Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
8th Grade
4 ReviewsFrank's 8th grade crush doesn't go down so well. Inspired by 8th Grade by Pencey Prep.
Frank rubbed his tired eyes as he read over what he had just scribbled on a crumpled piece of paper he found on his filthy floor. His handwriting was messy and harsh, like daggers, but it fit. It fit how his heart was feeling, like it had thorns entwined into it, scratching away at the already sore and tired muscle.
Frank took in his surroundings. Dark blue walls were littered with posters of bands and comic book characters. His bed was messy as always, his old black and white striped sheets crumpled and creased. Clothes scattered everywhere; no one would be able to tell which were clean and which weren’t, not that Frank cared. His guitar, Pansy, stood proudly at the end of the bed, the cleanest thing in the room if Frank was honest.
The 14-year-old looked back down at the paper he had scrawled on and sighed. Every word of it was true. His feelings and emotions had poured out of him so quickly he hadn’t time to think about what he was writing.
~~~~~
Frank slumped down in his first period desk, which was at the back of the English room. As students filed into the dull room, Frank spotted him. The reason, other than the fact his Mum could barely pay for milk because they were so poor, that Frank was miserable was the boy who was sat chatting to his friends. His raven black hair was chin length and he had amazing hazel eyes. He wore his trademark leather jacket, black skinny jeans and Doc Martins. As Frank stared, the boy's girlfriend came up to him and kissed his cheek, “Hey G,” she said bending over, her far too mini skirt rising higher.
“Hey Lynz.” Gerard replied, a smile ever present on his face. As Gerard turned to look at his girlfriend of three years, he caught Frank staring. “What are you looking at faggot?” He grunts, getting up from his seat and moving closer to Frank’s tiny frame.
“Uh-uh, nothing Gerard. Just da-day dreaming.” He stutters out, blushing slightly, more from fear than embarrassment.
“Yeah? Well just in case,” Gerard’s fist collided with Frank’s jaw. Frank took the blow well, simply cringing and moving his hands to his face in reflex. “Let that be a warning Frankie.” The room burst into laughter at Frank’s misfortune.
The bell rang 45 minutes later and Frank made his escape to the locker rooms for gym. At least there he could hide from everyone, for a while. The beatings Frank was given every day were the same and all for the same reasons. He always wondered why they did it though, why they would beat him until he coughed up blood; it wasn't like their girlfriends could see how ‘tough’ they were I'm there.
Frank’s mother had often asked him why he didn’t just move schools, she knew what happened to him, he came home with new cuts and bruises every day he was at school. Truthfully, Frank didn’t know either. He hated his school, but he didn’t want to switch.
Frank hated what he had done. He knew falling for Gerard Way was a mistake from the minute he realised he liked him. He also knew that he couldn’t help who he liked. Gerard was good looking, everyone, including the man himself, knew he was. Furthermore, Frank knew that whining and screaming wouldn’t help him. Gerard beat him no matter what, no threat would deter him. Sometimes the blows didn’t even hurt, he received them so often pain had started feeling sort of nice; normal.
When everyone had left for gym, Frank lay down on the benches, holding his bruised eye. He knew that one day, he would rise above them all. One day, he wouldn’t be the one receiving, sometimes life threatening hits. He was going to stand up fucking tall and show the world he wasn’t scared. That he would rather die than be like them.
The school year was almost over, Summer was approaching and Frank was determined to never look back, to march on in life. It didn’t matter if he was kicked down, he would pick himself up and carry on. He wasn’t afraid to keep on living.
~~~~~
Frank looked back at what he had written again, the thoughts of the day whizzing through his mind. He was done being tormented and hurt for something he couldn’t control.
Caught staring again
Like a deer in the headlights
When I can't move fast enough
I take a hit for the team
Pretty girl is blushing
I can't tell if she's disgusted
Laughter starts to swell
Like someone gets the joke
Bell rings
I make my escape
It helps a little
But doesn't save
Beat down's a common thing
It happens every day
Maybe I'm just strange
Cause I don't change schools
Maybe I like the abuse
Or maybe I'm just like you
Another confrontation
You've got something to prove
Your girl can't tell how tough you are
When you beat me up in the boy's room
I made a big mistake
But I can't help who I like
This may not cost my life
But I am branded forever lame
This was not my decision
You were born with good looks
And a solid right hook
Whining makes no difference
You bruised my eye
It doesn't hurt at all
One day I'll rise above
And you will take a fall
I may be beat today
But I will survive
I'll get up off the ground
Stand tall and fight
My eyes don't hurt at all
I would rather die
Than be your whipping boy
School year's almost over
Summer is one day closer
As God is my witness
I will never be a victim again.
