed down my face. I couldn't take this anymore, I couldn't bear it. I leaned in. "Gerard what are you-" But he was interrupted by the feeling of my hands gripping his throat. I squeezed harder, Frank looked shocked and tried to scream but failed miserably, all I could hear were the sound of me throttling, strangling him. Seconds later, his eyes shit close. The choking sounds stopped, he was no longer breathing. Then it struck me, what have I done? I released his throat almost instantly as I snapped out of it and Frank's body fell in my arms. Numbness was all I could feel now.

I layed there frozen for about 10 minutes, my eyes wandered to a bottle of sleeping pills on Frank's bedside table. I numbly stood up and made my way to there. The sound of angered thunder was slowly building up, and a few treacherous flashes of lighting appeared in the window, momentarily the lights went out. Not caring, I picked up the bottle of sleeping pills and took a last glance at Frank, who layed there sprawled dead. As I grabbed the first handful, I yelled: "Here's to you Frankie, my first ever friend," I swallowed, my head suddenly felt dizzy. I slumped on the floor and darkness consumed me.

Maybe I was a little mad after all.


_______

Quick A/N: Hey guys, its Hana :) I just wanted to say that the purpose of me writing this one-shot was for my English Story and hopefully my teacher Ms.Kathleen won't get too weirdened out considering she it pretty weird herself :3 I dedicated this story to my best friend. I love you, oh and please R&R It makes my day really. x3



UPDATE: HEY GUYS GUESS WHAT???!!! XD XD I GOT AN A ON THIS!!! A FUCKING A!!!!

~Hana

xoxo