Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > If You Think That I'm Wrong, This Never Meant Nothing To You
Frank's POV
How sick does someone have to be to be thinking about a guy during their own Grandmother's funeral? Yeah, pretty damn twisted. The cross necklace around my neck feels heavier than it normally does somehow, but I just can't help it, all I can think about is him.
I may be only 17 but I didn't think my attention span was this bad. Seriously this morning was one of the worst in my life, and believe me I’ve had plenty of really bad days in my short life; being the only “midget-emo-fag” in my school...yeah it means that high school is my own personal hell. This morning though made all the cruel words and harsh beatings seem like a treat; this morning was my Grandmother's funeral. Yet, even though the only one person in my life who supported be and loved me unconditionally was gone, there was a strange lightness inside of me. Something deep within my soul was glowing. As I said, I know it's wrong but I just couldn’t get him out of my head.
Not only did this guy notice how upset I was and go out of his way to comfort me, but he was the most beautiful person I'd ever seen. It must be a sin to think about this but the way his angelic, pale face was framed with jet black hair, darker that ravens made my breaths rushed and sharp. When he held me it was as if his strong arms were holding me together and without them I would just crumble to pieces. Somehow just that one kind act made all my troubles disappear, that tender embrace made me forget about the horrors of abuse; at school and at home, and that the one person I could depend on was no longer here. Suddenly, just by standing there in his arms, everything was better. He made me see a light at the end of my dark tunnel. He made me feel complete, if only for a few moments, but just for that time when he stood so close and gazed almost lovingly down at me I felt better than I had done my entire life.
Of course though, just like most things, that perfect moment simply gazing into his eyes as our arms were wrapped around each other’s waists was ruined by an aggravated cough from behind. It was my mother. And I'm sure that if we weren't at the graveyard she would have thrown a fit. He wore all black, but even though it was a funeral and that was the done thing for a Catholic burial, he made it seem dangerous and exiting. The dark black eyeliner that perfectly outlined his fantastic eyes probably made my mother squirm in disgust and disapproval. But as it was all she could do was glare at the older man, it was still enough to make him blush furiously and all but run back to the road through the graves, not even daring to look back. How I wished he looked back though, just so I could have taken one last look at him.
Now as I stood under the dying canopy of golden and red leaves new tears pricked my eyes. Not from the prayer being muttered by the Catholic priest or the dirt being thrown down onto my beloved Grandma's coffin but by the fact that I may never see him again. I may never get that feeling again. The strange thing is that I don't even know the guys name; all I know is that my heart flutters restlessly whenever I think about him. Maybe I could ask my mother who he was but the look she gave us made me cringe uncomfortably. Besides, she would ask why I cared so much, uuuch what if she thought I was gay!?
I guess I would just have to try to forget about him. The thing is though; I don't really want to forget. I have never felt such a warmth spread threw me, especially in these kinds of circumstances. Maybe this is what having a friend felt like? To be honest I wouldn't really know. Like I said, there's really know one 'like me' in any of my classes. I couldn't really understand what was so different about me though. Ok , so I was shorter than average but that was all physically, I wanted to get a couple of piercings and shave and dye the sides of my hair blonde or red but of course my parents would never have accepted that. The catholic school I went to enforced full uniform at all times, Sunday was mass which meant I had to dress ‘smart’, so the only time I could be myself was lazing about in my Misfits hoody on a Saturday, and it wasn’t like the other kids would see me then. All I asked for was just one friend. Someone that I could simply do stuff with that would help me forget about how and why my small body became littered with bruises. Someone who would care; just like the guy from earlier. I bet he would be the type of person who -
"Franklin Junior! You will learn to pay more attention to the Father in future." The apologetic look on the priest's face was such a contrast to the harsh, cruel look from my mother but it was enough to make me wake up from my dreams and try hard to concentrate on what was being asked of me.
"As I was saying Frank, I understand how hard this period if grief is for you..." my childhood priest looked extremely sincere and kind as he offered words of comfort and wisdom to me. This was such a rare thing to me; when my Gran passed my father just seemed irritated and mother was too busy with the will and funeral arrangements to bother with comforting me.
"Unfortunately child I must ask of you a small pardon in this difficult time. As you know old Mr Gellar is terminally ill and has requested for me to accompany him at the hospital in his final hour. However the undertaker's assistant was expecting me to drop of this cheque and death certificate, I wonder Frank, if you would be willing to stop there on your way back to give it to him and sort out some of the necessary documents?"
