Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Love You To Death (Frikey)
Dinner at this new English house was much more…well normal than I had been trying to mentally prepare myself for. It was just like a typical American dinner in a house full of lots of hungry people. Everyone talked over each other excitedly, Mom and James asked the girls about school stuff (even though it was the weekend)and nobody wanted to help clear the table and wash up afterwards. I usually did my best to make up an excuse as to why I couldn`t help clean up, but after carful consideration, ignoring my body screaming at me to not do it, I half heartedly agreed to help. I figured that it would be best not to go straight up to my new room yet and begin to unpack as it would give Frankie more time to decide whether or not he was leaving with or without his snowy white teeth.
After slowly taking my time with the washing up, making sure to dry all of the many plates and forks thoroughly by hand, I trudge into the spacious living room, where the three girls were sitting, talking excitedly. They all look up when they hear me enter, and they flash me warm and welcoming, albeit slightly shaky smiles before returning to their conversation. I sigh and plonk my tired, aching backside down on a spare chair, trying to think of anything apart from the incredibly cute, dead guy that was in my room.
I think back with a slight aching in my chest about how things had been before we moved here. Before mum had met James and married him, before I had been forced to leave everything I had ever known behind. I recall the many years we had spent just the two of us, it had been a struggle most of the time, but it wasn`t all that bad. Not really. I purposefully skip past that fateful, stormy October evening, the one that had cruelly robbed me of a parent and older,caring brother.
To tell the truth, I didn`t really miss my dad all that much. I mean it hurt, and I wished he was still alive, but I missed Gerard more. Dad was never really around, always working, but Gerard, he was always there. Whenever I had a bad day at school, or had tripped over and scrapped my scarred, awkwardly pale knees, the raven haired older boy had always been the first to help me, to bandage my wounds. I remember the day we buried them both, in opposite graves. I remember everyone going on and on about what a promising, bright future Gerard would have had, and how terrible it was. I remember being told that I would never see him again, but I knew that wasn`t true.
He was dead alright, but I saw him again. I waited in his untidy, untouched bedroom for weeks, waiting for him to come back. They all told me it was pointless that he was gone and wasn`t going to come back. I knew they were wrong. Because he did.
In fact I saw the pale skinned, ebony haired teenager even more now than I did when he was alive, if that was even possible. One of his favourite things to do as just materialise when I least expected it. It was always nice to see him, but he did have a bad habit of showing up at the worst possible times.
After a while, Mum and James walk in, hand in hand, smiling like lovesick teenagers.
“Why don`t we all watch a movie together?” He suggests, holding up an unopened DVD box, and smiling cheerily. We all nod, just happy to go along with it. I was too tired to disagree to be honest.
Mum sits down next to me, getting ready to watch the chosen film. James sits on the edge of the seat next to her, wrapping one arm loosely around her thin shoulders.
As I nibble on the salty popcorn that one of James`s kids had prepared, I wonder what Gerard would make of all this. He hadn`t exactly been over the moon when he had found out we were moving to England.
“How the fuck am I supposed to pop in and see you when you in another fucking country?!” he had practically demanded an answer from me when I had regretfully told him.
“Mikey, sweetie?” I feel a cool, pale hand gently prodding me in the side. Turns out I had fallen asleep about halfway through the movie, leaning on my mother’s lap like a sad little ten year old kid.
“We didn`t want to wake you,” She explains as I stare a little irritated. “Because you must be so tired after that long journey today.”
I just nod and sit up, rubbing my tired eyes, not caring that I smudged my black eyeliner.
“Maybe you should go up and have an early night. Or at least go and get into some more comfortable clothes.”
I nod and mumble a quick, groggy reply, in my still half asleep state just stopping myself from saying that I would have, had it not been for the dead punkish looking guy in my room. As hot as he was, I didn`t want to get changed in front of him. Not that he would have been interested anyway.
“Night Ma.” I kiss her forehead lightly and drag my sorry butt upstairs.
I find much to my completely surprised when I open the door, that I was alone. Like alone, alone in a ghost free zone. Exactly what I had always wanted.
So why did I feel a small, strange ache in my chest? It wasn`t like I missed Frankie. He was annoying and rude. Not to mention dead.
