FicWad

Gerard’s POV
I tried to remember where I was and found I couldn’t. All I remembered was Frank. Frank Iero. He was my boyfriend. Or was he … No my heart throbbed in my chest and told me that he wasn’t, not anymore, anyway. My head lay on a surface that was hard, it hurt. I pressed my forehead against it, embracing the cold pain of the object; it helped to numb my aching head. I thought of Frank, of his hair as he pushed it back roughly behind his ears, annoyed at it. He had once told me he was going to cut it and I had threatened to strangle him with his own hair if he dared to touch it. His eyebrows had shot up, his expression trying to look shocked but he had kissed me lightly and told me he wouldn’t. We had hugged then, holding each other close. I promised myself I would never let him go but I had let him go.
My arms were now around me, trying to make me feel less alone but it wasn’t working. I was alone, alone and scared. I pictured Frank in my mind, the last time I had seen him, he was scowling down at his hands with red rimmed eyes. I wondered why I was sitting across the room from him in my memory, why I wasn’t stroking his hair or whispering ‘I love you’s’ in his ear; why I wasn’t comforting him. I was in a small den, I think. No, I remember. I was at school, behind the basketball courts in my friends little den. My friends. Did I still have friends? I thought that I did but wasn’t sure. I remembered their faces. Bob. Alisha. Ray. Ray was kind, so kind. He had even been kind when I had told him I had hit … I had hit Frankie. Why had I done that?! I didn’t know. I tried to remember but found I couldn’t.
“Go on Gerard. Hit me again, why don’t you?!”
The blank, plain expression that the angry voice had come from didn’t quite match and I wondered if I had got it wrong. But it was Frank’s voice saying the words, my Frank. I drifted back to my memory and realised something was missing, someone was missing. Sitting next to Frank, there had been someone, someone I knew. They had grabbed me when I had tried to run away. Why had I tried to run away? My hand traced my cheek, which was sodden with salty tears. My heart thudded as I thought of the pairs of eyes which had watched me as I had walked clumsily to the exit. A pair of hands had pulled me back and I had shoved them away. When they came back, my hands shot out, unbalancing the figure and the smash of glass could be heard by everyone in the room. I remembered the slight stench of blood, why was that smell not unusual to me? The blood was coming from the boy on the floor. His face was only slightly scratched by the glass which must have come from his glasses, the frames lying on the floor besides him.
“Gerard, I love you!”
The boy had said these words before I had pushed him. A boy I didn’t even remember. The smell of blood was strong now and I tried to think where the smell might be coming from, the boy’s face had only been scratched a little so where was such a strong smell coming from. I could feel myself drifting back to the present but I focused hard on the strange boy’s face instead, not ready for cold, harsh reality just yet.
“Remember, I love you no matter what,”
It was my voice, my love filled voice. I didn’t even remember saying it but I knew that when I had said it, pride and joy filling my eyes, I had spoken it to the strange boy. Yet I still couldn’t remember his name. An image floated to the front of my brain. It was Frank and he was smiling, a tender and loving smile on his face. His hands were clasped around a pair of hands. But they weren’t my hands … Why weren’t they my hands? He was shuffling closer to the boy and then suddenly they were kissing, their hands searching each other’s bodies, their hearts pumping fast. The boy had leapt onto Frank and was stroking his hair, biting his neck so I could see Frank’s face. He was facing me and he had a look of disgust on his face. Not at the boy, he hardly seemed to care that the boy was stroking him and desperately trying to get Frank’s top off above his head. He only looked at me with that disgust on his face. If I could only pull myself back to the present, I knew that tears would be running down my face and that I would be screaming, crying out for Frank maybe. I wanted him to forgive me.
“Go on Gerard. Hit me again, why don’t you?!”
One red cheek as he turned from me, walking out of my life. My arm hanging dead and my face shocked at what it had just done. Frank’s eyes were shining with tears as he exited my room. I hung out my bedroom window, screaming after him, my throat sore from the shouts which filled the air outside. Not caring who heard me. Not caring who saw me. Only caring about Frank. But as the boy began to thrust against Frank in my head, as slow moans echoed from them both, Frank smirked at me and turned towards the boy. He whispered his name softly at first then louder, rocking back and forth with him.
“Mikey…Mi-key…MIKEY!”
My brother looked up at him with lust and love in his eyes. Frank had the same expression. A new memory. I was running faster than I had ever done before, my legs threatening to collapse underneath me with every step. I panted but found out that the faster I ran the harder it was to cry and scream out his name. So I ran. I didn’t know where, until I saw the house looming in front of me. Mum greeted me at the door but I ignored her confused expression as she glanced at the clock and headed for my room, grabbing an object from under my bed and walking straight towards the bathroom, locking it behind me. Was that where I was then?
The lights hurt my eyes as I focused on the object in front of me. It was clean and white. I moved my head away from it realising I had been pressing my head too hard against the corner of the bath. The room spun and I tried to stop it, feeling sick, focusing on a spot on the floor. There sat the razor blade, its sharp corners beckoning me towards it, asking me softly, whispering if I was ready. I think that I am ready now. The sweet release of it would be nice, the cutting would relax me and I thought nothing of picking up the cold object and shredding the skin. Little sharp movements as I ripped the white canvas of my wrists, arms, torso, legs, knees; any white skin I could find with my eyes. But it wasn’t enough. I could still see the bright lights. I could still feel my heart pumping in chest. I could still hear …
Wait, what could I hear? A banging sound, a continuous sound, irritating me and making me frown. I could hear a whining sound too, a cry from behind the locked door on the bathroom. I think it was my Mum. I tried to focus on what she was saying but the crying made the words sound odd and not quite right. I imagined her speaking, whispering to me, her voice starting to make more sense as I gripped the blade tighter against my wrists.
