Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Mirror, Mirror
Mirror, Mirror
Chapter Seven
A/N: Okay, so we're starting to get into the main body of the story now. I hope you like this chapter; I enjoyed writing it. I know I always ask, but would please take a minute of your time to review this as it means a lot to me and I'll know whether or not to carry on with it. I don't want to keep on writing it of no one is going to enjoy it. I always like to know what you think of my story and how I could improve it. Thank tumbleweeds. Enjoy :) XO P.S if you could check out my other two short stories I would be most grateful :) here are the links
Frerard In The Dark http://www.ficwad.com/story/158044
Magic http://www.ficwad.com/story/169427
The moon hid the smooth blankets of clouds that lay on the black sky. The stars like fireflies caught in a black web. Occasionally the moon would peek out of its shelter for a few minutes, only to slip back into the clouds once more, the scene reflected in Frank's eyes.
He couldn't sleep.
He didn't know what to do. Go back to school tomorrow and get bullied by the people he hated or skip school and go to the park and risk having an argument or even losing the only friend he had made in this place? This dilemma swirled around Frank's brain for hours as he lay awake, his open eyes staring at the blank wall whilst the moon arced over him through the open window.
Dawn had begun to creep up on the night before Frank finally collapsed into a restless sleep, the grey sky slowly replacing the runaway moon as the sun crawled over the horizon. To Frank, it seemed like mere minutes later when his mother opened his door and shook him gently awake, telling him in a hushed voice that she had to leave early to get to work. Frank grunted in response, too tired for a real reply as he fell back to sleep again, only to be awoken ten minutes later by his phone alarm beeping next to his ear.
Disoriented, Frank rolled out of bed and on to the floor, banging his elbow in the confusion as he lay tangled in a mess of blankets. It might have been funny if he had had some friends to tell. Then the previous day came flooding back to him again and a feeling of depair washed over him as he realised he still didn't know what to do. Frank stood up, stretching his arms into space and accidently knocking his hand on the wall before slouching off to the bathroom.
Twenty minutes later, without even realising what he had done, he was fully dressed with his school bag at the front door, ready to leave the house. His eyebrows raised in surprise as he registered that all the while he had been thinking about this problem, he had half conciously gotten ready to solve it. Once Frank had slammed out of the front door, he teetered on the edge of the street, debating which way to go. On one hand, the lure of the park seemed a much healthier option to Frank, but on the other, Gerard was his only friend, and he was trying to help. Was he, Frank, going to let him down? When Frank put it in that perspective, maybe school did seem like the better option, at least he would keep the one friend he had.
Frank turned right.
When Frank arrived at the classroom, he was the only one there and had to recheck his timetable to make sure he wasn't supposed to be somewhere else other than English. It was only after triple checking it that he realised the time on his phone was wrong and he had turned up ten minutes too early. Cursing quietly under his breath for his mistake which had earned him ten minutes less in bed, Frank waited until the rest of the students had turned up before sitting down, he had realised this mistake before when he had chosen a seat at his old school, which happened to be some one elses and ended up getting shoved off it whilst the rest of the class sniggered spitefully.
Once the class had slowly started to fill up, he chose a seat as far away from what he figured were the class bullies. In fact, he was sure he recognised one of them from the group who had cornered him yesterday in the corridor. The bully seemed to recognise Frank too as he glanced over, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he poked his friends attention. Frank tensed, his shoulders hunched up protectively, his forehead breaking into a slight sweat and his breathing more pacey. Luckily for Frank, at that precise moment the teacher walked in and he sighed in relief as the bully put his hand down which was pointing Frank out to his friends, their smiles mimicking his.
Without a word, the teacher began handing out sheets of paper, slapping them down on each desk. Frank peered interestedly at his, grateful that he had something to turn his attention to other than the bullies behind him and upon reading it, realised it was a poem. At that moment, the door opened swifly, bringing in a breeze of air which ruffled Franks hair, making him look up.
