Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > You Can Cry All You Want To
Frank stood staring at the bloody body on the floor. He felt his knees cave in under him. He never hit the ground because of the painful grip the man had on his shoulder. Tears cascading down his cheeks. He looked to the frail body hoping, praying for him to move. To give any sign of life at all. Frank’s muscles lost all strength as sorrow seeped in. He couldn’t put up a fight as he was dragged away from his best friends body.
He was dragged along behind his captors for what seemed like hours. His face was still blank as the tears continued to fall. He felt that open wound in his heart bleeding fatally. His body remained limp being dragged along the harsh forest ground behind the men. His once bright hazel eyes had dulled to a broken brown. He didn't take notice, as the door was wedged open, he didn't take notice as he was dragged painfully down stairs. He didn't even take notice when shackles were clasped around his thin wrists, chaining him to a cement wall. He felt his insides begin hollow out. He remained blank as his mind was spinning.
Everything played on repeat like a broken videotape. The same shaky memory, the bang, the look of shock on Mikey’s face, before it fell blank, and he hit the forest floor with a painful thud. The blood seeping into the earth, then the whole ting would rewind itself. Tormenting Frank’s already wounded mind.
Frank’s body continued to lie against the cement wall behind him. There was a dull throbbing ache in Frank’s back. He continued to ignore it. His gaze resting on the food placed down in front of him. His mind began to swim from exhaustion. He had no idea the length of time he had been held down here. His mind wasn't broken. Trapped in that permanent loop of his best friend loosing his life. And it was all Frank’s fault. How could he live with himself after that? His eyes began to slide shut. He hadn’t sleep in god knows how long. As his eyelids closed, the only thing he could see was Mikey’s face, then his scream. That along was enough to jolt Frank out of his much-tormented sleep. Sending forth a new batch of tears to water his cheeks.
He had often thought over wether or not anyone would be coming for him. Then again if he was Gerard or any of the Ways or any of Mikey’s friends for that matter, he wouldn’t save himself. Frank could only imagine how much they hated him, for causing the death of their best friend, brother and son.
Frank’s hair was greasy and knotted around him. He had lost a phenomenal amount of weight from lack of eating. His skin was a sick grey white. His lip was torn and dried blood coated his chin, this caused from his constant gnawing at his lip ring. His once vibrant hazel eyes had faded into a shade of brown that no one cared for. Red circled his eyes from the tears he had shed, a thick dark line directly under that, and the sign of the lack of sleep he was living on. He couldn’t help but wonder how long it would be before his body just gave up. He doubted it would be long now. He was no barely strong enough to raise his head to look at people who entered his room. Not that he tended to move much on his own accord anyway.
Mikey’s death had been all Frank’s fault. He had got Mikey to skip school that day. He had wanted to go to the park. He was the one that ditched him to go on the swing. He was the one that was unable to protect his best friend like a true best friend should. Instead he was here alive and kicking, and Mikey had been wrongfully taken.
Every now and then Frank couldn’t help but wonder how his parents were. He knew his mother must have had a heart attack when he heard Frank was gone again. But then that disappointment that would have shone in his fathers eyes at the learning of Mikey’s death, and Frank’s role in it.
Frank looked up to the corner and shrank back; there in the corner was his hallucination of Mikey. Though of course, Frankie was unaware of the false truth behind this hallucination, he just saw it as Mikey. And how this Mikey tormented him so.
“ Why Frank?” the illusion Mikey whimpered to his friend. His blood covered hand reaching out to Frank causing the smaller boy to shrink back into himself.
“ I-I never meant to Mikey, I didn't want you to get hurt,” he pleaded with the boy before him. He saw the blank slots where Mikey’s eyes were supposed to be. The blood began to pour into the room from every nook and cranny. Every crevice was now gushing the red fluid. Frank screamed as he tugged futilely at the chains binding him.
“ You killed me Frank”
“No Mikey, I never meant to I swear”
“ It doesn’t matter if you meant to or not Frankie, but you still did” dead Mikey giggled at frank, tilting his head to the side, a sick grin on his face and those holes where his gentle hazel eyes should be, staring right at Frank.
“No, no, no, no, no” Frank chanted to himself.
“ No matter how many times you repeat that Frankie, you are not going to convince yourself,” Mikey giggled at Frank again, before beginning crawling over to him over the blood. It seeping through his clothes and washing over his body.
Frank began to desperately struggle against his bindings as that corpse he called a friend approached him. A wicked gleam in his vacant eye socket, as he continued to advance on Frank through the river of blood, He licked his lips as smirked. Frank continued to scream and struggle. The blood still raising around his little body. It began to engulf his legs, then his waist. And soon Mikey was on him. His mouth locked on Frank’s neck. Tearing at the flesh, ripping and hacking, those tiny little fangs of fertiles that were never made for attack, slicing through his tender skin and muscle.
