Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
I'm Not Okay.
2 reviewsFrank's been treated like crap his whole life. Now he's finally found a way out... *FRERARD*
0Unrated
I shivered in the bite of the cold.
It was a chilly February night, and me being stupid me, I'd left without a jacket. I glanced at myself in the window of a closed department store. My face, unscathed and scar free. I sighed. How the hell did he do that? Treat me the way he did then not leave a mark.
My stepfather's words came back to me: I always keep away from the face, Frankie. Know why? 'Cause, if I don't, people're going to know what's going on. And we can't have that, can we? I assumed David worked on the same system.
I reached the door to our flat and stood still, with my hand on the door handle, for a few seconds before I opened it and walked up the narrow concrete staircase inside. "D-David?" I called out, nervously. "David, baby, it's Frankie. I'm home." Silence.
I made my way through to the tiny kitchen. A note was stuck to the cabinet door. I picked it up and read it, sighing. Frankie. Have gone out with the guys. Probably staying over at Charlie's. Will be home in the morning. David.
I sighed again as I crumpled the note into a little ball. Looked like I was alone again. And I'd just went out, with what little money we had to buy food, and bought him vodka and cocaine and painkillers. It wasn't really fair; I'd given up eating and drinking and showering, sometimes for weeks at a time, to fuel his addictions and he'd never so much as thanked me for buying the stuff for him. A couple of months back, I'd even got arrested for being in possession of illegal substances. I'd tried to explain that they weren't mine, but the police hadn't listened. David had to come and bail me out. He wasn't happy about it - it meant he couldn't have his drink or his drugs for almost a month.
I went and curled up in bed, alone and cold. We hadn't been able to pay the heating bill this month. We'd barely managed the rent. I had a horrible feeling David had been borrowing money from his scary friends who came round, swearing and demanding their repayments, with interest. It was money we didn't have, and often ended up in me being passed round them to keep them happy. I sighed and shut off the light.
At least, in sleep, I could escape the nightmare that was my life.
It was a chilly February night, and me being stupid me, I'd left without a jacket. I glanced at myself in the window of a closed department store. My face, unscathed and scar free. I sighed. How the hell did he do that? Treat me the way he did then not leave a mark.
My stepfather's words came back to me: I always keep away from the face, Frankie. Know why? 'Cause, if I don't, people're going to know what's going on. And we can't have that, can we? I assumed David worked on the same system.
I reached the door to our flat and stood still, with my hand on the door handle, for a few seconds before I opened it and walked up the narrow concrete staircase inside. "D-David?" I called out, nervously. "David, baby, it's Frankie. I'm home." Silence.
I made my way through to the tiny kitchen. A note was stuck to the cabinet door. I picked it up and read it, sighing. Frankie. Have gone out with the guys. Probably staying over at Charlie's. Will be home in the morning. David.
I sighed again as I crumpled the note into a little ball. Looked like I was alone again. And I'd just went out, with what little money we had to buy food, and bought him vodka and cocaine and painkillers. It wasn't really fair; I'd given up eating and drinking and showering, sometimes for weeks at a time, to fuel his addictions and he'd never so much as thanked me for buying the stuff for him. A couple of months back, I'd even got arrested for being in possession of illegal substances. I'd tried to explain that they weren't mine, but the police hadn't listened. David had to come and bail me out. He wasn't happy about it - it meant he couldn't have his drink or his drugs for almost a month.
I went and curled up in bed, alone and cold. We hadn't been able to pay the heating bill this month. We'd barely managed the rent. I had a horrible feeling David had been borrowing money from his scary friends who came round, swearing and demanding their repayments, with interest. It was money we didn't have, and often ended up in me being passed round them to keep them happy. I sighed and shut off the light.
At least, in sleep, I could escape the nightmare that was my life.
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