Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > I've got a dirty, little secret.. Or maybe one to many.10 Reviews
Nervous Franks, questioning and bad news.
The window wipers swish across the screen, swiping every drop of rain out of our way.
I sigh, staring up at the glum sky as it looms over us. Several trees line the empty road and blend into the horizon.
I look to my left, Gerard's frowning at the gleaming Tarmac.
"You're going to be okay, you know," he says.
I simply grunt; how the hell am I going to be okay? What is okay about this situation?
I pull my phone out of my pocket, smiling slightly as I go to text - I freeze. She's dead, Frank. Dead.
My smile drops, shivers run down my spine and my eyes start watering. "Y-you don't think I k-killed Jamia.. Do you?" I'm shaking quickly, my voice is hoarse.
"Shit, I must have killed her! I can't deal with that, Gerard! I can't, I really, really can't. Fuck!" My hand crashes onto the dashboard, my best friend jerking as it slams down next to him.
"Calm down Frank. You'll be fine. Whatever this is, it's going to get fixed. I promise you," Gerard says, nibbling on his lip. It's started to bleed, although he doesn't notice; he's to wrapped up in his thoughts.
Nodding, I shove my phone back in the tight pocket of my skinny jeans then twiddle my fingers around each other anxiously. What if I'm seriously ill, crazy, mental? What if I'm not who I think I am? What if they send me away? Oh God.. I couldn't be away from the band, the fans or my friends.. I really, really couldn't.
"Frank!" Gerard's pulls over, now shaking me silly. "Frank, breathe!" he slaps my chest causing me to yelp and gasp. "Why the hell did you stop breathing?!"
"I got worried dammit!" I practically shout. "Just keep driving, I wanna find out what the fuck's wrong with me!"
Gerard scoffs, steering into the road.
We sit in silence for a few minutes, and I watch as people, cars, trees and houses rush past.
"I don't want you to make me angry," I whisper suddenly, tearing my attention from the road to his concerned face.
He raises his eyebrows as I look at him. "Because you think you'll.. I dunno.. change?" There's a tinge of fear in his voice which dampens my spirit even more.
He seems to notice my glum look, because he smiles sympathetically and rubs my shoulder. He quickly pulls up to our destination, though, and removes his comforting hand.
But I nod nevertheless, undo my seat belt and swing open the door.
"It'll be fine, Frank." He's at my side now, watching as I slam the door shut and walk towards the entrance. "I booked an appointment before we left, we're at half 12."
"Mmm," I mumble. I step through the automatic doors, Gerard following me close behind. I anxiously make my way to the front desk, tugging my shirt down.
The receptionist looks up and smiles flirtatiously. "Hi I'm Chloe, what can I help you with?" she asks.
"I've got an appointment? Frank Iero," I say hesitantly.
Pressing on her keyboard, Chloe's eyes scan the luminous screen. After a while, she nods. "Yes, here you are.. Half twelve, correct?" She doesn't wait for an answer. "Take a seat, Dr. Lemmings will be with you shortly."
As I turn around and mumble a thank you, I'm met by a light blue wall lined with chairs. There are several other patients sitting there. Some are fidgeting with their hands and clothes, others biting their lips, some just sit still.
Gerard and I sit on some chairs opposite a light wood door. I stare at the flat, dark blue carpet.
"So.. Are you nervous?" Gerard asks, his bright red hair falling in front of his eyes.
"Of course I'm freaking nervous! I'm about to find out that I'm crazy, Gerard!" Rolling my eyes, I twirl my thumbs around each other quickly and avoid his gaze.
"You don't know that," he says, shaking his head.
"You never said I wasn't," I state, looking up to him.
He's nibbling on his bottom lip, frowning slightly. "I know," he says.
"You don't honestly think-"
"Frank, define crazy," he interrupts.
I raise my eyebrows and shrug. "I don't know."
"Then how can I think your crazy?" he counters.
I sigh in exasperation, watching as the door swings open.
"Frank Iero?" asks a tall man. He's got glasses resting on the top of his nose, magnifying his piercing grey eyes. I stare at him bug-eyed before Gerard pulls my stiff body up and walks me over to the man.
"Do you want me to come in?" Gerard looks to, who I presume is, Dr. Lemmings. "He's a bit nervous."
"No.. No I'll be okay," I mumble. "You wait out here."
Gerard hesitantly sits back down and smiles at me reassuringly as I follow the doctor inside.
"Please, take a seat!" the doctor says, opening another door. He shuts it after me, and then sits in a big leather chair. I settle in opposite him, squirming as his gaze shoots through me. "I'm Dr. Lemmings," he tugs on his name tag, "and I'm going to be with you this session. I'll be taking notes, just to help me remember if you should return."
