Frank gets caught.
I checked the clock. 2:46am. God damnit! I couldn't sleep. I was waiting for him to just pounce in here and torture me for trying to get away. He was after me. I knew it. I slipped silently out of bed, grabbing my pink washbag. I snuck out of the room, going into the bathroom and pushing it slightly behind me. I needed to do this. It was killing me. I fumbled through the bag, picking up the delicacy and perching on the edge of the bath. Where to start? A 'U' would be nice.
I groaned. Was it morning already? I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and checked the clock. Yes. It was morning. But a lot earlier then I'd have liked. 2:48am. Fuck! I got to my feet, opening the bedroom door and looking out. I wasn't sure what to do. I couldn't help but notice Franks door open ajar. I peeped in. But it was empty. So where was he? I looked down the corridor to see the bathroom light on, the door open slightly. Weird. We never left any lights on a night. Maybe Frank was in there? It didn't matter. I needed a cigarette. I snuck downstairs, not making a sound. I shouldn't smoke in the house but it would be too cold to go outside. I lit up my cigarette and took a drag. I could hear something. Moaning? No. It didn't sound out of pleasure at least. It was coming from the house. I rested my cigarette in an ashtray and snuck upstairs to take a look. Was Frank wanking? Good lord no. I hope not. It didn't sound like a moan of pleasure anyway. The light coming from the bathroom caught my eye. It had to be Frank. I stood outside the bathroom door, peeking through the crack. I could only see my new red sink. It sunk in seconds later. I don't have a new red sink. My sink is white. I pushed the door gently, to get a better look. Deep crimson blood glistened in the light. The sink was painted in the blood. It looked like something out of a horror movie and made me feel green. I then turned my eyes to a short man, dark hair. Frank. He was bleeding? Why? How?
I wanted to sound confident but I wasn't. It came out in a ragged whisper. Frank dropped something and spun around in horror to look at me. He was covered in the crimson liquid also. He just stared at me. He was deathly pale, horrible dark purple bags under his eyes and tear stained cheeks. He had blood smeared on his cheek and then his arm was thick with it.
"Frank?! What the fuck?!"
I said, louder this time. He winced.
He stuttered, looking confused. He hid his arm behind himself, trying to get it out of my view, but I saw. Four big deep incisions- the cause of the bleeding, I presume.
"You cut yourself?"
I was surprised. He didn't seem the type. He looked down, ashamed. I moved closer to him, pulling his arm out so I could get a better look. The deep cuts spelt something that brought tears to my eyes. Ugly. Frank cut 'ugly' into his arm. How could he think that? He was beautiful. Perfect. If I wasn't married I would definitely want a bit of Frank. I felt my tears dribble down my cheeks. How could he do this to himself? Frank plucked up the courage to talk.
"G-Gerard. P-please. Don't t-tell anyone?"
He begged. I looked up at him.
"Frank... You... Come on. We need to get this cleaned up."
I was confused. What of, I didn't know. I led him downstairs, he followed, sobbing quietly. I had so many questions for him. He sat on the sofa and I got the mini first aid kit. I kneeled in front of him.
"What did you use?"
That's what I started with. He stared at his knees. It took a while for him to respond.
His whisper was barely audible. I dabbed away some blood.
"Why'd you do it?"
This time I didn't get a response.
I repeated. He whimpered.
"I don't know."
"Don't lie to me."
"Gerard... I'm going to die, aren't I?"
He stared to sob. I sighed.
"No. Take you shirt off."
I told him. It was covered in blood. I needed to call an ambulance. He'd lost so much blood. He jerked away from me.
"You have to. Take it off!"
He didn't say anything. I watched him whilst he found an interest in his knees again.
"Your keeping secrets."
I whispered. I could see it in his eyes. Frank didn't looked at me.
"I have too."
He said, getting up. He got up, going up the stairs, leaving a trail of blood. I looked at the blood on my hands. Why didn't he trust me? I trusted him with everything! A thump snapped me out of my train of thought. Frank was laying at the bottom of the stairs, lifeless. I didn't know what to do. Was he dead? He fell down the stairs.
I yelled, hoping she would wake up. I ran to Franks aid. LynZ appeared at the top of the stairs.
"Shit! I'll call an ambulance."
She said, rushing off to find her mobile. I eased off Franks top to wrap around his arm. His body was covered in the biggest bruises I've ever seen. He had multiple scars over his chest and stomach. His body was hideous. Battered and bruised. I felt my heart break. That's why he wouldn't take his top off. My Frankie was being hurt. My Frankie was suffering.
A/N: Hey! :3 I dont know how good this chapter was D: I struggled writing it :L anyhow, I hoped you liked it! R&R please! :3 xxx