FicWad

I sigh contentedly, stretching out on the hotel bed. We had pooled together our money for 2 nights in this town before we move on to the next one. Our goal is to get to California. I looked down at my muddy clothing. I got off my bed and grabbed a pair of black skinny jeans, misfit’s tee-shirt, and my white hoodie. I check to make sure Gerard was still in the shower and that Mikey was still asleep on the couch. I stripped down to my boxers, and slid into my skinny jeans, which were too big for me, even though they were smalls. I turned to grab my shirt and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Looking back at me was a skinny 17 year old boy. Looking closer I saw that my side was a mix of purple, black, and brown. Another bruise extended across my torso from shoulder to hip. From where my seatbelt had locked up last night. I twisted, looking at my back, under the layer of yellowed bruises; I saw the red cuts that stretched the length of my upper back.
Flashback
I twisted the lock on my door, trying my best to keep him out. I backed away from the door as it started splintering from the weight of my father’s blows. He’s gonna get in said the voice in the back of my head. NO! I thought frantically. I won’t let him. I turned towards my dresser, to slide it in front of the door, but before I could even take a step forward the door flew open and my father staggered in, reeking of alcohol. “Whatcha runnin fer?” he slurred. Slowly moving towards me, I tried to back away but I hit the wall. I had nowhere to run. He had me cornered. Taking a chance I tried to duck under his arm and running towards the door but before I had gotten more than 3 feet he grabbed me by my hair and shoved me into the dresser by the door. My head hit the corner of the desk with a sickening crack. The last thing I could remember was looking up to see him laughing. When I woke up I was on the floor of the bedroom covered in blood.
I blinked, realizing I was still half-naked, standing in front of the mirror. I froze as soon as I looked at the doorway. I should have noticed that Mikey had stopped snoring! I mentally scolded myself as I rushed to get myself covered before Mikey reached the door. No such luck. The door opened as I finally found the shirt.
“Frank? Where are-“Mikey started but was cut off as I shut and locked the door and hurriedly dressed.
When I finally got myself into my hoodie I opened the door. “Sorry” I say, forcing a smirk on my face “I was changing.”
“And I couldn’t come in why? Since when do you care?” He asked, looking suspicious.
I just shrugged, not wanting to give anything away. He looked skeptical but doesn’t push the subject.
“Have a good nap?” I ask not wanting to give him the time to dwell on why I wouldn’t let him in.
“Yeah, I had this awesome dream! There was this unicorn, which are real, and…” As he continued about his dream I started to zone out, but I pretended to listen.
Suddenly Mikey tackles me off the couch and onto the floor.
“What was that for?” I ask, trying to breath with 150 pounds of a unicorn loving Mikey sitting on my chest.
“You weren’t listening.” He said as if that was a perfectly logical reason to tackle someone.
“Please get off of me” I wheezed, not having much success with breathing.
“No, you weren’t listening to me!” Mikey insisted.
“Okay I wasn’t listening. Now get up!” I said.
Finally he got up and grabbing my forearm pulled me up. I accidentally yelped as his fingers dug into the cuts on my arm.
“What?” He asked, quickly letting go of my arm.
“Nothing.” I lied, trying to think of another excuse “I am just sore from the car.”
Before Mikey could argue Gerard walked out of the bathroom in only a pair of purple skinny jeans his hair dripping water down his face “What are you two arguing about?”
“He’s being all secretive!” Mikey whined.
“I am not! He’s just paranoid.” I countered, smiling at the look on Mikey’s face.
“Hmmm…Mikes?” Gee asked.
“Yeah?”
“Can you go get us food from the store? I’m hungry.” Gee said, handing about 75 dollars to Mikey.
“Fine.” Mikey took the money and stomped out the door.
Gerard then turned to me.
“So, what are you hiding?” He asked, watching me closely “And aren’t you hot? It’s like 70 degrees in hear.”
“No, I’m fine.” I stutter, instinctively pulling my sleeves lower.
He caught the movement. I tried playing it off as just straightening out the hoodie but he wasn’t buying it.
“Take off the hoodie,” He commanded, “and the t-shirt.”
“No!” I stammer, “Ummmmmm…”
He moves toward me and starts to unzip the front of my hoodie. As much as I struggle and twist I can’t get him off of me. Soon I am standing in the living room in just my pants. I wrap my arms around my torso, trying to hide myself. I was ugly, scarred, and bruised. Imperfect. Gerard reached out to brush my hair out of my eyes but I flinch, jerking myself out of his reach.