A girl stood in the doorway. She was a pretty girl Frank thought. She wore burnt orange metallic boots which came up her calves, black skinny jeans, a lacey black gothic top, with an artisitc patchwork jacket covering her arms which Frank reasoned, she had probably made herself. She had a neat, clean face with mousy brown wavy hair which fell down her back. When she turned her head to look at the teacher, Frank also realised she had dyed the underneath of it black. Her eyes were also outlined in black eyeliner with a smoky colour eye shadow on top.
'Sorry I'm late' the girl said in a mock regretful tone. The teacher may have not recognised the tone but Frank could see right through that; that was the tone he used when he was pretending he was sorry about something. (That is, when he made the effort to make it sound convincing.) 'This is the third time you have been late to my lesson this week Miss Colverson' the teacher replied sternly as she stalked to the front of the room glaring irritatedly. The girl however looked unabashed and directly ignored the angry comment, but muttered something that sounded very much like 'cow' as she passed Frank's desk, heading towards her seat.
The corners of Franks mouth twitched.
The teacher waited in sarcastic silence as the girl took her books and pen out of her bag and had put the bag under her desk before announcing todays work to the class. They were to work in either groups or alone, analysing the poems which had just been put down on their desk, and after the analysing (here the teacher had to call for calm as several cheers ran around the room at the mention of group work with friends) they were to write their own poem on the same theme of the one they had just been given. Frank could see people furtively glancing at their friends and subtly nodding to show they were working with each other. At the teacher's command, the sound of chairs scraping backwards and tables being put together filled the room and the teacher took this opportunity to walk over to Frank who was sat alone, organising the paper on his desk.
'New here?' she asked, her attitude very much different from the one she had just adopted for the girl who had walked in late. If that's how it went, this attitude wouldn't last very long with him, he had every intention to turn up late and miss half the lesson (in doing so, half the torments) and it was only by error that he had got there early that morning. Frank looked blankly at her for a few seconds before replying 'Yes.' The teacher nodded to herself as if she had been intelligent to work out that he must be new since she had never seen him before. 'Thought so. Well I hope you're a hard worker, this is a mixed ability class but we'll be putting you to the test to see if you're up to the standards I want.'
Frank stared in disbelievement at the patronising tone in her voice. The teacher didn't seem satisfied with this lack of reply and prodded him for an answer. 'Err..Yeah' Frank croaked, his voice funny from absence of speech. 'Good.' She said smiling What's your name?' Another silence. 'So I can add you to the register' she prodded. 'Frank' He croaked feeling stupid. 'Mhmm' The teacher scribbled the name down into her notebook with a pencil. 'Last name?' Frank cleared his throat 'Er, Iero?' he asked all too aware of how dim he probably sounded, as he felt the red flush rising up his cheeks. The teacher didn't seem very impressed either.
'Well I guess that's all. Lets see how you get on analysing this poem. Yes Miss Colverson?' She asked suddenly as Frank turned to see the girl who had walked in late stood behind him. 'I was just going ask if Frank wanted to work with me' she stated, pointing quickly at Frank who in turn, turned bright red. The teacher straightened up from her crouched postion besides Frank's desk, Gesturing to the seat besides Frank. The girl took this as an indication and walked over to it. 'It looks like you've made a good impression Mr Iero' The teacher said before working her way towards her desk. Frank just sat there with his neglected hair and crumpled clothes, one eyebrow raised behind his scruffy fringe.
'Don't mind her' said the new girl matter of factly as she sat down besides Frank, bringing him back out of his confused thoughts. 'She's always like that with new students, she'll eventually grow to hate you like she does everyone else.' Frank stuttered a little. He wasn't used to people talking to him politely. 'Err, yeah sure' he replied in a surly without really thinking about what she said. 'So I guess I already know your name Frank, my name's Lolita ' the girl introduced herself and offered her outstretched hand which Frank shook gingerly after an awkward pause. He noticed she wore many different bracelets and wristbands on each of her arms. 'Um hi' Frank responded, unsure of what to say. Lolita apparently didn't either and a shy silence fell between them.
After many minutes of Lolita and Frank both staring at the paper, they got started on the task the teacher had set them. Frank decided it best not to make an extremely bad impression in his first English lesson even though Lolita said the teacher would probably hate him anyway, but the task turned out to be an easy one, as Frank soon found out, you could make up any old rubbish as long as you could think of a reason why the poem might mean that.
