Funerals are always sad...
I'm so sorry it's taken me ages to upload. My internet has been down all week :(
But on the bright side... I've finished school now until September, so updates should be olot more frequent. Thank you all for your reviews on my previous chapters. Enjoy :)
The weather was strange today. It wasn't cold and raining, yet it wasn't warm either. There wasn't a single cloud in the murky, blue sky. Iawoke, lying in Gerard's bed for a while, not wanting to go through with the day ahead. I turned to see Gerard awake beside me. His warm eyes locked in to mine.
"Morning." He said quietly.
I couldn't bring myself to speak; instead I just let my eyes flood with tears.
"It's okay Frank, everything will be fine. I promise."
Today was the day I'd been dreading. My Mom's funeral. Istill wasn't over the shock of her death; her last words replayed themselves in my head every night as I tried to sleep.
"I don't know if I can get through today, seeing all my family for the first time in years. They know nothing about me, and they'll just spend their time pitying me. I don't want their pity." I cried even harder, not even bothering to wipe away the tears.
"Frank, funerals are always hard, but I'll be there with you, right at your side." Gerard's words were comforting. I knew I couldn't not turn up to my own Mother's funeral, she deserved better than that.
"Thanks." I mumbled. We lay still for as long as possible, until we had to get up and ready.
"Gerard?" I whispered, wiping the tears from my eyes. "Would you sing at the funeral? Please?"
I knew Gerard was anxious about singing in front of a crowd, but his voice really was beautiful; my Mom would have loved it. He took a deep breath.
"Sure." He smiled. "What would you like me to sing?"
I shifted awkwardly.
"Well, I-I wrote her a song." I said quietly. "But I don't know if it's any good.
"Can I hear it?"
I nodded slowly before picking up my guitar. I cleared my throat.
"I never, said I'd lie and wait forever. If I died we'd be together. I can't always just forget her, but she could try." I looked up at Gerard. He smiled and gestured for me to continue, giving me a bit more confidence. "At the end of the world, or the last thing I see, you are never coming home, never coming home. Never coming home, never coming home. Could I?Should I?" I croaked the last word as my eyes flooded with tears once more.
"It's beautiful." Gerard said, pulling me in to a tight hug.
"So, would you sing that for her? I really want her to hear your voice - even if she can't really hear it."
"Of course I will."
"Frank? It's time honey." Gerard called from downstairs. Ilooked out of the bedroom window at the hearse parked below. My Mother's coffin was surrounded with bouquets and reefs; her body lying silently inside.
"This is it." I said to myself.
I stood in front of the mirror. My face was sunken and ghastly pale. My eyes sore, red with old black eyeliner smudged messily around them. You could hardly tell the colour of my irises, my eyes were too bloodshot.
I slowly made my way down the stairs to where Gerard and Mikey stood, waiting. They looked almost identical as far as clothing was concerned.
I took a deep breath and approached them.
"Okay." I said. "Let's go."
The journey to the church itself was silent. I'd managed to keep my tears inside my eyes, for now at least.
After a few unhappy reunions with people who claimed to be related to me, the service started. It wasn't long before it was my turn to speak. I stood up, loosing Gerard's hand for the first time that day, walking up to the podium; my whole body shaking.
"I couldn't have asked for a better Mother than my Mom. She was always so supportive; such a kind, loving person. She helped me through the worst periods of my life, I just wish that she was here to help me get through today. But I know that she wouldn't want me to spend the rest of my life unhappy and depressed, she always wanted me to be happy. And I was happy, for the first time in so long. I've met an amazing guy, and have more friends here than I have ever had. So why did she have to be taken from me?" The tears were trying to escape my eyes, but I knew I had to finish my speech before Icompletely broke down.
"So, to show how much I loved her, and will continue to love her, I wrote her this song. It's called 'The Ghost Of You' and I'd like my boyfriend Gerard to sing it for her." Gerard stood and walked over to me. My eyes were now fixated on my Mother's coffin. "This is for you Mom, I hope you like it."
Gerard handed me Pansy, and started to sing.
Once the song was over, I noticed many people were crying. My first thought was that they all hated it, but then I saw their sad, sympathetic smiles place upon their faces.
