FicWad

Eh, if you don't like Frerard-fluff don't read. And same if you don't like self harm and the such.

I had no idea how long I’d sat there. Just staring at the mound of fresh earth and the heap of already wilting flowers. Staring and letting the tears fall freely. It must have been hours because the once sunny September day had now perished and given way to the cold, dark nights that you loved. And all those at your funeral had ceased to try and talk to me. So they’d given up on me as well. I hate cliché’s but the weather actually matches my mood as I sit, knees bent beneath me on the damp grass. The grey clouds are sullen and seem to spread despair. The weather seems to sense my thoughts as it gently begins to rain, steadily heavier and heavier, soaking my unusually long black hair and making the already dew laden grass wetter. I smirk, barely visible behind my curtain of black hair, so stark against my vampiric skin.

I decided that the rain was like tears. Sliding gracefully down my cheeks. Both had the same rhythm and both were strangely soothing. There’d been a lot of tears today. Mostly mine but a few shed by whoever had attended your funeral. I no longer cared. I wanted you back and that was that. There’d been tears yesterday as well, and the day before and the day before that. Right back until Sunday. Where it all started. Or rather ended for you.

Six whole days without you. You knew that would hurt me wouldn’t you Frank? But I know you had to go. I understand. I think. I just hope you don’t hurt anymore…you’ve had enough pain for both of us.

I can feel the memories coming now, a seemingly endless tidal wave of destruction and despair. And it’d have to be here that I let that tidal wave loose. Here in the beautifully alive graveyard. I love irony. It is beautiful here. With its neatly trimmed bushes and flower beds, the intricate headstones and elegant angel statues perched precariously on small platforms. And the tree. We used to sit here on Halloween night. Beneath this tree. I hope you like it here. With its branches reaching desperately into the sky, withered and helpless. It reminds me of humanity…

I shut my eyes tightly shut – almost painfully so – as the memories come. Of you. Of your hypnotic hazel brown eyes with the delicate flecks of green. Of your shining (naturally brown) hair that seemed to change style and colour every week. I remember walking in on you sprawled on your stomach across the cold bathroom floor trying to choose hair dye. Choosing by asking each packet if they liked you. If they didn’t answer you’d use them anyway. Again I smirked at the memory. You could always make me smile.

Oh your smile. It could light up the world your smile. I’d do anything if you smiled. And you knew it. And you still do. It could make anything at all happen. It was just so…human. And alive. And perfect. Always filled with true, genuine happiness and the dash of mischief that always surrounded you. Oh how I miss your smile.

Do you remember when you got promoted at the comic store where we both worked? Me, drawing for various comics and posters they produced and you selling it all. You were so happy that night. I was making pasta when you came in. And, as always, after our usual greetings you came and hugged me from behind and as I leant into your warm (if short) embrace you stood on tip toe to whisper into my ear

“Guess what Gee?”
“What my darling Fwankie?” My voice lazy with the comfort that surrounded you. You released me, I groaned in annoyance and you suddenly squealed, making me jump
“I got a promotion at the comic store! I’m assistant manager!” I squealed as well, laughing at your girlish squeals and excitement.
“That’s awesome Frankie!!” I pulled you into a tight embrace and began to waltz around the cramped kitchen.

But that was when it all started going downhill.