I gulp, nodding. "Alright." My throat's dry.
"So, Frank.. What's brought you here?" He smiles reassuringly, and then picks up a notebook and pen and watches me expectantly.
"Well, something's been wrong with me for a while, years in fact." I bite my lip and continue. "It's just I've only found out recently."
Dr. Lemmings nods. "Could you tell me what's been happening?"
"Well," I cough, fidgeting nervously. "Apparently I get violent outbursts - bloodthirsty outbursts, actually - and I can't remember them at all."
He gives an exaggerated nod as he writes something into the notebook. "Could you elaborate on bloodthirsty outbursts for me, Frank?"
"Well.. I..." I rub my lips together, now avoiding his gaze. "They're very violent. Apparently I've stabbed, raped, beaten.." I look back at him. He appears unperturbed.
"And you say you don't remember any of them?" he asks.
I nod. "Yes, none."
He scribbles something down again. "How did you find out about them?" he asks.
Now I'm sweating, hands twisting in my lap. "Last night when I came out of my 'episode,' I was holding a knife to my best friend's throat. And.. there's this diary."
"We can talk about the diary in a minute," he says. "Is this best friend in your story the gentleman outside?"
"Yes," I nod.
"Would it be okay if I could talk to him in private? You can take a seat out in the hallway."
I nod, excusing myself to get Gerard.
I push open the doctor's door and look inside. "Frank said you needed to talk to me?" I ask uneasily.
He smiles widely at me. "Yes! Please, take a seat. I'm Dr. Lemmings."
I shake his outstretched hand and sit in the seat opposite him.
He stares at me for a second, and then nods. "I'd like to talk about Frank's outburst last night."
"Oh, right," I mutter. "What about it?"
"Could you describe how he acted?" He leans his pen up, reading to scrawl down whatever I say.
"Okay.. Well, obviously, very frightening. He looked evil; manic. It was like he wasn't even the same person anymore. He changed completely. It just wasn't Frank."
Dr. Lemmings sighs and nods, dropping his pen. "That's all I need for now, thank you Gerard. If you could get his attention then return with him."
I nod, pulling Frank back into the room and watching as he takes a seat next to me.
"So, Frank," Dr. Lemmings smiles reassuringly. If this is what I think it is, these next questions I ask you shall determine whether I'm right. All you need to do is tell me yes or no."
Frank nods, hands nervously clutching each other. "Okay."
The doctor pulls a sheet out from his desk and smiles reassuringly. "Do you have any mannerisms or beliefs which aren't similar?"
"I suppose. I have a few.. I mean, I always clutch my hands like this," he lifts his hands in the air, "when I'm sitting down. However, when I'm standing up I always keep them to my sides. If they're not, I get really annoyed.. Is that the sort of thing you mean?"
Dr. Lemmings shrugs.
"Yes, kind of. Okay, next question." He looks down to the sheet and reads, "Do you get unexplained headaches or other pains?"
Frank nods immediately. "Yes, I get a lot of them. Shoulder joints and headaches."
Dr. Lemmings scribbles something down. "Okay, and do you suffer from severe memory loss?"
"Yeah, there's these gaps. I just ignored them before, just thought I was being stupid, but now I realize that in those gaps I must've.. changed somehow."
More writing from the Doctor. "Depression or unexplained phobias?"
"I take Prozac for my Depression. As for phobias.. I have one, I think."
Frank blushes, shaking his head. "I have an irrational fear of spiders."
"Okay, thank you for sharing that." Dr. Lemmings smiles broadly at Frank before jotting down some more notes. "Feelings of being watched?"
"Definitely. I just presumed it was paranoia from having such a large fanbase."
"So, you're famous?"
Dr. Lemmings probes further, even though Frank's looking very uncomfortable. "You mentioned Paranoia. Would you say your paranoid?"
"I think so," Frank replies.
"Panic attacks? Anxiety attacks?" Dr. Lemmings continues.
"Nope.. Well, I stopped breathing in the car..."
Dr. Lemmings takes his glasses off and drops them to his lap. He's sitting nervously as his gaze shifts from me to Frank. "Well Frank, I'm afraid I have some rather bad news..."
I'M SUCH A TEASE! Can anyone guess? Don't look up the symptoms, please? :3 :D
And here's a bit of bad news.
This story wont go on for much longer.. maybe four/five or six chapters. But it'll end rather interestingly.. but hey, I might make a sequel? Maybe. Eh, I don't know. I'd have to think what I'd write in it. Anyway.. R&R? :D