“Gerard, please! You know you want to, wouldn’t it be so must easily? Just imagine … The darkness … The blackness… The never ending chill of death …”
I smiled at the voice and was about to reply when I heard pairs of feet climb the stairs, thumping as they sprinted up towards the door.
“Gerard!”
Mikey’s voice was filled with fear as his hands joined our mother’s, banging on the door.
“What’s he doing in there?!” I know he was probably addressing our Mother but another voice answered him.
“I think I know.”
It was him. He was here. He had come to hear me die, to watch me even. He had come to beg me to do it. I know he wanted it more than he could say. But would he beg me to die in front of Mikey? Mikey didn’t want to me die. As much I now hated him for making to feel like my heart was being clawed out of my chest, I know he didn’t want me to die.
“Gerard, can you hear me?”
The voice came again. A voice that just a few months ago, my heart would have melted at. I would have giggled and bit my lip to keep back a smile at the sound of his voice. But now everything had changed.
“Please Gerard; just tell me if you can hear me?”
The voice was calm and emotionless. Of course it was, had I expected him to cry with tears running down his face as he clutched desperately at the handle, begging me to open the door and let him in. He would tell me he loved me and would never wish me dead! No, he loved Mikey, of course he did.
“I’m still here…”
I slapped myself hard in the face, the sound echoing around the bathroom. How could I be so stupid?! Why had I answered him! I didn’t love him, didn’t even like him. He had no control over me anymore. Yet the sad, pathetic voice that had come out of my throat said otherwise.
“Gerard, remember that day when we made love for the first time?”
The voice was still calm and I was glad that he couldn’t see my face as I blushed darkly. But I realised that it wasn’t because Mum and Mikey were stood right there that I was blushing. It was the thought that maybe he still thought of that day, lusted over it. I hated him and he still had the power to make me blush!
“Ummm…” I muttered in answer to him.
“And remember when I saw your scars for the first time?”
“Ummm…”
“You were all shocked and upset. I really didn’t know what to do, but I just held you in my arms and you cried for what felt like hours. I knew then that I would never stop loving you. At that moment, you were always going to be mine.”
There was a pause as he sighed into the door.
“I didn’t know what to say to make you feel better and I didn’t know what to do to make it all okay! I’m sorry that I made it worse. I’m sorry I’ve made you like this!”
I could feel myself start to cry. Why would he think that? Why would he think he had done this? This was all me, sure he had hurt me but people break up all the time, right? I was sad and pathetic, I couldn’t cope. I had upset everyone I had ever loved with my stupid cutting and now, I had upset them all again with this stunt! I wanted to throw open the door and embrace him, I wanted to say that I would only choose to live if he would live with me, spend his life with me.
“I knew then that I would never stop loving you.”
Wait, he said he still loved me. I let hope arise in my chest. He loves me. Frank loves me.
“But things are different now. You know it and I know it! And … we both need to accept that this is the end of us. I’m happy with Mikey and he’s happy with me. Think of what it would do to Mikey if you died. What it would do to your Mum. To me. Because Gerard, just because I don’t love you like that, doesn’t mean I feel nothing for you. Like I said, I will always love you. I love you, Gerard! No please open the fucking door!”
My heart lay in a million pieces at my feet. What do I do now? I thought of Mikey, heard his cries outside the door. I had kept myself alive because of Mikey. He needed me. Maybe not as much as I needed him but when he was upset the other night, I had comforted him. He had been upset when trying to tell me something…
“I can’t do it to Gee.”
He had been upset about telling me about Frank. He loved Frank. He had been with Frank and his friends didn’t care. Mum would have come round eventually; Mikey had always been her favourite son. He didn’t need me anymore. Frank didn’t need me. Mikey didn’t need me. Neither did Mum or any of the other guys. I wasn’t needed here anymore. I sighed, a long drawn out sound and picked up the razor blade. Everything Frank had said had been true but the pain with every breath I took, every second I was still alive was too much. I looked into my reflection in the mirror, staring at the pale ugly monster which looked back. I loved Frank. I loved Mikey. I loved my Mum. I loved Ray, Bob, Alisha… Why couldn’t I have loved myself in this life like they had loved me?
My hand was shaking slightly but I steadied it with my other hand. It was the right thing to do. I thought this over and over again as I raised the blade to my throat, holding it in position.
“Mum, I love you so much,” a calm and loud voice spoke out from inside my chest.
This was greeted with silence so I continued.
“Mikey, I love you little brother. Take care, yeah?”
Gasps came from the other side of the door. Cries from Mikey and Mum.
“Don’t you fucking dare, you selfish BASTARD!” Frank screamed at me, the door starting to shake as he shoved himself against it.
“Frank, I’ll never stop loving you.”
A single tear dripped down my cheek. I stared at the reflection one last time and smiled to myself.
The action was quick as I pressed the blade hard against my throat and pulled it across, spilling lumps of flesh and blood onto the floor.
My last sight was my dying self, my neck and face caked with thick blood, shimmering in the bathroom light.
I had never looked so beautiful.