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"Is it hard? You know, having to deal with a disorder like that?"

Gerard sighed as he considered Frank's question. "Well, I don't really know. As long as I take my pills, it's almost like nothing's wrong. I think the worst part of it is having to see my therapist. He - well, simply put, he's a pain in the ass."

"What do you mean?" Frank asked curiously. "Is he really irritating or something?"

"Yes. He's unbelievably annoying. He thinks he knows exactly what's going on with me and he thinks he's totally helping me, but it only makes me want to punch him in the face."

Frank and Gerard had stopped at the park next to the school on their way home from Nicholson's so that they could talk without having to worry about avoiding cars and other nuisances. Frank was now sitting on a swing moving lightly back and forth with his feet dangling just above the ground while Gerard leaned against one of the poles supporting the swing set. 

"What about you? Is it hard for you being…gay?" Gerard was worried about how he worded his questions for fear of hurting Frank's feelings. 

"To tell you the truth, it's not as bad as you'd think - at least for me seeing as I pretty much hate everyone at my school. And the few friends I actually have…" Frank hesitated. "Well…they're just, you know, friends."

Gerard could tell there was something Frank wasn't telling him, but he decided to keep his mouth shut. It wasn't worth pushing him farther seeing how much they'd already revealed to each other in the short time they'd known each other. Gerard was surprised that he wasn't having second thoughts about telling Frank things that he would have been uncomfortable telling even Mikey about. Gerard stared at the ground for a minute, shuffling his feet and kicking the pieces of bark lying on the playground floor, trying to gather up the courage to ask a question he never would have dared ask anyone up until now. 

"Frank?"

Frank looked up at Gerard and pushed a strand of hair out of his eyes. "Hm?"

"Have you…um, have you ever cut?"

Frank returned his gaze to his shoelaces and after a moment of silence, nodded very slowly. It was so subtle Gerard would have missed it if he hadn't been watching him so intently for a response. 

"Why do you ask?" Frank questioned in a quiet voice. 

"I…I don't really know. I haven't really thought about it until now, but I haven't cut since I moved here and got diagnosed with my disorder thing."

"Dissociative identity…" Frank murmured under his breath. 

"What?"

"It means your different identities are detached from each other. They're not aware of each other, and neither are you."

Gerard stared at him. How could this young boy seem to understand something so complicated? And how did he even know what it was called?

"I feel like you understand this shit more than my therapist does. He doesn't get me at all. But then again, I wouldn't call him a friend." Gerard gave Frank a wry smile. 

Frank smiled back and tilted his head to look up at the setting sun, hiding behind grey clouds and giving them a reddish glow, making them look as if they were blushing in embarrassment like Gerard so often did.  

"It's getting dark…" he said softly. 

"We should get going." Gerard put up his hood against the chilly breeze. 

Frank jumped off the swing and joined Gerard as they walked out of the park and back onto the empty streets. They walked quietly, their only other companions being the long shadows cast by the streetlights glowing orange against the darkening sky. 

"This is my street…" Gerard said as they arrived at the corner of the block where he lived. 

Frank nodded. "Well, good night." He turned to walk the remaining few blocks to his own house. 

"Hey Frank?"

Frank paused in his steps. 

"Thanks…for talking to me. And for telling me, er - you know."

Frank remained silent but gave Gerard a small smile over his shoulder. 

Gerard remained standing under the glow of the streetlight and watched as Frank's silhouette became smaller and smaller. When he had disappeared around the corner Gerard finally turned and walked up the driveway of his own home. He opened the door to find his worried mother waiting for him. 

"Where have you been Gerard?"

"Sorry Mom, I was talking to someone. Is Mikey feeling alright?"

"He's sick. And what do you mean you were talking to someone?" Donna demanded. 

"It's okay Mom! It's just someone Ray introduced me to - he's the guy I met at school today and they're both friends with David."

"David? Isn't that the man who owns that one music shop?"

"Yes, and he's really nice. He offered to teach me the guitar several days ago."

"Well I just wanted to make sure you weren't getting into trouble. Now get to bed."

Gerard rolled his eyes and clumped up the stairs. As he passed by Mikey's bedroom he heard his loud snoring and couldn't help but smile - the kid sounded like a fucking motorcycle. Gerard went into his room and mindlessly changed into his pajamas. He all but collapsed on his bed and fell into a fitful sleep. 


Gerard found himself on a staircase again; it appeared to be the same one as last time. His feet led him up the stairs and down the hallway as if there was an invisible force directing him where to go.

When he opened the door on the left he expected to see the bleeding boy again, but he walked in to find the room empty. He looked at the floor; there was a large spot of dried blood on the carpet where the boy had been lying last time Gerard had been in this room. He walked over to the desk in the corner and picked up one of the many pieces of paper covering the surface. He couldn't quite make out what the words said, so he tried reading another one only to get the same result. Suddenly he heard the door open behind him. He whirled around to find an extremely angry woman stalking towards him.

"What did you do to my son?!" she shrieked.

"I didn't do anything! I swear!"

Gerard watched in horror as she brought a knife out of her pocket.

He screamed as she stabbed him in the stomach, pulled the knife out, and stabbed him again and again.