Frank took in his surroundings. Dark blue walls were littered with posters of bands and comic book characters. His bed was messy as always, his old black and white striped sheets crumpled and creased. Clothes scattered everywhere; no one would be able to tell which were clean and which weren’t, not that Frank cared. His guitar, Pansy, stood proudly at the end of the bed, the cleanest thing in the room if Frank was honest.
The 14-year-old looked back down at the paper he had scrawled on and sighed. Every word of it was true. His feelings and emotions had poured out of him so quickly he hadn’t time to think about what he was writing.
~~~~~
Frank slumped down in his first period desk, which was at the back of the English room. As students filed into the dull room, Frank spotted him. The reason, other than the fact his Mum could barely pay for milk because they were so poor, that Frank was miserable was the boy who was sat chatting to his friends. His raven black hair was chin length and he had amazing hazel eyes. He wore his trademark leather jacket, black skinny jeans and Doc Martins. As Frank stared, the boy's girlfriend came up to him and kissed his cheek, “Hey G,” she said bending over, her far too mini skirt rising higher.
“Hey Lynz.” Gerard replied, a smile ever present on his face. As Gerard turned to look at his girlfriend of three years, he caught Frank staring. “What are you looking at faggot?” He grunts, getting up from his seat and moving closer to Frank’s tiny frame.
“Uh-uh, nothing Gerard. Just da-day dreaming.” He stutters out, blushing slightly, more from fear than embarrassment.
“Yeah? Well just in case,” Gerard’s fist collided with Frank’s jaw. Frank took the blow well, simply cringing and moving his hands to his face in reflex. “Let that be a warning Frankie.” The room burst into laughter at Frank’s misfortune.
The bell rang 45 minutes later and Frank made his escape to the locker rooms for gym. At least there he could hide from everyone, for a while. The beatings Frank was given every day were the same and all for the same reasons. He always wondered why they did it though, why they would beat him until he coughed up blood; it wasn't like their girlfriends could see how ‘tough’ they were I'm there.
Frank’s mother had often asked him why he didn’t just move schools, she knew what happened to him, he came home with new cuts and bruises every day he was at school. Truthfully, Frank didn’t know either. He hated his school, but he didn’t want to switch.
Frank hated what he had done. He knew falling for Gerard Way was a mistake from the minute he realised he liked him. He also knew that he couldn’t help who he liked. Gerard was good looking, everyone, including the man himself, knew he was. Furthermore, Frank knew that whining and screaming wouldn’t help him. Gerard beat him no matter what, no threat would deter him. Sometimes the blows didn’t even hurt, he received them so often pain had started feeling sort of nice; normal.
When everyone had left for gym, Frank lay down on the benches, holding his bruised eye. He knew that one day, he would rise above them all. One day, he wouldn’t be the one receiving, sometimes life threatening hits. He was going to stand up fucking tall and show the world he wasn’t scared. That he would rather die than be like them.
The school year was almost over, Summer was approaching and Frank was determined to never look back, to march on in life. It didn’t matter if he was kicked down, he would pick himself up and carry on. He wasn’t afraid to keep on living.
~~~~~
Frank looked back at what he had written again, the thoughts of the day whizzing through his mind. He was done being tormented and hurt for something he couldn’t control.
Caught staring again
Like a deer in the headlights
When I can't move fast enough
I take a hit for the team
Pretty girl is blushing
I can't tell if she's disgusted
Laughter starts to swell
Like someone gets the joke
Bell rings
I make my escape
It helps a little
But doesn't save
Beat down's a common thing
It happens every day
Maybe I'm just strange
Cause I don't change schools
Maybe I like the abuse
Or maybe I'm just like you
Another confrontation
You've got something to prove
Your girl can't tell how tough you are
When you beat me up in the boy's room
I made a big mistake
But I can't help who I like
This may not cost my life
But I am branded forever lame
This was not my decision
You were born with good looks
And a solid right hook
Whining makes no difference
You bruised my eye
It doesn't hurt at all
One day I'll rise above
And you will take a fall
I may be beat today
But I will survive
I'll get up off the ground
Stand tall and fight
My eyes don't hurt at all
I would rather die
Than be your whipping boy
School year's almost over
Summer is one day closer
As God is my witness
I will never be a victim again.
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