You should probably think before you run upstairs.
Alrighty, down to business. Thank you for all of the lovely reviews! They really made my day! :3 Also, a lot happens in this chapter so....
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my words and ideas. You sue me, I sue back, bitches.
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Frank Iero was sitting on a swing in the park near his house for two reasons: 1) Because he felt like it and 2) He forgot his keys and his mom wouldn't be home for another two hours.
All of the kids were gone by now, the result being that the playground was deserted. The only sound was that of the squeaky chains on Frank's swing. His feet just touched the ground underneath the swing, causing dust and dirt to fly up into the air in soft plumes. Frank couldn't help but envy the dirt. '/At least you get to fly away and leave. I'm stuck here,'/ he thought.
A gentle breeze swooped Frank's dark fringe up just long enough for one of his black rimmed eyes to come into view. But as soon as the breeze came, it left, allowing the fringe to plop right back down into place.
A figure entering the park caught Frank's eye, causing him to look up, curious as to who would be at the park this late at night. Well, it was only seven at night, but still.
The figure turned out to be a young guy around Frank's age, maybe a little bit older. He had pale skin and a round, boyish face, along with shoulder length black hair. He was clad entirely in black.
'Good,' Frank thought bitterly. 'Maybe he'll murder me and dump my body somewhere no one will find it.
The boy, who Frank didn't notice was walking towards him, stopped in front of him.
"Is anybody sitting here?" he asked in a somewhat nasally but all the same adorable voice. He pointed at the swing next to Frank.
"No," Frank mumbled, kicking up more dirt.
The boy sat down on the swing and brought out a pack of Marlboros from his pocket, lighting one up with a match and sucking in the cancerous air. "So what's your name, kid?" He asked.
Frank raised his eyebrows. "'Kid?' Dude, you're like a year older than me!" He snapped. He wasn't in the best of moods to begin with, and he certainly didn't need some overconfident prick asking him stupid questions.
"So?" the boy asked, still puffing away on his cigarette. "Just- what's your name?"
"Why?" Frank retorted. Why does some stranger want to know my name so badly? Oh my god, he is gonna murder me.
"So I know who I'm talkin' to. That's why."
"Fine." Frank huffed. "I'm Frank. What's your name?"
The stranger brushed back his long ebony hair and smirked. "The name's Gerard."
"Nice." Frank couldn't help but feel a bit uncomfortable around Gerard, especially since he was still smirking at him. Frank now took notice that Gerard had really pretty eyes- a sort of greenish brown, but not quite hazel. The colors seemed to swirl with each other, creating the most unique color. Frank could just look into them for hours....
Frank was cut from his trance by the sound of his phone ringing, the oh-so familiar sounds of the Misfits piercing the air. "Ah, shit." Frank swore. He saw this one coming.
"What? Who is it?" Gerard asked innocently.
Frank debated telling him or not, but just settled on telling him in the end. "It's my girlfriend," he muttered, running a nervous hand through his hair.
Gerard's expression visibly darkened. "Girlfriend?" he asked. "What girlfriend?"
Frank started to feel very uneasy around Gerard and quickly made the mental decision to answer his girlfriend's call. "Um, listen, Gerard?" he started nervously, afraid of the other man's reaction. "I've gotta go. I'll-erm, see you around, I guess."
"Do you have to?" Gerard gave him the best puppy eyes he could manage, but they didn't affect Frank the slightest bit.
"Yeah. It was nice talking to you!" he called as he began to leave. It wasn't a complete lie, but really, it wasn't exactly an enjoyable experience talking to Gerard. He just seemed...creepy.
As Frank exited the park, he noticed that his phone had stopped ringing. 'Ah, SHIT! Jamia's gonna kill me!'
To describe Frank as unhappy in his relationship would be a lie. He was happy, extremely happy indeed, but sometimes Jamia could be a little.../aggressive./ A good example would be the last time Frank didn't answer one of her calls. Frank was in the middle of straightening his hair when his phone started to ring. Now, straightening his hair was a real task, so he couldn't answer the phone. When he finally called his girlfriend back a whole seven minutes later, she flipped out on him and started accusing him of being with another girl. Frank had then added extreme paranoia to her list of imperfections- but he still loved her.
By the time he reached his house, Frank noticed that his mother had made it home early. He made his way up the porch steps, his battered black Converse slapping against the concrete. He pulled open the door and made his way up the stairs to his room, yelling to his mom that he was home. He pushed open the door to his room and slammed it shut, plopping down on his bed and punching in Jamia's number. Frank tried to prepare himself for the oncoming rain of accusations, but no matter how much he tried, he was still always taken aback by his girlfriend's shouts.
