Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > I've got a dirty, little secret.. Or maybe one to many.9 Reviews
Frank's coming to grips with what he's done.
Also, has my writing slipped? I feel as if it has. I haven't been getting as much feedback, and I'm just loosing faith in my ability..
He's reminiscing about what had happened today. It had probably been the worst day of his life. Worse than when he found a broken Sweetpea, worse than when he was put into hospital due to being shoved in a locker for so long, worse than when Jamia died, worse than when Gerard drank his sorrow away so many years ago... and the other day.
Suddenly, as the wind hits Franks face harshly, scraping against his skin, a tear falls down his cheek. He knows they all happened because of him.
He beat Sweetpea.
He tried to stand up for himself.
He murdered her.
He didn't find the diary in time, but Gerard did.
Everything is his fault. Everything. Anything he could have possibly have blamed on someone else, everything he did blame on someone else, is his fault. It was only now that he realized; not only did he want to die.. but he deserved it. Frank's a bad man. He brought pain and suffering to those around him. So much pain.
And he brought pain to himself.
That's something he can't deal with anymore. He really can't live with it.. the guilt, the pain, the sorrow, the self-loathing. Especially the guilt; he's swimming in it.
As his eyes glaze over, mind checking out, he takes a step closer to the edge.
Frank Iero is going to die.
His heart rate increases and he smiles. Is that a sick thing to do? Smile because your going to kill yourself? He finally decides, after minutes of endless, buzzing thoughts, that it isn't considering everything he has done. As he had thought before: he deserves it. He deserves this.
The howling wind pounds against his face, sending a train of shivers around his body. He's freezing, but his veins are almost glowing in their heat.. they are the only things left that are warm due to the blood. However, to Frank, it doesn't feel that way. His veins feel ill, almost. He's a cold-hearted killer, therefore, his blood seems cold to him.
It isn't logical, but in Frank's current state of mind, it makes perfect sense.
As a silent tear leaks from his glassy eyes, he sniffs, wiping away a drop of rain that has landed on the tip of his nose. More and more pelt down on him, decreasing his body temperature even more as he takes another step towards the edge.
Slowly but surely, Frank is increasing how positive he is on suicide. With each step he takes, the more willing he gets. He's about a foot away from the ledge, and in two steps, he'll fall from New Jersey's tallest building.
"You need this," he tells himself, in a little less than a whisper. "You want this."
Inwardly scoffing, he realizes what a hypocrite he sounds like. Frank had always said suicide is not the answer. Nothing's worth dying for.
But he doesn't care.
Because, in some fucked up way, he has managed to convince himself that with his circumstances, it's different. He's crazy; a murderer, and he soon will be all alone. That is.. if he isn't going to commit suicide.
But, he's going to.
He's going to fall down and down.. into a beautiful, seductive abyss. So, he takes another step forward, mere millimeters from the edge.
Frank nods, he's ready. He deserves this.
The pain will leave.
You will die.
Other's pain will leave.
They will live.
It's perfectly logical to him; kill himself, and everyone will be much better without him. So much better. They'll be free of the pain he's caused, and will cause. They'll hate him, but he wont have to watch. And most importantly, the main factor, and what he's told himself all along, is that he deserves this.
Closing his eyes, heart and mouth, he relaxes every muscle in his body as the rain pounds down on him. It soaks his hair, drips down his face, sticks his clothes to his body, and relaxes him even further. Shuddering once more, he leans his body weight forward as he steps, prepared for his death, but suddenly..
"Frank, oh shit! Fuck, fuck! I'm so glad I found you! Oh fuck! Ray! Ray!" Frank opens his eyes as he's tugged backwards, greeted by the sopping wet chest of Mikey. He's wearing his Anthrax tee, his face holding nothing but pure fear and concern. "What the fuck were you thinking? When Gerard hears about this-"
Frank bursts into tears and hugs Mikey back. Gerard wont know. He's already in the tempting, beautiful abyss of death that Frank was just seconds away from joining him in..
"Frank, you scared the shit out of me! I read the text you sent me.. and I just.. Oh dear God, Frank! How could you?!" Mikey asks, holding the younger man tightly.
Frank's knees go weak, and in his blubbering state, he clings to his best friend for dear life. "I'm sorry!" he gasps in between sobs. "I couldn't deal with this! I couldn't!" Tears hurriedly leak down his pale face and mix with the icy rain, dripping onto his lips and down his chin.
Rain drops fall from his hair and trickle down his skin, exploding on the floor with the rest of the pounding droplets.
"Don't do that again," Ray wheezes, panting as he rushes out of the fire exit at the top of the building. He sprints over to his friends, rather clumsily, and pulls them both into a huge hug. "Why.. why would you want to do that Frank?" Ray sniffs, squeezing water from his afro. "Is it because of Jamia?" he adds softly, face painted with sympathy and, much to Frank's dismay, empathy.
He doesn't want Ray to feel what he was feeling, that's why he was going to kill himself!
Before he's even able to contain himself, Frank blurts out all his thoughts and emotions, then decides to tell them about his illness and how bloodthirsty it is. Panicking, he gives a few examples.
The two men are speechless, they don't know how to respond at all. They want to say something, tell him it'll be okay.. but they can't do that. They don't know that's true.
"And.." Frank sniffs, not bothering to wipe away his salty tears as he sits shakily, knees tucked up to his chest, "I.." Deep breath. "I.." He cries out in pain, his heart shattering, and falls to his knees. Frank bursts into even more sobs, causing the two men to pull him into a huge hug again.
How do you fix someone so broken? What do you say to someone so broken?
"I killed Gerard," he whispers, his eyes widening, a look of pure terror on his face. As he sits frozen to the spot, more tears rush out of his eyes, his black lashes shining from the build up of un-shed tears.
"You.. you what?" Mikey asks, tears of his own now leaking down his face. He mustn't of heard him properly, that was it. He didn't hear him properly.
Frank shifts so he's sitting on his ass. "I k-killed Gerard," he repeats shakily, bursting into a flood of tears. "I didn't mean to! It was my other personality! I didn't want to, I didn't mean to! I didn't mean to, I didn't, I..!" Gasping and crying in even more pain, Frank shouts frantically, repeating that sentence over and over again, and then sobs into his knees.
Tears running down their faces, hearts broken by the news, (and the state of their friend), the two men look to each other.
Ray nods, cradles Frank in his arms and carries him away, back to the house where Gerard lies lifeless, his blood staining the floor.
I really hope you like this! :D
There's only one more chapter.. du du dun....