"I would also like to thank you all for coming here today and for paying your respect, she loved you all. I love you Mom." I blew a kiss to the coffin and turned to walk back to my seat.
However the sound of the church door abruptly slamming open caused me to stop dead in my tracks. A drunken man staggered in to the church, taking a long swing from the can in his hand.
It was my Dad.
"Bullshit!" He screamed. "How can you even say that you loved her? It's your fault she's dead!"
Everyone was staring at him in shock. Not only had he just swore in a church, but he'd also gate-crashed my Mother's funeral! He stormed up the aisle towards me. My brain was screaming at me to move, but I just couldn't. It was as if I was glued to the spot.
As my Dad lunged at me, Gerard grabbed hold of my arm, pulling me out of the way.
"Get away from my son you fucking fag!"
I was crying uncontrollably now, how dare he speak to Gerard like that. He then turned his attention back to me.
"If you weren't fucking gay, then she never would have left!It's your fault. YOU KILLED HER!" A few people tried to hold my Father back as he tried to reach me. Yet he was too strong. He was thrashing about, punching anyone who got close. Gerard shielded me as my Dad started to approach. But there was no way I was going to let Gerard get hurt.
"I think it would be best if you left. Everyone here is mourning, not just you, stop being so selfish." Gerard spoke so polite to my Dad, whose face turned up with disgust.
"Mourning? You think I'd waste my time mourning over a bitch like her? God! She was nothing special, in fact, I regret ever meeting her. It's her fault I have a faggot for a son. I'm glad the fucking whore is dead!"
I ran at him, knocking his drunken body off guard. He fell to the ground. I pounced on him, throwing punches at his face. Once he gained realisation as to what had just happened, my Father grabbed my wrists, squeezing them tightly.
"You know, I never did like you." He spat. "Looks like you'll be joining your Mother soon enough."
Pain suddenly seared through my left wrist; the fucking asshole had snapped it. I yelled out in pain.
Gerard was behind me, attempting to pry me from my Father's grip. Finally, with the help of five others, I was away from him. Gerard hugged me tightly, whilst I clung to my wrist trying to relieve a bit of the pain.
My Dad was now being restrained by several people, yet he still thrashed about, struggling to get free.
The distant sound of sirens grew closer, until three Police cars and an Ambulance pulled up outside the church. It seemed as though my Father would finally be arrested, however somehow he managed to escape the grasp of the five people holding him. The next thing I saw was him charging towards me, then pain. Pain. It shot through my head like a bullet.
Then I blacked out.
A small family sat in the centre of a park. Two children, a boy and a girl, and their parents. They were sitting on a small picnic blanket, eating cupcakes and drinking lemonade.
The little boy suddenly stood up, picking up his football, looking at his Dad with puppy dog eyes. His Dad sighed happily and stood up. The girl and the Mom started laughing as the man pretended to stretch- preparing for the hardcore match.
I watched them play for about ten minutes, before the Dad became out of breath and had to sit down. The little boy started laughing at his Father's attempts to be a professional footballer.
I couldn't quite hear what the family were saying, but they were all laughing. Genuine laughs.
I couldn't remember the last time I laughed.
"You wish you were that little boy." Someone whispered.
I looked around but there was no one there. Just a voice.
"You wish your parents loved you like that."
Jealousy struck through my body. I suddenly felt hatred towards the family. I wanted to march over there and tear them away from each other.
I grabbed my hair, pulling it harshly with my fingers.
"You wish you had a family."
The voice got something right.
"You wish you had a Mom that was alive and a Dad that loved you."
"I know!" I screamed. "I know! I know! I know!"
No one in the park even lifted their heads. It was as if I was invisible; not even there.
"But you'll never have a family."
Never have a family
Never have a family
Never have a family...
It smelt, like some sort of anaesthetic. I doctor surgery perhaps? As my eyes flickered open, I was blinded by the brightness of the room. The walls were completely white; no windows, wallpaper or picture frames.
A faint bleeping sound could be heard, but I couldn't yet decipher what it was.
My head and wrists hurt, however I couldn't quite remember why.