After about two rings, she picked up. "Hello, Frank," she said in an unusually calm voice.
"Hey Jam, listen, I'm sorry I didn't answer the phone. I was talking to someone and I couldn't pick up in time," Frank apologized in a pleading voice.
"Who is she?"
"Actually, she was a /he/, and he was some random dude that came up to me in the park."
"Oh yeah? What was his name?" Her voice took on a very sarcastic tone which Frank did not really appreciate.
"Gerard. His name was Gerard."
"Oh, well you can go tell this 'Gerard' person to stop flirting with you because you're taken!"
Frank began to raise his voice. "Oh my god, we weren't flirting! Why are you getting so worked up over this?"
"Because I love you, Frankie!" she began to sob.
"You sure you're not on your period?" Frank asked, noting her drastic change in moods.
Frank couldn't even begin to comprehend the stream of insults and curses flowing from the other end of the line. Frank tried yelling back, but his shouts couldn't even begin to match that of his girlfriend's.
"Alright," Frank started, his voice angry and firm. "You know what, Jamia? We're done."
Jamia's shouts through the phone ceased. "W-What?" she stuttered.
"I'm breaking up with you," stated Frank.
"No, Frankie, please! I'm sorry!" she pleaded, but Frank's mind was made up.
"Yeah, I'm sure you are. Bye, Jamia."
"Fine! Have fun with 'Gerard', you faggot!" And with that said, she hung up on Frank.
Frank stood up from his bed and grabbed fistfuls of his hair, pacing around his tiny bedroom. He wasn't glad his relationship was over. He still loved Jamia, but he couldn't take anymore of her accusations. Maybe if she just stopped to listen to what Frank had to say...
But what Frank didn't know was that Gerard had followed him home and was standing outside his open bedroom window listening to everything Frank said.
"She doesn't know you like I do, Frankie," He said with a smirk.
Gerard needed to choose his time to strike, and when he did, it'd be quick and precise. No one would suspect a thing.
And that time to strike was now.
. . .
Frank's only other neighbor was currently out of town, so Frank didn't have to worry about playing his music too loud. His mother had been called in for work again, so with a kiss on his cheek and a rushed goodbye, she was out the door. Too bad she didn't know that would be the last time she ever saw her son.
Frank was sitting on the couch in his living room with Black Flag blaring out of the stereo to his right. With a bag of Skittles in his hand, he sighed. Life couldn't get any better right now, especially since he was currently going through a breakup.
Frank heard a few muffled bangs coming from his front door, but he just took it as the wind, seeing as there was supposed to be a thunderstorm tonight.
He heard the bangs again, only this time much louder.
Frank paused his music and set down his Skittles, ever so subtly creeping towards the door. The bangs were increasing in sound, matching the rhythm of his steps.
As Frank rounded the corner into the hallway where the door was, he prepared himself for what he might see. He turned the corner and screamed a high pitched, incredibly girly scream. He clutched his chest and looked down at what caused his fright.
His dog, Mama.
She was clawing at the door and whimpering, obviously wanting to go outside and explore the world.
Frank opened the door and the dog shot off, chasing after a rabbit she saw. He laughed and shut the door.
But as Frank turned around to walk back to the living room, he got the shock of his life.
The boy from the park, Gerard, was standing in the middle of the hallway, smirking and staring right at Frank.
"Hi, Frankie," he drawled.
"What are you doing here?!" Frank shrieked, noticing the syringe Gerard was twirling between his long, bony fingers.
"I just want to....chat." Gerard took a step towards Frank and dropped his syringe. As he bent down to pick it up, Frank shot past him and up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He ran into his room, slamming the door and locking it behind him. He could hear Gerard pounding up the steps after him at an incredibly slow, mocking pace.
Frank didn't know what to do. Why didn't he just run out the front door like any sane person would have?
Because you want to get caught, said a nagging little voice in the back of his head.
But Frank didn't have time to disagree with the voice, for Gerard had kicked down Frank's door in one smooth motion. With his long black hair sticking up in random places and his all black clothing, Gerard really did look like a psycho.
"It's time to go, Frankie."
Gerard lunged at Frank, his larger body rendering Frank helpless. The shorter man screamed and began to struggle, but Gerard caught him in a headlock and stabbed the needle into his exposed arm, pushing down on the top and entering the syringe's contents into Frank's system.
As the world began to fade into black, Frank heard Gerard say one last thing.
"Rest up, Frankie. You've got a big day tomorrow."
And with that being said, Frank fell into a deep slumber, the sound of his own screams echoing through his mind.
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