I climb into my warm, freshly made bed, kicking off my skinnies as I did so, closing my weary, hazel eyes.
Just before I fell asleep, I was sure that I could hear something, or rather someone strumming a haunting, captivating melody on a guitar, but I ignored putting it down to the wind or the sound of the stormy sea crashing against the shore.
After slowly taking my time with the washing up, making sure to dry all of the many plates and forks thoroughly by hand, I trudge into the spacious living room, where the three girls were sitting, talking excitedly. They all look up when they hear me enter, and they flash me warm and welcoming, albeit slightly shaky smiles before returning to their conversation. I sigh and plonk my tired, aching backside down on a spare chair, trying to think of anything apart from the incredibly cute, dead guy that was in my room.
I think back with a slight aching in my chest about how things had been before we moved here. Before mum had met James and married him, before I had been forced to leave everything I had ever known behind. I recall the many years we had spent just the two of us, it had been a struggle most of the time, but it wasn`t all that bad. Not really. I purposefully skip past that fateful, stormy October evening, the one that had cruelly robbed me of a parent and older,caring brother.
To tell the truth, I didn`t really miss my dad all that much. I mean it hurt, and I wished he was still alive, but I missed Gerard more. Dad was never really around, always working, but Gerard, he was always there. Whenever I had a bad day at school, or had tripped over and scrapped my scarred, awkwardly pale knees, the raven haired older boy had always been the first to help me, to bandage my wounds. I remember the day we buried them both, in opposite graves. I remember everyone going on and on about what a promising, bright future Gerard would have had, and how terrible it was. I remember being told that I would never see him again, but I knew that wasn`t true.
He was dead alright, but I saw him again. I waited in his untidy, untouched bedroom for weeks, waiting for him to come back. They all told me it was pointless that he was gone and wasn`t going to come back. I knew they were wrong. Because he did.
In fact I saw the pale skinned, ebony haired teenager even more now than I did when he was alive, if that was even possible. One of his favourite things to do as just materialise when I least expected it. It was always nice to see him, but he did have a bad habit of showing up at the worst possible times.
After a while, Mum and James walk in, hand in hand, smiling like lovesick teenagers.
“Why don`t we all watch a movie together?” He suggests, holding up an unopened DVD box, and smiling cheerily. We all nod, just happy to go along with it. I was too tired to disagree to be honest.
Mum sits down next to me, getting ready to watch the chosen film. James sits on the edge of the seat next to her, wrapping one arm loosely around her thin shoulders.
As I nibble on the salty popcorn that one of James`s kids had prepared, I wonder what Gerard would make of all this. He hadn`t exactly been over the moon when he had found out we were moving to England.
“How the fuck am I supposed to pop in and see you when you in another fucking country?!” he had practically demanded an answer from me when I had regretfully told him.
“Mikey, sweetie?” I feel a cool, pale hand gently prodding me in the side. Turns out I had fallen asleep about halfway through the movie, leaning on my mother’s lap like a sad little ten year old kid.
“We didn`t want to wake you,” She explains as I stare a little irritated. “Because you must be so tired after that long journey today.”
I just nod and sit up, rubbing my tired eyes, not caring that I smudged my black eyeliner.
“Maybe you should go up and have an early night. Or at least go and get into some more comfortable clothes.”
I nod and mumble a quick, groggy reply, in my still half asleep state just stopping myself from saying that I would have, had it not been for the dead punkish looking guy in my room. As hot as he was, I didn`t want to get changed in front of him. Not that he would have been interested anyway.
“Night Ma.” I kiss her forehead lightly and drag my sorry butt upstairs.
I find much to my completely surprised when I open the door, that I was alone. Like alone, alone in a ghost free zone. Exactly what I had always wanted.
So why did I feel a small, strange ache in my chest? It wasn`t like I missed Frankie. He was annoying and rude. Not to mention dead.
I climb into my warm, freshly made bed, kicking off my skinnies as I did so, closing my weary, hazel eyes.
Just before I fell asleep, I was sure that I could hear something, or rather someone strumming a haunting, captivating melody on a guitar, but I ignored putting it down to the wind or the sound of the stormy sea crashing against the shore.
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