The first few days alone.
Three days later.
Frank was gone, along with his car. He could not get a hold of Mikey or Ray. He had no cell phone, no wallet, and no transportation to help either situation. The only thing Gerard found that he could do was draw small lines in his skin with razorblades and go for walks at night, because sleep was out of the question.
He could not remember the last time he slept.
Gerard had tried --- god knows he tried. But even if he could get past the odd, creeping sensation he would feel as he lay in the darkness, the only thing that awaited him in slumber was nightmares. Vivid dreams of being paralyzed, worms and maggots, Frank expressing his hatred and disgust for him.
A man in a black mask.
He's following me.
After a while, Gerard had decided that he would rather take his chances with sleep deprivation. He would cut when he felt himself falling asleep, the sharp ripping of his skin acting as an extra dose of caffeine. Yes, it hurt -- but it was still nowhere near as painful as lying in their bed alone. On the last half of the second day, he began to avoid their room all together.
I don't even know what I did wrong..
Gerard had begun to piece things together, of course. When he had taken off his pants from the party, he could see crusty white stains that coated the area of the crotch and buttocks. They stood out on the black fabric, and Gerard knew instantly what that crust was. His body ached for the entire first day, and in all the places he might have expected from certain activities. Yet it still made no sense -- why would Frank be angry at him if they had sex?
Unless Frank isn't the one who you had sex with.
He would never cheat on Frank. That was one thing that he did know, and one of the few things he was confident in. He loved Frank, and desired no other person in the entire world.
Too bad it looked like Frank had not felt the same way.
No, no --- he loves me. I know he does. He HAS to! I saw it in his eyes, the way he touched me -- just a few nights ago!
...what could have changed?
There was the big question. What changed? What could it have been that caused years of close friendship, and around a year of deep and passionate love to suddenly vanish? Every time Gerard found himself lost in this question, and the confusing road it led to, he grabbed the razor and ripped away.
He could not even begin to count how many little nicks and cuts he had made. None of them were too big, he was careful of that. He did not want to die, or put himself in grave danger - not just yet. A big part of him was still waiting for Frank to come home. Every motor heard outside sent him bolting to the window to look and see.
Maybe he'll have changed his mind?
He still took his pills. They were a way to escape from his emotions for just a little while. While Gerard caught on by now that his doctor had prescribed him more than he needed, he continued to take the same amount. The less he felt, the better.
And soon maybe I can start taking 40mg instead of 20.
...and then after that, I can start with 60mg.
...and maybe sometime, I'll just swallow the whole damn bottle.
The batch of little white tablets allured him each time he would look at them.
Come on...just take a little more.
I'll make you feel good.
His restraint was wearing thin. Being alone had always done treacherous things to Gerard's mind, which was something everyone close to him knew. He could not even begin to think how Frank could just ignore that fact -- unless he never really cared about him after all.
Yet Gerard was so certain in Frank's love based on past memories --- in the way they kissed, the way he held him, the way he cooked him meals, the way he always asked if he was hurting they whenever they made love, the way he made the nightmares go away, the way he would surprise him with hot chocolate and love notes --- that he could not make sense of this in any way.
It was thinking about those good memories, and then feeling the emptiness now -- that was biggest pain Gerard felt at the time, and it seemed like the sharpest pain he had ever experienced before. It was that combination that was his voice of temptation, telling him he needed the pills, telling him he needed the blade. He wanted to run away from it through sleep, but sleep only brought him to different monsters, some of them scarier than those of the conscious world.
There was nowhere to run -- except perhaps the slumber of eternity.
Maybe Frank would notice then. Gerard thought bitterly as he sucked on one of his fresher cuts, the blood tasting rich against his tongue. He had not eaten nor drank much as of lately. His grip on the self-control they had worked so hard to build together was slipping, and Gerard would admit that he wasn’t doing much to hold on to it.
Three days without him and you’re already letting everything fall apart?
Maybe that’s why he left you.
He realized how pathetic you are.
Pathetic and stupid.
Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid!
Gerard quickly grabbed the blade that he kept in his pocket and practically stabbed his upper forearm. He yelped as the tip dove in deeper than he expected. Blood came trickling down quickly, adding to the tiny red splatters on the floor. The white bathroom tiles were suddenly polka dotted with drops of crimson. It almost looked nice. Gerard stared at it, wondering if he might leave it that way as a new design.
Home decorating for the self loathing – now there’s an idea with potential.
Gerard cleaned off the blade with a small rinse in the sink. He let his arm continue to bleed, not bothering to cover it with anything. It was not like anyone was around to see, anyway. He left the room, walking himself over to the living room. His eyes averted their bedroom door as he passed it.
Plopping down on the couch, the setting sun blinded him slightly. He found the laptop on the coffee table, pulling it towards him and opening its lid. He did his routine check for emails from Frank, ignoring everyone else’s because none of them mattered anymore.
His heart sank as it did every single time he checked, even though he always tried to keep his expectations low.
Disappointment was inescapable.
He found Mikey’s email address instead, and opened up a new message. He began to type into the message field, only to erase, rephrase, erase, rephrase, and erase again. Finally he settled on two simple words:
A click went off as he hit Send. He refreshed his email again, received nothing, and backed away from the laptop.
Lying back on the couch, he felt the pills from thirty minutes ago begin to kick in. His body was wracked with the sensation of heaviness, his surroundings uncertain. His eyelids began to droop, and he quickly reached for the blade once more.
He had a hard time pulling it out, and an even harder time trying to lift it up to his arms. He looked over to his left and saw that the cut from earlier was still bleeding, a giant red stripe going down his skin.
He tried to lift the blade again, but his wrist was limp. Before he could bring its sharp edge to any bit of skin, he began to doze off. Their bright living room dissipated around him, leaving him in a dark abyss. A naked man awaited him there, a smirk under his black mask.
”Good boy, Gerard. It’ll be over soon.
Gerard felt something solid and fleshy ram into him. He jolted awake, his heart pounding in his chest. He looked around almost frantically, but saw no such thing, neither solid nor fleshy, that could have caused this sensation. He buried his blood smeared hands on his face and groaned loudly.
He needed more pills.