Uuugh great, pretty much the last thing I wanted to do; spend some time with some creepy old guy who had been around death for way too long. This was the priest though, and my parents would most likely force me to do it anyway. I mumbled a reply and shuffled lazily out through the cast iron gates to the road. I had no idea how long I was expected to do this, but maybe it was penance for thinking too much about the older man from earlier.
The walk to the funeral directors was short but without the trees around the graveyard it was enough for me to become extremely cold. The early winter winds swept right threw my thin black coat and ruthlessly nipped at my arms. Believe me I really tried, but the only thing that I thought of was how warm I would be in his arms. What I wouldn’t give to just sink into his embrace and forget about the rest of the world, we could just- very suddenly the scenery changed, from the soft blur of houses and rusty fences to frenzied limbs and black hair dye. My body roughly flew with great force into a lamppost while another figure simply stumbled clumsily, recovering gracefully. I groaned in pain as the back of my head throbbed agonisingly, squeezing my eyes shut together. My eyelids slowly fluttered back open only to immediately cause my complexion to turn a deep shade of red. When I day dreamed about being in his arms again I didn’t mean like this! Standing right in front of me was the very man that I had been shamefully thinking about the whole day. A strange pang hit my heart as I gazed up at him. I had no idea that you felt this...wonderful when you wanted someone to be your friend, no wonder the kids at school all had 1000s of friends on facebook, this felt amazing.
I only just realised that I was full on staring at the guy, with a ridiculous smile plastered to my face, when he cleared his throat and grinned knowingly at me.
“Wanna hand kid?” Uuuch his voice made me melt inside. Wait. This is sounding like one of those ridiculous chick flicks that my cousin’s make me watch whenever I visit. That’s not how this is. I’ve just never had a proper friend before. That’s all.
“Eeemh, I-i-i” speak Frank, damn it, speak! “Sure, th-thanks. Sorry, I must have really hit my head.” Well that sounded lame, well done Frank.
“I guess we were both just off in our own little worlds,” the wink he flashed me somehow made my palms sweat like crazy, “listen, I’m really sorry for your loss. Was she a relative? You seemed pretty upset earlier, and I’m sorry if I made you feel.... uncomfortable...I...em...” He looked like he was holding something back but I couldn’t wait for him to finish while there was an idea so wrong in his head.
“No! I wasn’t uncomfortable at all, I mean, thank you. So much.” Even in these Baltic temperatures I could feel the heat radiating of my face from, what was probably, the biggest blush painted on my face.
“She was my Grandmother, we were really close.”
“I’m so sorry kid, really, I know what that’s like. And I’m sorry, again, but I’ve really got to go. It’s my job to sort out all the documents on your Gran’s death, and I’m supposed to be meeting the priest round about...ehhm...now actually.” There was a hint of regret mixing into his glorious eyes that I was studying so intently while trying to work out why it was there that I barely registered what he had just said.
“Wait! What?” Is it just my over active imagination or did he just say what I think he said?
“I work at the funeral directors,” he looked almost ashamed of this somehow, “I’ve got to sort out some paper work and such with the priest who performed the funeral.” Ooh great so my brain isn’t coming up with ways to spend more time with him, at least that!
“Great! That’s just fanta...eeh...what I meant was that....eeer....he...the priest...he....well...” The older man giggled (possibly the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard) and placed a hand gently on my shoulder.
“Hey, calm down man, don’t get your panties in a twist!” He giggled some more and all I could do was blush furiously and try to duck behind my dark hair. “Guess you really hit your head hard,” he reached a hand up to the back of my head, and honestly I’m pretty sure my heart stopped right at that moment. He softly stroked the small bump that had already formed where I knocked it against the lamppost, but quickly pulled his arm back to his side, as if he had only just realised what he was doing.
“Yeah, well what I was saying, or trying to say, was that the priest sent me to help. He’s got somewhere else to be and asked me to take this stuff over and help fill out any forms or whatever.” Unless my imagination is trying to drive me crazy, then I’m sure that I saw his eyes light up dramatically and a grin beginning to grow on his perfect face. That strange feeling swelled in my chest again as I realised that it was me who had put it there. Suddenly I didn’t dread this job so much, in fact, I really couldn't think of anywhere else I’d rather be.
A/N
Hello again, thank you all for the lovely reviews, they honestly helped me get motivated to write this. Sorry for the wait, I've been going threw quite a bit of personal stuff recently, so I'm really sorry this has taken so long to update. Hopefully I'll get chapter's up faster from now on, but the more ratings, reviews and views this gets, the faster the updates will come ;)
Thanks, CarronXxx
How sick does someone have to be to be thinking about a guy during their own Grandmother's funeral? Yeah, pretty damn twisted. The cross necklace around my neck feels heavier than it normally does somehow, but I just can't help it, all I can think about is him.
