FicWad

Idly decided to myself that Im going to finish this.. Ive erased all stories and ideas to finish this one... and once I do.. Im going to do a rewrite to organise it better and correct all my spelling mistaked :)

Gerard's POV

Its been three weeks since Ive seen or spoke to Frank properly. He was round the first week to get his things back. He said that he had moved on and was staying with family... family? Does he even have family. Who even k... Ouch!! Shit.. this stupid lighter just burned me. My mother has accually cut off all electricity in my room until I come out. I dont know why she tries. Im not coming out. Ive got everything I need right in my pocket...

I stopped writing and put my hand lightly on my pocket and felt the bottle of pills beneath the fabric of my loose jeans. I clutched my hand around the bottle and closed my eyes as I breathed in deep. I exhailed and continues writing

I havent accually slept now that I think about it...

I dropped my pen uninspired and set the hot lighter on my dresser... or at least I think thats where I set it. Regardless, I set my head back on my pillow and fell to sleep.

I woke in the park, the one me and Frank kisses at. I saw him, sitting on the swings where we sat. He was alone. I called out to him, but he couldnt hear me. I called to him again, still no reply. I walked over and sat on the swing across from him. "Frank!" I shouted. I even waved my hands in his face, but he still didnt notice. I went to tap his shoulder, but when my hand should have TOUCHED his shoulder, my hand went straight through it... it was like I was a ghost or something. Accepting the fact that I couldnt get his attention. I settled for watching him. I studied how his hair blew in the wind, the hazel specks in his what seemed to be, pure brown eyes, the small tear running down his pale cheek... Why was he crying... The setting seemed to change. We were at a cemetary. Frank was now standing by a grave decored with daisys and roses. He broke and fell to the floor in tears, kicking and punching the large stone as he did. I stood in shock from what I saw, afraid to walk to the grave in fear of what I might find. I built up my courage and breathed hard as I walked as steady as I could to the grey stone. I stood behind Frank, towering over him and raised my eyes to the words engraved into the rock... It read... "Mikey Way, Beloved Son and Brother." I fell to my own knees in an instant. Mikey. Oh God Mikey...

"Mikey....Mikey!!" I jumped out of my sheets from the sound of my own yells. I touched my head and my forehead was slick with sweat. My throat felt cry and my sheets were damp with my own sweat. Oh God... I heard my door hit against the wall as it opened and feet rush down the stairs.

"Gerard, what the fuck is it?" Mikey said. He stood in slice of light in nothing but boxers and socks. He looked tired as fuck. "Nothing, nothing.. sorry. Bad dream..." I mumbled. He grunted as he walked back up the stairs, slamming the door as he went. No doubt talking about me under his breath.

I reached for the bottle of pills I felt rolling around underneath me and popped the lid. I placed two pills in my mouth and downed the stagnant glass of water at my bedside table. I crawled out of my bed to the bathroom, peeling of my sweat soaked clothes. I decided to just take a shower. I hopped in and let the water take me over.

Once I finished showering, I pulled on a pair of jeans. When I opened my drawer to get a t-shirt.. there was nothing there. Fuck... I sighed as I walked up stairs. I guess my mom won. I needed clothes... and in all honesty.. I was kindof hungry... and I missed my coffee. I opened the door and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a clean shirt from the laundry room as I went.

"Well, well.." said my mother with her coffee in hand "Nice to see my other son is alive. Id stay and chat more, but I have to go out." She kissed me on the forehead and walked out the door. I heard her car start and she drove away. Now it was just me in the big kitchen all alone. I walked to the fridge in search of food. I came out holding more than I thought I would. In my hands was a can of coke, some cookies (home-made ofcourse), an apple and my favourite... my skittles. Thankful I was the only one who liked them.

So there in the kitchen, I spent a good hour making coffee and downing food like n tomorrow when the home phone rang. I sighed as I walked out to answer it. "Hello?"