Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Push- Chapter 8 up

More Broken Than Ever Before

by lostmyfearoffalling 4 reviews

Category: My Chemical Romance - Rating: G - Genres:  - Published: 2009-03-16 - Updated: 2009-03-16 - 1346 words

I wake up later, with absolutely no idea where I am or what time it is. It’s dark though, and I’m in a bed. Someone is next to me, and some part of me knows it’s Frank. I try to breathe normally, though it kills me.

“Evangeline?” Comes Frankie’s voice softly through the darkness. “Are you awake?”

I breathe too deep, and it’s all I can do not to cry. “Yeah.”

“Are you ok?”


“Why do you always say that?” Frankie says, sounding almost frustrated.


“Why do you always say you’re ok? I keep waiting, and I thought this would be the time you tell me the truth.” Suddenly, the room is flooded with light. I close my eyes, then open them gradually, to see Frank shaking his head in disbelief.

don’t know how to answer Frank now.

I watch, as he opens his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“I’m sorry…it’s just…” He stops. “I’m sorry. But would you please answer this honestly? How badly did he hurt you?”

I wait. “I’m not sure.”

Frank gives a hard laugh. “Well, can we find out? So I can see if I need to take you to the hospital?”

I choke. “No. No hospital.”

“Ok, ok. Can we please just find out how bad you’re hurt?”

I take a deep breath, nodding.

Frank adjusts himself, moving slowly as he slides closer to me. “Ok, I need you to be honest again. Where does it hurt the worst?”

Everywhere. “My chest. And my back.”

Frank suddenly looks nervous. He even blushes. “Do you want to take your shirt off, so we can see?” He pauses for a moment. “We can leave it on, it’d just be ea-“

“It’s fine.” I say, raising my aching arms and pulling my shirt over my head. I lay it down on the bed, and I see Frank’s eyes widen a little. But he controls himself, and suddenly, his eyes are only focused, filled with determination. He stretches his hand out slowly, as if waiting for me to tell him not to. I don’t.

He puts his hand gently on my ribcage, and I have to bite my lip. When he pushes down with only the softest pressure, I gasp.

Frankie looks up at me. “Don’t hide how much it hurts. Show me. “ He looks back down before speaking again. “I kept waiting, while I watched you. I waited for you to scream, cry, anything. And you didn’t.” His hand pushes down, just a little bit harder, and I feel tears forming in my eyes.
“Cry Evangeline. Do something. Don’t hold it all in.” He looks up at me again, and I can see a tear , beginning to fall from his eye and slide down his nose. “We can’t know what’s wrong if you can’t show me that it hurts.”

The phrase reminds me of the Fray. And you never know what’s wrong without the pain…

I swallow again, fighting the urge to cry.

“Don’t hold back.” Frankie whispers, again and again. “It’s not good to keep it all inside. You’ve gotta let it out. The pain has to have a way out.” He sounds almost like he’s begging me. His hand is shaking as it moves to my back. He touches the part where my father kicked me, and I shatter, everything I was holding in breaking out.

I scream, back arching, curling up into a ball. I’m not just releasing the pain; I’m releasing the fear, the anger, the agony. I rock back and forth, my whole body wracked with convulsive sobs. My hair falls over my face, sticking to my cheeks that are wet with sweat and tears. Frankie wraps his arms around me gently, and though it startles me at first, it feels good. When I don’t tell him to stop, he pulls me into him. I’m still curled in on myself, lost in my own pent up emotions.

“It’s ok. You’re ok. Let it out.” Frankie says, over and over.

I stay like that, for the longest time. I have no idea how long he really holds me, but it feels like hours. After some immeasurable length, the tears stop, and my convulsions shrink to trembling. I lift my head out of my arms, looking at Frankie. I don’t know what to say.

“Are you better now?” He asks me.

I nod. We just breathe, for another few minutes. I feel safe with him.

When I think that I’m strong enough to speak, I ask him. “Where am I?”

“My house. Well, my parent’s house…” his smirk makes an appearance, and it makes things seem a little more normal.

I look around the room, taking in the surroundings. The walls are covered in posters, comic book pages, and drawings, in a style I now immediately recognize as Gerard’s. Two guitars sit back to back in the corner; a fire red electric, and a glossy black acoustic. Clothes lay on the floor, in separate piles; organization amidst the chaos.

I take a deep breath. “Frankie, what happened? How did you…” I don’t know how to finish the sentence. Save me, is what I’m tempted to say.

He looks slightly embarrassed. “I knew something was wrong. Well, I’ve known. I always knew. And yesterday, I wanted to find out. So I could help you.”

His hand brushes away the lingering tears on my face, as he continues to speak, though not looking at me.

“I followed you. And…I…I…I watched.” He looks completely ashamed of himself now. His voice is broken. “I watched for too long. And then, I did what I should have done the moment you went in. I looked for something hard, and then I hit him with it. You know the rest.” Silent tears are falling. “I watched too long. I’m sorry. I watched too long.”

I take his chin in my hand, tilting it up, so he has to look me in the eye. “Frankie, I might have died if you hadn’t come. He could have killed me.” There’s another silent moment. “You saved me Frankie.”

I look into his beautiful eyes, so filled with sorrow.

“Why didn’t you run Evangeline?” He asks me. “Why didn’t you do something? You could’ve fought him.”

I sigh. “I don’t run Frankie. I’ve never run.”
“But sometimes, you’ve gotta run. Sometimes, running is better than taking it, or fighting. Everyone runs sometimes Evangeline.” He says earnestly, like he’s trying to convince me.

“I don’t run Frankie.” I say again.

Frank sighs, his hand still on my face. We’re touching each other, I realize. And I realize how right this feels. Suddenly, Frankie’s face is coming closer. I can see the whole world in his eyes.

My lips meet his, gently at first. His hand moves to my hair, his other one still gentle on my back. He kisses me a little harder, and I return it, though I notice he never puts pressure on my body. He’s careful, even now, not to hurt me.
I lick his cheek softly, sliding my nose against his. Suddenly, there’s an extra amount of tension. His kiss slows, then stops. He pulls back, and there’s more pain on his face than I’ve ever seen.

“I’m sorry.” He says. And he runs out the door.

I’m completely stunned. The senselessness begins to take me again, and I cry; quietly this time, but just as hard.

I’m sitting shirtless in tears, in Frankie’s room, on Frankie’s bed, without him.

More broken than ever before.

Ok people. This was big. This was just as big as what just happened. Rate it, review it. You know you want to.
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