I may be only 17 but I didn't think my attention span was this bad. Seriously this morning was one of the worst in my life, and believe me I’ve had plenty of really bad days in my short life; being the only “midget-emo-fag” in my school...yeah it means that high school is my own personal hell. This morning though made all the cruel words and harsh beatings seem like a treat; this morning was my Grandmother's funeral. Yet, even though the only one person in my life who supported be and loved me unconditionally was gone, there was a strange lightness inside of me. Something deep within my soul was glowing. As I said, I know it's wrong but I just couldn’t get him out of my head.
Not only did this guy notice how upset I was and go out of his way to comfort me, but he was the most beautiful person I'd ever seen. It must be a sin to think about this but the way his angelic, pale face was framed with jet black hair, darker that ravens made my breaths rushed and sharp. When he held me it was as if his strong arms were holding me together and without them I would just crumble to pieces. Somehow just that one kind act made all my troubles disappear, that tender embrace made me forget about the horrors of abuse; at school and at home, and that the one person I could depend on was no longer here. Suddenly, just by standing there in his arms, everything was better. He made me see a light at the end of my dark tunnel. He made me feel complete, if only for a few moments, but just for that time when he stood so close and gazed almost lovingly down at me I felt better than I had done my entire life.
Of course though, just like most things, that perfect moment simply gazing into his eyes as our arms were wrapped around each other’s waists was ruined by an aggravated cough from behind. It was my mother. And I'm sure that if we weren't at the graveyard she would have thrown a fit. He wore all black, but even though it was a funeral and that was the done thing for a Catholic burial, he made it seem dangerous and exiting. The dark black eyeliner that perfectly outlined his fantastic eyes probably made my mother squirm in disgust and disapproval. But as it was all she could do was glare at the older man, it was still enough to make him blush furiously and all but run back to the road through the graves, not even daring to look back. How I wished he looked back though, just so I could have taken one last look at him.
Now as I stood under the dying canopy of golden and red leaves new tears pricked my eyes. Not from the prayer being muttered by the Catholic priest or the dirt being thrown down onto my beloved Grandma's coffin but by the fact that I may never see him again. I may never get that feeling again. The strange thing is that I don't even know the guys name; all I know is that my heart flutters restlessly whenever I think about him. Maybe I could ask my mother who he was but the look she gave us made me cringe uncomfortably. Besides, she would ask why I cared so much, uuuch what if she thought I was gay!?
I guess I would just have to try to forget about him. The thing is though; I don't really want to forget. I have never felt such a warmth spread threw me, especially in these kinds of circumstances. Maybe this is what having a friend felt like? To be honest I wouldn't really know. Like I said, there's really know one 'like me' in any of my classes. I couldn't really understand what was so different about me though. Ok , so I was shorter than average but that was all physically, I wanted to get a couple of piercings and shave and dye the sides of my hair blonde or red but of course my parents would never have accepted that. The catholic school I went to enforced full uniform at all times, Sunday was mass which meant I had to dress ‘smart’, so the only time I could be myself was lazing about in my Misfits hoody on a Saturday, and it wasn’t like the other kids would see me then. All I asked for was just one friend. Someone that I could simply do stuff with that would help me forget about how and why my small body became littered with bruises. Someone who would care; just like the guy from earlier. I bet he would be the type of person who -
"Franklin Junior! You will learn to pay more attention to the Father in future." The apologetic look on the priest's face was such a contrast to the harsh, cruel look from my mother but it was enough to make me wake up from my dreams and try hard to concentrate on what was being asked of me.
"As I was saying Frank, I understand how hard this period if grief is for you..." my childhood priest looked extremely sincere and kind as he offered words of comfort and wisdom to me. This was such a rare thing to me; when my Gran passed my father just seemed irritated and mother was too busy with the will and funeral arrangements to bother with comforting me.
"Unfortunately child I must ask of you a small pardon in this difficult time. As you know old Mr Gellar is terminally ill and has requested for me to accompany him at the hospital in his final hour. However the undertaker's assistant was expecting me to drop of this cheque and death certificate, I wonder Frank, if you would be willing to stop there on your way back to give it to him and sort out some of the necessary documents?"