“Don’t touch me!” I snap.
I turned and fled to the safety of the bathroom. The cold tile pulling me back to earth. I twist the lock on the door so no one can get in.
“Frankie, please open the door,” Gerard pleads from the other side of the door, “please, let me in…”
I ignore his voice and start rummaging through the cabinets till I found it, my medical box. I threw everything on the floor till I found what I was looking for, my razor.
“Frank!” Gerard’s frantic voice came again, “Please, just come out of there. What are you doing?”
He must have heard me searching for something and put two and two together.
“I’m coping.” I whisper, bringing the blade to my skin and watching as the skin split, blood flowing freely. I made another cut, then another. Somewhere through the haze of pain I made another cut, then something broke. I felt everything with such clarity. It was amazing. I looked down at my arm, which looked reminiscent to a quilt top guitar. The different shades of red flowing together so beautifully. I transferred the blade to my other hand and started on the other arm. My reality crashed down on me everything my father had ever done to me, every ex who had ever done anything.
“You deserved it.” Came the voice in the back of my head.
“I know.” I whisper. I felt the sting in my arms and as I looked down I realized I had cut too deep. The blood was flowing too freely. I knew I had to stop the blood, but I really didn’t want to. Suddenly I heard a click and looked up to see Mikey with a bobby pin in his hand. He had picked the lock. Gerard was standing behind him. Then everything went dark…
Gerard’s POV
“We need to get him to a hospital!” Mikey yelped, looking panicked.
“No, we can’t he’s being searched for remember?” I said, panicking myself.
I look at the floor and see the stitches kit. Just thinking about holding the needle made me want to puke, but if we didn’t do something he was gonna die.
“Mikey…do you know how to do stitches?” I asked, praying he would say yes.
“Umm… I can sew, but I’ve never t-tried it on a person.” He stuttered, turning white.
“Well, can you try?” I ask. “He’s gonna die if we don’t do something fast.”
Suddenly, Mikey’s demeanor changed. He turned back to Frank and started looking at his arms.
“Gee.” He said, not meeting my eyes. “I need your lighter…”
I looked at his face. I could tell he wasn’t excited about what he was gonna do next. I dug through my pockets till I found my lighter. As I passed it to Mikey I had a realization. This was my fault. If I hadn’t pushed him as hard as I did, he would be fine… but the scars and bruises… those didn’t look like something he could have inflicted on himself. The smell of something burning pulled me back to reality.
“Mikey!” I yelled, “What are you doing…you need to help him, not hurt him worse.”
Mikey didn’t even flinch at my reaction. Calmly, he stated “This is stopping the bleeding so he won’t bleed out. I’m not hurting him, I’m saving him.”
Sitting on the edge of the tub I felt tears in my eyes but I just ignored them. “I can’t lose him again, Mikes…”I whisper.
I know, Gee…I’m doing the best I can.”
By now Mikey had started sewing his wounds closed. I sat guard as Mikey sewed, cleaned, and bandaged Frankie’s arms. When he was done I we started to get him up off the ground when I looked at his back.
He has cuts across his back, looking only 3 days old at most. He’s not telling us everything, I thought. This wasn’t done by him, it’s not physically possible.
“Mikey…” I say, my voice cracking slightly, “Look at his back.”
Mikey looked at his back for a few minutes, inspecting his wounds.
“As far as I can tell, they aren’t infected, but we should keep an eye on them anyway.” Mikey said, sounding unsure.
Neither of us were experts, but we had both had our fair share of wounds. We carried Frankie over to the bedroom and laid him on the bed to rest till he wakes up. Mikey left the room as soon as he was covered but I stayed by the bed for a few minutes, not sure what to do…
“I’m sorry Frankie…” I whisper knowing he can’t hear me. “I love you…” I walk to the door to leave Frank to rest and I saw Mikey sitting on the couch watching me as I left Frank’s room.
“He loves you , you know?” Mikey said, looking at me calmly.
“No he doesn’t …” I said, looking down.
Mikey didn’t say anything he just shook his head.
“So what happened anyways?” Mikey asked.
While I told Mikey everything I looked out the window. I knew it was my fault, but I was only trying to help him. When I finished telling Mikey everything, he stayed quiet for a few minutes.
Then “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know how he was gonna react.” He said soothingly, walking over to me. He put his arm around my shoulder comfortingly, “He’s gonna be okay…”