FicWad

Chapter one

I curled up, letting my black hair sweep across my face. In the dark corner, I was hidden from them, those monsters. I let my fingers feel down to my leg and winced when pressing down on a bruise. Just another day.

Just another freaking day.

They’d ganged up on my in the toilets between classes, this time. They’d teased me, spat on me. Told me I was worthless. They asked me; why can’t I just die? Why can’t I just join my “pansy brother”? I tried to lose myself, in my head, into my words. I am not afraid to keep on living. They shook me, hard. They tried to get me to respond to their taunts. I am not afraid to walk this world alone. But I was scared, because they had started pushing me around. Shoving me, passing me between them like I was a ball to be played with. And I just let them, helpless, alone. Honey, if you stay I’ll be forgiven. They threw me onto the floor, making me bite my cheek as I crashed down, and they towered over me, jeering at me. Nothing you can say will stop me going home. I couldn‘t cry. I mustn’t cry.

I promised myself. I wouldn’t cry.

But they kicked; they punched; they pinched and pulled my hair. My eyes watered from the pain, but I didn’t cry. Or was that just one more promise I couldn’t keep? I could feel the blood trickle down my scalp; making hot sticky drips were I laid my head. And I let them do it. I let them pull me to pieces, only so they can watch me heal. Only so they can do it again. And again. And again.

And here I am. I’m safe here, in the dark, where no one can see my face; no one can see my scars. Alone is better than nothing, right?

I am an eighteen year old student. My name is Gerard Way.

Chapter two

The final bell rang and I jumped up from my seat. Hurrying out the door and scampering down corridors I made my way to the other side of the school. To the music block. Going through those doors let me heave out a sigh of relief. My face was blotchy, black and purple, from yesterday’s encounter with those twats. I hate them. But walking though the familiar rooms made me lift up my chin. I didn’t belong here, I knew that, I didn’t belong anywhere, but at least I wasn’t having my life kicked out of me. Now turn away, because I’m awful just to see. I hummed my own tunes, but quickly stopped, I didn’t want to be reminded of this one. Blinking my eyes rapidly, trying to clear them, I walked into an empty practice room. I opened up my bag, beginning to hum, pulling out a folder of my lyrics. Scanning them, I found the one I was looking for. Now in private, I started to sing freely.

‘When I was a young boy.’ My fingers found the notes on the piano, and they lazily glided over the memorized sequence.

‘My father took me into the city to see a marching band.’ My voice was quiet, hardly audible over the piano.

‘He said son when you grow up, would you be the saviour of the broken, the beaten and the damned?’ I let my eyes glaze over, forgetting about my past life, losing myself in this haven.
‘He said will you defeat them? Your demons? And all the non-believers? The plans that they have made?’ I took a deep breath.

‘Because one day I’ll leave you a phantom to lead you in the summer to join the black parade.’ My voice had grown, and I had to stop myself; remember who I was, where I was. When the piano had faded off into silence I heard a guitar from a room further down. I opened my door, letting the noise travel through, it wasn’t noise, though, it was beautiful. It was the exact thing that was needed to make my words come alive. It was perfect. Because playing from down the hall were the chords being strummed away to my song! It was, heartbreaking, it was heart lifting, and it was everything. I didn’t think, I just followed the music until it got louder and louder, until I was standing outside a plain door. I hung my head, leaning it on the cool wood, and just absorbed the magnificence of it all. Someone inside the room was playing my music. Plain old Gerard’s music...but it didn’t sound like mine, it sounded magical. Magical like unicorns, as Mikey would have said. I closed my eyes, drowning myself in the bliss. And then it stopped. I wanted to cry. I lifted my head, opening my eyes, ready to leave and practice a different, much different, song, but I was cut short by someone staring right into my eyes through the window. Crap! I felt my mouth hang open, like a goldfish, as I tried to think of ways to get myself out of listening in like a kind of crazy man, but I just stood there, silent. The face on the other side raised an eyebrow questioningly and slowly opened the door. My heart skipped a beat. And then another one.

Dark brown hair fell over his face, like an arch guiding me into glory, flicking at the end, as if they had been falling, falling, but had suddenly found light. His eyes; bright, sparkling, and brown like his hair, were like pits, sucking me in, trying to take me down, make me crumble. And his face, his cheekbones, his luscious lips curving up into an amused smile. He had a lip piercing, which he was moving inside his mouth with his tongue. I wanted to start panting. I stood there, transfixed, as this angel that stood before me. Realising I was staring; I dropped my gaze, embarrassed. I saw his hands, pale and delicate, yet with the word Halloween imprinted onto his knuckles with his pen. Just doodles, but gorgeous ones.
‘Hey,’ he said, and his voice was musical, ‘My name’s Frankie.’