FicWad

FRANK'S POV

I slammed the front door,as the anger rolled off me in trembles.Randal had meant what he said,and he came after me when I was all alone today.I ended up with a black eye,busted lip,and

a nasty cut on my left eyebrow. "Welcome home,son." my mother walked into the with a bat,spiting the last word as if she regrets having me as her son.

Not here to!Fuck this!

I ran past her,shoving her to the side and up to my room.Pressing my back against the door,I reached over twisted the lock. "Franklin Anthony Iero!Get your ugly ass out here!" my mother

screamed from the other side of my door and slammed the bat against it.I let out a shaky breath and walked over to my bed.It seemed to be bekoning me to come and sleep.So soft and warm.I

smiled sadly and flopped down,reaching for the stereo.With a flick of the button and a twist of dail I had "American Phyhco" pumping out through my speakers.I soon drifted off into what most would call a nightmare,but its normal to me.Ive never had a 'good dream'.

I stand above my body,watching the blood covered black and red hair gently sway in slight breeze.My colorless face shows no sign of movement,no sign of life.Above me is an angel,but not dressed in all white and gold as the bible describes.No,he has shagy black hair and black t-shirt and jeans.His wings are also black and feathers are falling from them,each turning red as it came loose.He was beatiful,in a dark mysterious way.He's looking at me,not my body but my spirit.His eyes laced thickly with dissapointment.I didnt like him being sad,it didnt look right. "How did this happen?" I asked,surprised at how at ease I was.He gave me a sad smile and said "Because Frankie,you gave up." He seemed to glide through the air to me.What does he mean I gave up?Did I commit suicide?No.... "Whats you name?" I asked,curiosity getting the better of me. "My name is not important,what is important is that you wake up."Wait,so this is a dream? "How do I wake up?" he came loser until I could only see his enveloping hazel eyes. "Like this." he pressed his lips to mine and he was gone.

My eyes flew open to see my bedroom ceiling.My breaths are coming in shallow pants and my hair is matted to my neck and forehead.This is not from fear though.This dream......it was good.



GERARD'S POV

I stepped out of my jet black porshe,smiling at my house.I'd lived here for six years now,ever since I decided to take some money leave.Well,actually 'be given' the mone was more acurate.

It's pretty big,often refered to as the second 'Playboy Mansion'.I keep what I guess you can call trophies.I keep the bra's and underwear of those fortunate enough to get in.I hung my bag on

the hook and kicked off my doc.martins.I sighed in contintment and grabbed the remote,flicking on the movie I was watching last night.Upon hitting play,it picked up where I had left off with

blood splattering the screen.You just gotta love zombies.A familiar rumblingin my stomache reminds me that I still hadnt eaten.Groaning,I hit pause and head to the kitchen.The giant white

cold box holding all the food taunts me from across the room.I close the distance and almost lunge into the fridge.I smile and grab some left over pizza and red bull.I put the pizza on the

plate and shove it into the microwave,only stopping to crack open my drink.

Aaaah,life is good.



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sorry guys just a filler.R&R please!