Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Medically Speaking You're Adorable
Chapter One - Crowd my head
7 reviewsThe life of Frank Iero. His thoughts, quirks and habits. His friends, foes and lovers.
0Unrated
I tried as hard as I could to dig a hole deep enough for Rocky, but considering I was only six years old, digging a hole big enough to bury a Cockier Spaniel was a tough task to complete.
My mother should have been out helping but we had only moved here two days before, Rocky dieing on the second morning, and, when I think about it my mom was probably still getting over the fact that she had left my father behind with our cleaner.
So I sat in the back yard, crying because the spade I had wouldn't lift any of the rocks from the ground properly. Our backyard was quite barren compared to others, more soil than grass, more rock than soil.
At the tender age of six I blamed myself for Rocky's death, maybe it really was my fault. I should have closed the gate, if I had he wouldn't have been on the road. I guess the driver could have stopped, at least to see if he was okay, see if he was alive. No one did. I found him dead, shoved into the gutter, at least he wasn't hit over and over smeared into the gravel.
I guess the gutter was better.
With guilt, remorse and regret running through my head, I dug as hard and fast as I could, sobbing even louder as the spade got stuck under a root. I guess this tragedy did take away any questions I may have about the disappearance of my father. Never my dad, he wasn't a role model, not interested in my well-being when I think back to my younger years, just my father. At six it doesn't really kick in that he is in fact gone.... forever, until you realize most families on your block have more than one parent, most don't have just a mother working non-stop to keep you fed, clothed and safe.
No, I just worried about my dog.
As I tried digging harder I heard rustling near the fence.
I quickly turned to see two boys peering over it, watching me dig the hole for my Rocky. I quickly rubbed my eyes, embarrassed over the fact that they might just call me a baby girl for crying.
I stared back.
The bigger boy hopped the fence with ease helping the younger one climb over, they both made their way over to my hole, awkwardly sitting down beside me.
"Hi, I'm Gerard Arthur Way", he introduced himself, then after poking the other boy in his back, the younger one introduced himself with "I'm his brother, Mikey".
I looked up at both boys, Gerard was older than me, I could tell, but I wasn't sure with Mikey, maybe he'd be my friend?
"My name is frank", finally answering back after realizing I hadn't supplied them with a name, my mother always said that was rude, you must always welcome people with a warm smile.
I've never been to good with manners.
"I have to dig a hole for my Rocky" I almost squeaked, small tears slowly running down my cheeks.
"Mikey you stay here with Frank, if we're gonna dig this hole we'll need a bigger shovel."
My mother should have been out helping but we had only moved here two days before, Rocky dieing on the second morning, and, when I think about it my mom was probably still getting over the fact that she had left my father behind with our cleaner.
So I sat in the back yard, crying because the spade I had wouldn't lift any of the rocks from the ground properly. Our backyard was quite barren compared to others, more soil than grass, more rock than soil.
At the tender age of six I blamed myself for Rocky's death, maybe it really was my fault. I should have closed the gate, if I had he wouldn't have been on the road. I guess the driver could have stopped, at least to see if he was okay, see if he was alive. No one did. I found him dead, shoved into the gutter, at least he wasn't hit over and over smeared into the gravel.
I guess the gutter was better.
With guilt, remorse and regret running through my head, I dug as hard and fast as I could, sobbing even louder as the spade got stuck under a root. I guess this tragedy did take away any questions I may have about the disappearance of my father. Never my dad, he wasn't a role model, not interested in my well-being when I think back to my younger years, just my father. At six it doesn't really kick in that he is in fact gone.... forever, until you realize most families on your block have more than one parent, most don't have just a mother working non-stop to keep you fed, clothed and safe.
No, I just worried about my dog.
As I tried digging harder I heard rustling near the fence.
I quickly turned to see two boys peering over it, watching me dig the hole for my Rocky. I quickly rubbed my eyes, embarrassed over the fact that they might just call me a baby girl for crying.
I stared back.
The bigger boy hopped the fence with ease helping the younger one climb over, they both made their way over to my hole, awkwardly sitting down beside me.
"Hi, I'm Gerard Arthur Way", he introduced himself, then after poking the other boy in his back, the younger one introduced himself with "I'm his brother, Mikey".
I looked up at both boys, Gerard was older than me, I could tell, but I wasn't sure with Mikey, maybe he'd be my friend?
"My name is frank", finally answering back after realizing I hadn't supplied them with a name, my mother always said that was rude, you must always welcome people with a warm smile.
I've never been to good with manners.
"I have to dig a hole for my Rocky" I almost squeaked, small tears slowly running down my cheeks.
"Mikey you stay here with Frank, if we're gonna dig this hole we'll need a bigger shovel."
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