Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Save Me From My Self Destruction, Hopeless For Ya..
Save Me From My Self Destruction, Hopeless For Ya..
2 reviewsFrank is a lonely teenager, trying to cope with the death of his mother and a father that uses him as a punch bag. What happens when the seemingly perfect Gerard is put into the picture? [Frank's POV]
1Ambiance
12 March 2011.
That was the day of my mother's funeral. I'd never really been to a funeral before. Everyone was dressed in black and seem sullen and gloomy for the first half of the day, and when the wake arrived, everyone seemed ecstatic and were more than happy to get wasted off of the booze that my family had paid for. And they call that respect.
I trudged into my bedroom, smiling weakly at the silence of the house, but my smile quickly faded when I caught myself in the mirror. Staring back at my was a small, fat boy, with tattoos and piercings, and many bruises. I frowned deeply, tears forming in my eyes as I reached into my drawer. Mom knew what I was doing. She knew about my secret. I rolled up my sleeve and dragged the glass quickly along my bare flesh. I hissed as I felt the sharp sting sear through my arm as I continued to slice, but then I felt giddy, and began to giggle to myself as I watched the blood dribble down my arm onto my white carpet.
I flopped onto my bed, my eyes getting droopy and I knew what I needed to keep myself awake; a hit of cocaine. Again. Nothing like a quick fix to ease your pain, eh? I created a neat line of the fine white powder and kneeled onto the floor in front of my bedside cabinet. I closed one nostril with my finger and began to sniff it up. I licked the rest of the cocaine off of the cabinet and collapsed onto the floor. I have school tomorrow. That means Micheal or whoever he is being pushy with me again.
God, I need a fag.
You are a fag, Frank..
My eyes watered again as my mind used the insult that my body couldn't stand, and I lunged for the glass again, this time pushing it deep into my stomach, a bloodcurdling scream escaped my lips as a staggering figure pushed open my bedroom door. I tossed the glass behind me and began to cower into a corner. I could smell alcohol strongly on his breath, his eyes were wide and his nostrils were flaring. I closed my eyes, preparing myself for the first blow.
That was the day of my mother's funeral. I'd never really been to a funeral before. Everyone was dressed in black and seem sullen and gloomy for the first half of the day, and when the wake arrived, everyone seemed ecstatic and were more than happy to get wasted off of the booze that my family had paid for. And they call that respect.
I trudged into my bedroom, smiling weakly at the silence of the house, but my smile quickly faded when I caught myself in the mirror. Staring back at my was a small, fat boy, with tattoos and piercings, and many bruises. I frowned deeply, tears forming in my eyes as I reached into my drawer. Mom knew what I was doing. She knew about my secret. I rolled up my sleeve and dragged the glass quickly along my bare flesh. I hissed as I felt the sharp sting sear through my arm as I continued to slice, but then I felt giddy, and began to giggle to myself as I watched the blood dribble down my arm onto my white carpet.
I flopped onto my bed, my eyes getting droopy and I knew what I needed to keep myself awake; a hit of cocaine. Again. Nothing like a quick fix to ease your pain, eh? I created a neat line of the fine white powder and kneeled onto the floor in front of my bedside cabinet. I closed one nostril with my finger and began to sniff it up. I licked the rest of the cocaine off of the cabinet and collapsed onto the floor. I have school tomorrow. That means Micheal or whoever he is being pushy with me again.
God, I need a fag.
You are a fag, Frank..
My eyes watered again as my mind used the insult that my body couldn't stand, and I lunged for the glass again, this time pushing it deep into my stomach, a bloodcurdling scream escaped my lips as a staggering figure pushed open my bedroom door. I tossed the glass behind me and began to cower into a corner. I could smell alcohol strongly on his breath, his eyes were wide and his nostrils were flaring. I closed my eyes, preparing myself for the first blow.
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