By the time the bell rang signalling the end of lesson, their page was full of ideas and annotations of words, with a list of possible themes running down the side of the paper. The teacher came round to collect everybody's work before they left, stopping at Frank and Lolita's table where she praised him for his good efforts in the lesson, ignoring Lolita's contributions completely. Frank could tell that Lolita and this teacher didn't get on too well. Lolita rose and stood awkwardly by the side of the table, her bag slung over one shoulder and her hands fiddling with one of the bangles on her thin wrist.
'Um..What lesson do you have next?' She asked shyly to Frank who was still sat at the table slowly packing away his possessions. He dug out his timetable at Lolita's question, his ears turning pink at the thought of it. 'Err..Maths.' Frank groaned inwardly to himself. Lolita had obviously seen the look of regret on his face though and she smiled shyly. 'I have physics, guess I'll see you next lesson?' Frank looked down at his timetable again as he stood, slinging his bag over his head and saw that he had English again next. 'We have English twice in the same day?'
'Yes' Lolita answered 'I think we're writing our own poems next or something, I hope you're good because I'm useless at it.'
Frank opened his mouth to say that he wasn't good at anything but at that point the teacher noticed they were the only two students left in the room and so shoved them out into the corridor. 'Bye.' Lolita hurried her farewell as she turned right, heading off to her next lesson and disappearing into the throng of the crowd, her patchwork jacket just visible through the small spaces not occupied by other students. Frank sighed, after that okay lesson, he would now have to face being tormented by his maths class. He hoped hard that none of them were any of the boys that had cornered him the day before. He could just imagine the rumours already.
Grimacing at the thought, Frank started to turn left with a mind (albeit a reluctant one) to head to his next lesson. When he was halfway down the corridor, however, he had a change of heart and turned back, heading in the opposite direction. He didn't want to go to maths, so he wouldn't, he'd decided reasoning that he would come back for the next lesson. 'Anyway,' Frank thought to himself as he headed out of the double doors and into the almost empty grounds, walked up the path, and headed out of the school back towards his house and the park 'I guess I've got some thanking to do.'
Chapter Seven
A/N: Okay, so we're starting to get into the main body of the story now. I hope you like this chapter; I enjoyed writing it. I know I always ask, but would please take a minute of your time to review this as it means a lot to me and I'll know whether or not to carry on with it. I don't want to keep on writing it of no one is going to enjoy it. I always like to know what you think of my story and how I could improve it. Thank tumbleweeds. Enjoy :) XO P.S if you could check out my other two short stories I would be most grateful :) here are the links
Frerard In The Dark http://www.ficwad.com/story/158044
Magic http://www.ficwad.com/story/169427
The moon hid the smooth blankets of clouds that lay on the black sky. The stars like fireflies caught in a black web. Occasionally the moon would peek out of its shelter for a few minutes, only to slip back into the clouds once more, the scene reflected in Frank's eyes.
He couldn't sleep.
He didn't know what to do. Go back to school tomorrow and get bullied by the people he hated or skip school and go to the park and risk having an argument or even losing the only friend he had made in this place? This dilemma swirled around Frank's brain for hours as he lay awake, his open eyes staring at the blank wall whilst the moon arced over him through the open window.
Dawn had begun to creep up on the night before Frank finally collapsed into a restless sleep, the grey sky slowly replacing the runaway moon as the sun crawled over the horizon. To Frank, it seemed like mere minutes later when his mother opened his door and shook him gently awake, telling him in a hushed voice that she had to leave early to get to work. Frank grunted in response, too tired for a real reply as he fell back to sleep again, only to be awoken ten minutes later by his phone alarm beeping next to his ear.
Disoriented, Frank rolled out of bed and on to the floor, banging his elbow in the confusion as he lay tangled in a mess of blankets. It might have been funny if he had had some friends to tell. Then the previous day came flooding back to him again and a feeling of depair washed over him as he realised he still didn't know what to do. Frank stood up, stretching his arms into space and accidently knocking his hand on the wall before slouching off to the bathroom.
