::SAD FRERARD ONESHOT::
I walk along the ice and snow, watching the dark blues and dead hues swirl together. It's so cold and bitter, so numbing. It's hard to find a dark place to sit, the moon's reflection so bright in the dead of night. Nostalgia comes and directs me toward the place I haven't been in so long. Our little haven, our paradise from the outside world. I remember how we used to go there when we were kids, letting our imaginations take us as we made up games and always found some way to amuse ourselves. Just you and I. That's how it's always been.
I pick up speed and take a turn into the trees, finding myself in a distantly familiar place. Memories flood over me, making me want, need, to get there quicker. We were always different, the outcasts, the misunderstood. But that never mattered, because we had each other. I guess that's how I got myself into this situation in the first place. I depended on you far too much. And look where that's gotten me.
Finally, I see it. To others it's only a simple clearing in the middle of the forest, but it's our place. I sit against the tree that we carved our names in, taking comfort in the cold seeping through my jeans. Gerard and Frank, friends forever.
I'll be leaving soon, but you don't know that. I've already let us get too close. If I don't go now, my sins will take away your innocence, tainted by the poison that is me. Trust me, it'll be so much better off this way.
I love the darkness. It's so easy to hide who you are in the night. It's so much harder for your eyes to burn into my soul, revealing my sickness. My eyes always gave me away, but I guess that's changed somewhere along the way. For you never suspected anything. I wonder if that's how I really wanted it. I never liked hiding things from you, but with this, there was no option.
Maybe one day you'll forgive me. I can only hope. The wind has picked up and the clouds are taken away, leaving only the stars. They remind me of your eyes, always shining, lighting up as you smile. Oh, how I'm going to miss your smile.
I stand up and, after looking up at the dark sky, head back to the house where you and the guys are sure to be sleeping. I'm numb, which I can only take for a good thing. If I were able to feel any of the pain I know is there, I'd never be able to leave. This time, I take my time, wanting to delay the inevitable as much as I can. I'll hate myself in the morning.
Stepping into the house carefully, so as to not make much noise, I walk to your doorway. You're lying curled up in the mass of blankets, trying to keep warm as you dream peacefully. Your face is so content, trusting that everything will be the same when you awake. Knowing if I don't go soon, I'll never go, I reluctantly turn away from you and tiptoe to Mikey's room and whisper goodbye to my brother. I grab my bag, and leave, only stopping to take another glance at my best friend.
The bus leaves in half an hour. I return to our place, to our tree, and reach into my pocket, taking out the knife. When I'm through, I go to the bus station, where I wait. I take out my sketch book and look at the drawing of you, your eyes twinkling, your smile breathtaking, frozen in time, forever etched into my memory.
Will there be a place in your heart for my memory?
I can't believe you're really gone. Just like that. It's been two weeks since the night you left. Two weeks of moping and worrying, of hoping you'd show up on our doorstep. The only sleep I've gotten were the occasional hours that I'd pass out from exhaustion. I can't bring myself to sleep, naively thinking that if I sleep, I'll miss you coming back. Deep down I know that won't happen, because you're never coming back are you?
I spend nights sneaking out of the house and walking around town, hoping to find some forgotten memory of you. I'm afraid that eventually, I won't be able to remember you. That I won't be able to recall the way your honey eyes used to shine, how your pale face glowed in the night, how soothing your hold was when I was sad. Memories, like photographs, fade. But how long will mine last?
Bob and Ray don't know that I leave at night and Mikey's too caught up in his own grief to care. They think I stay locked in my room, but my room holds nothing for me now. They just don't understand. Even I don't understand why it hurts so much. You left your best friend here to rot alone. Somehow, it seems like much more than that, though.
It's only now that I realize the light in your eyes disappeared years ago. Sometime back, you stopped talking as much, stopped coming to me when you were depressed. You'd rather experience your pain alone, leaving me to worry what was wrong.
I didn't say anything, I didn't demand to let me help you. That's what best friends do, right? That's what I should have done. I wish I would have stopped somehow, I know I could have, but I did nothing. I watched you slowly die inside. In some way, I know it's partly my fault that you left. I only wish I knew why you thought you had to go.
It's late enough now. Everyone's gone to sleep, so I get my shoes and coat on and leave the house. Tonight's different, though. My feet take me away from town instead of towards it. Even before I hit the woods, I know that if anywhere holds memories of you, it's there. Our place.
That's when I see what the newly fallen snow couldn't hide. Your footprints. Why didn't I come here sooner? It's surprising that they're still noticeable, but no one ever comes here. That's the only reason I know they're yours. I finally make it to the clearing, noting that it's exactly like it was the last time we were here. Nothing's changed, except for the age of the eyes looking at it.
I lay on the snow covered ground looking up into the midnight sky trying to imagine what you thought about your last night here. Imagining exactly what went through your mind, what memories came back to you, or how long you laid here, just as I am now. Did it hurt you to leave?
It's the perfect place to spend a peaceful night. I know how much you loved the darkness, and most everywhere else is brightly lit up thanks to the combination of snow and moonlight. Do you remember when we used to pretend we were ghosts or vampires with capes, or when we'd make up stupid little games. It was so much easier back then.
It seems like I lie there forever, just thinking about how things used to be. Eventually, though, I get up to leave. Something catches my eye as I turn around. The tree with our message carved into it years ago. But that's not what grabbed my attention. There's something newly written, something I can't quite make out, so I slowly make my way to the tree.
I lift my hand to the bark, tracing the new words. Tears well in my eyes and all of my questions are answered at once. I drop to my knees sobbing, for under our oath of friendship, etched and lined in crimson on the pale wood is:
Gerard Loves Frank Forever.