As Frank lent back to scream, the blood enveloped his head, diving down his throat and cutting off all air passages. Frank’s scream was silenced by him drowning.
Drowning in his own regrets.
He was dragged along behind his captors for what seemed like hours. His face was still blank as the tears continued to fall. He felt that open wound in his heart bleeding fatally. His body remained limp being dragged along the harsh forest ground behind the men. His once bright hazel eyes had dulled to a broken brown. He didn't take notice, as the door was wedged open, he didn't take notice as he was dragged painfully down stairs. He didn't even take notice when shackles were clasped around his thin wrists, chaining him to a cement wall. He felt his insides begin hollow out. He remained blank as his mind was spinning.
Everything played on repeat like a broken videotape. The same shaky memory, the bang, the look of shock on Mikey’s face, before it fell blank, and he hit the forest floor with a painful thud. The blood seeping into the earth, then the whole ting would rewind itself. Tormenting Frank’s already wounded mind.
Frank’s body continued to lie against the cement wall behind him. There was a dull throbbing ache in Frank’s back. He continued to ignore it. His gaze resting on the food placed down in front of him. His mind began to swim from exhaustion. He had no idea the length of time he had been held down here. His mind wasn't broken. Trapped in that permanent loop of his best friend loosing his life. And it was all Frank’s fault. How could he live with himself after that? His eyes began to slide shut. He hadn’t sleep in god knows how long. As his eyelids closed, the only thing he could see was Mikey’s face, then his scream. That along was enough to jolt Frank out of his much-tormented sleep. Sending forth a new batch of tears to water his cheeks.
He had often thought over wether or not anyone would be coming for him. Then again if he was Gerard or any of the Ways or any of Mikey’s friends for that matter, he wouldn’t save himself. Frank could only imagine how much they hated him, for causing the death of their best friend, brother and son.
Frank’s hair was greasy and knotted around him. He had lost a phenomenal amount of weight from lack of eating. His skin was a sick grey white. His lip was torn and dried blood coated his chin, this caused from his constant gnawing at his lip ring. His once vibrant hazel eyes had faded into a shade of brown that no one cared for. Red circled his eyes from the tears he had shed, a thick dark line directly under that, and the sign of the lack of sleep he was living on. He couldn’t help but wonder how long it would be before his body just gave up. He doubted it would be long now. He was no barely strong enough to raise his head to look at people who entered his room. Not that he tended to move much on his own accord anyway.
Mikey’s death had been all Frank’s fault. He had got Mikey to skip school that day. He had wanted to go to the park. He was the one that ditched him to go on the swing. He was the one that was unable to protect his best friend like a true best friend should. Instead he was here alive and kicking, and Mikey had been wrongfully taken.
Every now and then Frank couldn’t help but wonder how his parents were. He knew his mother must have had a heart attack when he heard Frank was gone again. But then that disappointment that would have shone in his fathers eyes at the learning of Mikey’s death, and Frank’s role in it.
Frank looked up to the corner and shrank back; there in the corner was his hallucination of Mikey. Though of course, Frankie was unaware of the false truth behind this hallucination, he just saw it as Mikey. And how this Mikey tormented him so.
“ Why Frank?” the illusion Mikey whimpered to his friend. His blood covered hand reaching out to Frank causing the smaller boy to shrink back into himself.
“ I-I never meant to Mikey, I didn't want you to get hurt,” he pleaded with the boy before him. He saw the blank slots where Mikey’s eyes were supposed to be. The blood began to pour into the room from every nook and cranny. Every crevice was now gushing the red fluid. Frank screamed as he tugged futilely at the chains binding him.
“ You killed me Frank”
“No Mikey, I never meant to I swear”
“ It doesn’t matter if you meant to or not Frankie, but you still did” dead Mikey giggled at frank, tilting his head to the side, a sick grin on his face and those holes where his gentle hazel eyes should be, staring right at Frank.
“No, no, no, no, no” Frank chanted to himself.
“ No matter how many times you repeat that Frankie, you are not going to convince yourself,” Mikey giggled at Frank again, before beginning crawling over to him over the blood. It seeping through his clothes and washing over his body.
Frank began to desperately struggle against his bindings as that corpse he called a friend approached him. A wicked gleam in his vacant eye socket, as he continued to advance on Frank through the river of blood, He licked his lips as smirked. Frank continued to scream and struggle. The blood still raising around his little body. It began to engulf his legs, then his waist. And soon Mikey was on him. His mouth locked on Frank’s neck. Tearing at the flesh, ripping and hacking, those tiny little fangs of fertiles that were never made for attack, slicing through his tender skin and muscle.
As Frank lent back to scream, the blood enveloped his head, diving down his throat and cutting off all air passages. Frank’s scream was silenced by him drowning.
Drowning in his own regrets.
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