Twenty minutes later, without even realising what he had done, he was fully dressed with his school bag at the front door, ready to leave the house. His eyebrows raised in surprise as he registered that all the while he had been thinking about this problem, he had half conciously gotten ready to solve it. Once Frank had slammed out of the front door, he teetered on the edge of the street, debating which way to go. On one hand, the lure of the park seemed a much healthier option to Frank, but on the other, Gerard was his only friend, and he was trying to help. Was he, Frank, going to let him down? When Frank put it in that perspective, maybe school did seem like the better option, at least he would keep the one friend he had.
Frank turned right.
When Frank arrived at the classroom, he was the only one there and had to recheck his timetable to make sure he wasn't supposed to be somewhere else other than English. It was only after triple checking it that he realised the time on his phone was wrong and he had turned up ten minutes too early. Cursing quietly under his breath for his mistake which had earned him ten minutes less in bed, Frank waited until the rest of the students had turned up before sitting down, he had realised this mistake before when he had chosen a seat at his old school, which happened to be some one elses and ended up getting shoved off it whilst the rest of the class sniggered spitefully.
Once the class had slowly started to fill up, he chose a seat as far away from what he figured were the class bullies. In fact, he was sure he recognised one of them from the group who had cornered him yesterday in the corridor. The bully seemed to recognise Frank too as he glanced over, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he poked his friends attention. Frank tensed, his shoulders hunched up protectively, his forehead breaking into a slight sweat and his breathing more pacey. Luckily for Frank, at that precise moment the teacher walked in and he sighed in relief as the bully put his hand down which was pointing Frank out to his friends, their smiles mimicking his.
Without a word, the teacher began handing out sheets of paper, slapping them down on each desk. Frank peered interestedly at his, grateful that he had something to turn his attention to other than the bullies behind him and upon reading it, realised it was a poem. At that moment, the door opened swifly, bringing in a breeze of air which ruffled Franks hair, making him look up.
A girl stood in the doorway. She was a pretty girl Frank thought. She wore burnt orange metallic boots which came up her calves, black skinny jeans, a lacey black gothic top, with an artisitc patchwork jacket covering her arms which Frank reasoned, she had probably made herself. She had a neat, clean face with mousy brown wavy hair which fell down her back. When she turned her head to look at the teacher, Frank also realised she had dyed the underneath of it black. Her eyes were also outlined in black eyeliner with a smoky colour eye shadow on top.
'Sorry I'm late' the girl said in a mock regretful tone. The teacher may have not recognised the tone but Frank could see right through that; that was the tone he used when he was pretending he was sorry about something. (That is, when he made the effort to make it sound convincing.) 'This is the third time you have been late to my lesson this week Miss Colverson' the teacher replied sternly as she stalked to the front of the room glaring irritatedly. The girl however looked unabashed and directly ignored the angry comment, but muttered something that sounded very much like 'cow' as she passed Frank's desk, heading towards her seat.
The corners of Franks mouth twitched.
The teacher waited in sarcastic silence as the girl took her books and pen out of her bag and had put the bag under her desk before announcing todays work to the class. They were to work in either groups or alone, analysing the poems which had just been put down on their desk, and after the analysing (here the teacher had to call for calm as several cheers ran around the room at the mention of group work with friends) they were to write their own poem on the same theme of the one they had just been given. Frank could see people furtively glancing at their friends and subtly nodding to show they were working with each other. At the teacher's command, the sound of chairs scraping backwards and tables being put together filled the room and the teacher took this opportunity to walk over to Frank who was sat alone, organising the paper on his desk.
'New here?' she asked, her attitude very much different from the one she had just adopted for the girl who had walked in late. If that's how it went, this attitude wouldn't last very long with him, he had every intention to turn up late and miss half the lesson (in doing so, half the torments) and it was only by error that he had got there early that morning. Frank looked blankly at her for a few seconds before replying 'Yes.' The teacher nodded to herself as if she had been intelligent to work out that he must be new since she had never seen him before. 'Thought so. Well I hope you're a hard worker, this is a mixed ability class but we'll be putting you to the test to see if you're up to the standards I want.'