"Frankie." Someone whispered. "You're awake, thank God you're awake."
"Frankie?" I asked. "Why is that name so familiar?" I slowly turned my head to look at the source of the voice.
The boy looked like an angel. What with his pale skin and beautiful dark hair. Not to mention those dazzling green eyes.
"Oh God!" The person screamed. He ran to the door. "Help!Please somebody needs to help him." He was crying now. I felt bad, I didn't want my angel to cry, why was he crying.
I could still feel the pain in my left arm. I looked down revealing that my whole wrist was in plaster. The cast was covered in tiny artistic scribbles, and then 'Gee loves Frankie' written in every other possible space.
A woman dressed as a nurse entered the room and walked over to the beautiful creature. She stood fairly close to him, causing a sting of jealously to run through my veins.
"He doesn't remember, please, you have to get his memory back." The angel pleaded.
"It isn't unusual for a patient who has suffered head injuries such as Mr Iero's to experience minor memory loss." I heard the nurse say.
"So his memory will come back?"
"We ran tests when he was unconscious, and we have had patients with more severe injuries than Mr Iero's, who have recollected their full memory. I'm sure that if you just talk to him about himself that the memories will soon flood back." She turned and smiled at me before walking out.
"Frank? Do you know who I am?" The boy asked, cautiously approaching my bed side.
"Frank? Is that my name, Frank?" I asked, it suddenly occurred to me that I couldn't really remember anything about who I am.
"Yeah. I'm Gerard, do you remember me?"
"The name rings a bell, but I'm sorry, I don't really remember anything." I sighed.
'Gerard' took a deep breath.
"I'm your boyfriend." He said.
Boyfriend? Surely I'd remember if I had a boyfriend?
"My boyfriend? But you're so beautiful." I blushed as I said this.
"Not as beautiful as you." He whispered.
"I like your hair. Red, it's my favourite colour." I said happily.
Gerard stared at me.
"Only that." I sighed.
"So you don't remember anything else?" Gerard asked raising an eyebrow. I shook my head.
"Frank, you've been through so much recently, it's really hard for me to tell you this, but trust me okay, we'll get through it all together."
I nodded subconsciously.
Gerard sat on the hospital bed beside me, hugging me with one arm whilst stoking my hand with the other.
"Frank, your Mom recently died, in a car crash. Do you remember that?" Gerard asked.
"Died?" I croaked.
"Yes Frank, I'm terribly sorry."
"I can't remember her, what was her name?"
"Linda, Linda Iero"
I shook my head.
"No, I don't recognise that name." I sighed.
"Okay, well maybe you'll remember something else. She died on October thirty-first."
"Yes, I know that day." But "Why do I know that day?"
"It's Halloween." Gerard stated. Then he lifted my two hands, careful not to hurt my injured wrist. The word 'Halloween' was tattooed across my knuckles. "It's also your birthday." He whispered.
"She died on my birthday?" I muttered.
"Why can't I remember her? I feel sad, but I don't even know what she looked like. What happened to me?"
"There was an occurrence at her funeral. Your Father turned up-"
Anger bubbled through my stomach at the mention of my Dad.
"I hate him." I said suddenly, not even thinking. I let out a gasp. "But why do I hate him? I'm so confused!"
"Frank, your Father's the reason you're in hospital." Gerard said quietly. "He turned up at your Mother's funeral; drunk. He started shouting abuse about your Mother, and then he attacked you. He snapped your wrist. Then he pounced on you, he hit you hard over the head and you- you fell unconscious. I was so scared, I thought that maybe you, that you were dead."Tears welled up in Gerard's eyes as he spoke. "I'm sorry I couldn't stop him from hurting you. I promise nothing will ever harm you again."
"Sirens, I remember sirens. There was a group of people holding a man on the ground. That's all I can see." I said, trying desperately to picture the scene. But I couldn't even tell where it was. Yes it was probably the church where my Mom's service was held, but I still didn't recognise it.
"Yeah, your Father was being restrained whilst the Police were on their way."
"So he's in jail now?" I asked. Something about the way Gerard spoke was wrong.
"Frank, I'm sorry but, he- he got away."