Uuugh great, pretty much the last thing I wanted to do; spend some time with some creepy old guy who had been around death for way too long. This was the priest though, and my parents would most likely force me to do it anyway. I mumbled a reply and shuffled lazily out through the cast iron gates to the road. I had no idea how long I was expected to do this, but maybe it was penance for thinking too much about the older man from earlier.
The walk to the funeral directors was short but without the trees around the graveyard it was enough for me to become extremely cold. The early winter winds swept right threw my thin black coat and ruthlessly nipped at my arms. Believe me I really tried, but the only thing that I thought of was how warm I would be in his arms. What I wouldn’t give to just sink into his embrace and forget about the rest of the world, we could just- very suddenly the scenery changed, from the soft blur of houses and rusty fences to frenzied limbs and black hair dye. My body roughly flew with great force into a lamppost while another figure simply stumbled clumsily, recovering gracefully. I groaned in pain as the back of my head throbbed agonisingly, squeezing my eyes shut together. My eyelids slowly fluttered back open only to immediately cause my complexion to turn a deep shade of red. When I day dreamed about being in his arms again I didn’t mean like this! Standing right in front of me was the very man that I had been shamefully thinking about the whole day. A strange pang hit my heart as I gazed up at him. I had no idea that you felt this...wonderful when you wanted someone to be your friend, no wonder the kids at school all had 1000s of friends on facebook, this felt amazing.
I only just realised that I was full on staring at the guy, with a ridiculous smile plastered to my face, when he cleared his throat and grinned knowingly at me.
“Wanna hand kid?” Uuuch his voice made me melt inside. Wait. This is sounding like one of those ridiculous chick flicks that my cousin’s make me watch whenever I visit. That’s not how this is. I’ve just never had a proper friend before. That’s all.
“Eeemh, I-i-i” speak Frank, damn it, speak! “Sure, th-thanks. Sorry, I must have really hit my head.” Well that sounded lame, well done Frank.
“I guess we were both just off in our own little worlds,” the wink he flashed me somehow made my palms sweat like crazy, “listen, I’m really sorry for your loss. Was she a relative? You seemed pretty upset earlier, and I’m sorry if I made you feel.... uncomfortable...I...em...” He looked like he was holding something back but I couldn’t wait for him to finish while there was an idea so wrong in his head.
“No! I wasn’t uncomfortable at all, I mean, thank you. So much.” Even in these Baltic temperatures I could feel the heat radiating of my face from, what was probably, the biggest blush painted on my face.
“She was my Grandmother, we were really close.”
“I’m so sorry kid, really, I know what that’s like. And I’m sorry, again, but I’ve really got to go. It’s my job to sort out all the documents on your Gran’s death, and I’m supposed to be meeting the priest round about...ehhm...now actually.” There was a hint of regret mixing into his glorious eyes that I was studying so intently while trying to work out why it was there that I barely registered what he had just said.
“Wait! What?” Is it just my over active imagination or did he just say what I think he said?
“I work at the funeral directors,” he looked almost ashamed of this somehow, “I’ve got to sort out some paper work and such with the priest who performed the funeral.” Ooh great so my brain isn’t coming up with ways to spend more time with him, at least that!
“Great! That’s just fanta...eeh...what I meant was that....eeer....he...the priest...he....well...” The older man giggled (possibly the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard) and placed a hand gently on my shoulder.
“Hey, calm down man, don’t get your panties in a twist!” He giggled some more and all I could do was blush furiously and try to duck behind my dark hair. “Guess you really hit your head hard,” he reached a hand up to the back of my head, and honestly I’m pretty sure my heart stopped right at that moment. He softly stroked the small bump that had already formed where I knocked it against the lamppost, but quickly pulled his arm back to his side, as if he had only just realised what he was doing.
“Yeah, well what I was saying, or trying to say, was that the priest sent me to help. He’s got somewhere else to be and asked me to take this stuff over and help fill out any forms or whatever.” Unless my imagination is trying to drive me crazy, then I’m sure that I saw his eyes light up dramatically and a grin beginning to grow on his perfect face. That strange feeling swelled in my chest again as I realised that it was me who had put it there. Suddenly I didn’t dread this job so much, in fact, I really couldn't think of anywhere else I’d rather be.
A/N
Hello again, thank you all for the lovely reviews, they honestly helped me get motivated to write this. Sorry for the wait, I've been going threw quite a bit of personal stuff recently, so I'm really sorry this has taken so long to update. Hopefully I'll get chapter's up faster from now on, but the more ratings, reviews and views this gets, the faster the updates will come ;)
Thanks, CarronXxx
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