Frank stared in disbelievement at the patronising tone in her voice. The teacher didn't seem satisfied with this lack of reply and prodded him for an answer. 'Err..Yeah' Frank croaked, his voice funny from absence of speech. 'Good.' She said smiling What's your name?' Another silence. 'So I can add you to the register' she prodded. 'Frank' He croaked feeling stupid. 'Mhmm' The teacher scribbled the name down into her notebook with a pencil. 'Last name?' Frank cleared his throat 'Er, Iero?' he asked all too aware of how dim he probably sounded, as he felt the red flush rising up his cheeks. The teacher didn't seem very impressed either.
'Well I guess that's all. Lets see how you get on analysing this poem. Yes Miss Colverson?' She asked suddenly as Frank turned to see the girl who had walked in late stood behind him. 'I was just going ask if Frank wanted to work with me' she stated, pointing quickly at Frank who in turn, turned bright red. The teacher straightened up from her crouched postion besides Frank's desk, Gesturing to the seat besides Frank. The girl took this as an indication and walked over to it. 'It looks like you've made a good impression Mr Iero' The teacher said before working her way towards her desk. Frank just sat there with his neglected hair and crumpled clothes, one eyebrow raised behind his scruffy fringe.
'Don't mind her' said the new girl matter of factly as she sat down besides Frank, bringing him back out of his confused thoughts. 'She's always like that with new students, she'll eventually grow to hate you like she does everyone else.' Frank stuttered a little. He wasn't used to people talking to him politely. 'Err, yeah sure' he replied in a surly without really thinking about what she said. 'So I guess I already know your name Frank, my name's Lolita ' the girl introduced herself and offered her outstretched hand which Frank shook gingerly after an awkward pause. He noticed she wore many different bracelets and wristbands on each of her arms. 'Um hi' Frank responded, unsure of what to say. Lolita apparently didn't either and a shy silence fell between them.
After many minutes of Lolita and Frank both staring at the paper, they got started on the task the teacher had set them. Frank decided it best not to make an extremely bad impression in his first English lesson even though Lolita said the teacher would probably hate him anyway, but the task turned out to be an easy one, as Frank soon found out, you could make up any old rubbish as long as you could think of a reason why the poem might mean that.
By the time the bell rang signalling the end of lesson, their page was full of ideas and annotations of words, with a list of possible themes running down the side of the paper. The teacher came round to collect everybody's work before they left, stopping at Frank and Lolita's table where she praised him for his good efforts in the lesson, ignoring Lolita's contributions completely. Frank could tell that Lolita and this teacher didn't get on too well. Lolita rose and stood awkwardly by the side of the table, her bag slung over one shoulder and her hands fiddling with one of the bangles on her thin wrist.
'Um..What lesson do you have next?' She asked shyly to Frank who was still sat at the table slowly packing away his possessions. He dug out his timetable at Lolita's question, his ears turning pink at the thought of it. 'Err..Maths.' Frank groaned inwardly to himself. Lolita had obviously seen the look of regret on his face though and she smiled shyly. 'I have physics, guess I'll see you next lesson?' Frank looked down at his timetable again as he stood, slinging his bag over his head and saw that he had English again next. 'We have English twice in the same day?'
'Yes' Lolita answered 'I think we're writing our own poems next or something, I hope you're good because I'm useless at it.'
Frank opened his mouth to say that he wasn't good at anything but at that point the teacher noticed they were the only two students left in the room and so shoved them out into the corridor. 'Bye.' Lolita hurried her farewell as she turned right, heading off to her next lesson and disappearing into the throng of the crowd, her patchwork jacket just visible through the small spaces not occupied by other students. Frank sighed, after that okay lesson, he would now have to face being tormented by his maths class. He hoped hard that none of them were any of the boys that had cornered him the day before. He could just imagine the rumours already.
Grimacing at the thought, Frank started to turn left with a mind (albeit a reluctant one) to head to his next lesson. When he was halfway down the corridor, however, he had a change of heart and turned back, heading in the opposite direction. He didn't want to go to maths, so he wouldn't, he'd decided reasoning that he would come back for the next lesson. 'Anyway,' Frank thought to himself as he headed out of the double doors and into the almost empty grounds, walked up the path, and headed out of the school back towards his house and the park 'I guess I've got some thanking to do.'
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