Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Roxanna
Frankie. Frankie, whom I beat up last Wednesday. Frankie, who had brown innocent eyes. Frankie, who turned bright red with just one look. Frankie, one of the least popular boys in school. Frankie, the cute one. Frankie, who was standing in front of my house. What a surprise, no one from school had ever stopped by here before.
“Hey, Frankie...?” I almost asked.
“Hi...Roxanna...I just came by because I was visiting Gerard and I knew you lived here...do you want to come outside?”
Was this kid stalking me? That would be kind of freaky, but not surprising. Guys have done the strangest things to get a date with me. I stepped outside into the autumn chill and shut the door behind me. We walked down the sidewalk aimlessly and wordlessly. I watched all the little things that I usually didn’t notice. How our feet made a pleasant sloshing sound as we sank our boots the mud. How an orange leaf fluttered down from its tree, ever so lightly. How the wind blew and rattled the shattered windows in the supposedly “haunted” houses. Oh my goodness, if Helena heard my thoughts now, I bet she’d be proud. Frankie suddenly stopped in his tracks. We had arrived at a large gothic style house.
He went up to the doorbell and rang. I could guess whose house this was. Gerard’s, duh. Well, good, now I could give that freak a piece of my mind and maybe a piece of my fist too. My fingers curled as he opened the door, wearing the last thing I expected from him. A smile.
“Hey Fra—what the fuck are you doing here?” his eyebrows furrowed and his smile vanished as he glared at me.
“I’m standing; do you have a fucking problem?”
“Yes, I do. Go stand somewhere else,” he pushed me.
I almost stumbled, “Don’t touch me,”
“Hm...judging by the way you’re stalking me, I’d think you want me to touch you,”
I shoved him, without a retort.
He fell backwards and hit his head on the door, “Bitch,” he stood up, rubbing his head.
“I know you are but what am I?”
That was a total kindergartener statement, but I didn’t care. I was fucking furious. I didn’t think I’d ever been this angry in all my sixteen years. Nobody in this entire school, in this entire state, even in the entire east coast had ever treated me like this. How could this piece of filth, this freakazoid do this? And I didn’t even fucking know him until today! This is all Frankie’s fault. I shot the bewildered boy a look.
“What the fuck is your problem, Frankie? You know how much I hate this weirdo.”
I spun around and marched back, tracing my previous footsteps imprinted in the mud. What I needed right now was a nice old cigarette. I pulled out the pack that I knew would be in my right pocket. I held one in between my teeth and reached into my other pocket, searching for a lighter. Fuck, it must have fallen out. I took the cigarette out of my mouth and littered it on the ground. I breathed out a puff of white that should have come from a cigarette. It was getting cold. I shivered and stuffed my hands into my pockets. It would be nice not to be single right now. I’d love to have someone’s warm arms around me. As if God had heard my unusual wish, I someone’s hand appeared around my waist. I did a double take when I saw Gerard.
“Frankie’s forcing me to say sorry,” he said simply.
I walked faster to get away from him. He would not stop following me. I was not sure where exactly I was going. This whole neighborhood was a maze. I looked around, not recognizing the old houses. Oh crap, I was lost. A perfect end to a perfect day. I turned around to look at Gerard. He sneered.
“Get me home,” I ordered.
He laughed, “The great Roxanna asks for help from a lowly slave.”
I gritted my teeth, “I have no clue what your fricking problem is and I really don’t care. Just tell me how to get home.”
He looked thoughtful, “Nope.”
There was a silence. It would feel amazing to slap that smirk right off his face. But he was my last hope of reaching home before I’m forty.
“Hey Roxanna, I bet that I could stay inside old man Jenkins’ house longer than you could.”
I raised an eyebrow. He digressed fast.
“Who’s old man Jenkins?” I asked.
“The creepy old man who lives in that house,” he pointed at the mansion across the street.
Ha, that house didn’t even look scary, “Fine. If I win, you take me home.”
“What about if I win?”
“You won’t.”
He took that as a challenge and started sprinting towards the house. I followed. Oh, this was going to be so incredibly easy.
*************
This chapter was sort of a filler...but it was necassary. Reviews would be greatly appreciated.
Love Much,
Coal
“Hey, Frankie...?” I almost asked.
“Hi...Roxanna...I just came by because I was visiting Gerard and I knew you lived here...do you want to come outside?”
Was this kid stalking me? That would be kind of freaky, but not surprising. Guys have done the strangest things to get a date with me. I stepped outside into the autumn chill and shut the door behind me. We walked down the sidewalk aimlessly and wordlessly. I watched all the little things that I usually didn’t notice. How our feet made a pleasant sloshing sound as we sank our boots the mud. How an orange leaf fluttered down from its tree, ever so lightly. How the wind blew and rattled the shattered windows in the supposedly “haunted” houses. Oh my goodness, if Helena heard my thoughts now, I bet she’d be proud. Frankie suddenly stopped in his tracks. We had arrived at a large gothic style house.
He went up to the doorbell and rang. I could guess whose house this was. Gerard’s, duh. Well, good, now I could give that freak a piece of my mind and maybe a piece of my fist too. My fingers curled as he opened the door, wearing the last thing I expected from him. A smile.
“Hey Fra—what the fuck are you doing here?” his eyebrows furrowed and his smile vanished as he glared at me.
“I’m standing; do you have a fucking problem?”
“Yes, I do. Go stand somewhere else,” he pushed me.
I almost stumbled, “Don’t touch me,”
“Hm...judging by the way you’re stalking me, I’d think you want me to touch you,”
I shoved him, without a retort.
He fell backwards and hit his head on the door, “Bitch,” he stood up, rubbing his head.
“I know you are but what am I?”
That was a total kindergartener statement, but I didn’t care. I was fucking furious. I didn’t think I’d ever been this angry in all my sixteen years. Nobody in this entire school, in this entire state, even in the entire east coast had ever treated me like this. How could this piece of filth, this freakazoid do this? And I didn’t even fucking know him until today! This is all Frankie’s fault. I shot the bewildered boy a look.
“What the fuck is your problem, Frankie? You know how much I hate this weirdo.”
I spun around and marched back, tracing my previous footsteps imprinted in the mud. What I needed right now was a nice old cigarette. I pulled out the pack that I knew would be in my right pocket. I held one in between my teeth and reached into my other pocket, searching for a lighter. Fuck, it must have fallen out. I took the cigarette out of my mouth and littered it on the ground. I breathed out a puff of white that should have come from a cigarette. It was getting cold. I shivered and stuffed my hands into my pockets. It would be nice not to be single right now. I’d love to have someone’s warm arms around me. As if God had heard my unusual wish, I someone’s hand appeared around my waist. I did a double take when I saw Gerard.
“Frankie’s forcing me to say sorry,” he said simply.
I walked faster to get away from him. He would not stop following me. I was not sure where exactly I was going. This whole neighborhood was a maze. I looked around, not recognizing the old houses. Oh crap, I was lost. A perfect end to a perfect day. I turned around to look at Gerard. He sneered.
“Get me home,” I ordered.
He laughed, “The great Roxanna asks for help from a lowly slave.”
I gritted my teeth, “I have no clue what your fricking problem is and I really don’t care. Just tell me how to get home.”
He looked thoughtful, “Nope.”
There was a silence. It would feel amazing to slap that smirk right off his face. But he was my last hope of reaching home before I’m forty.
“Hey Roxanna, I bet that I could stay inside old man Jenkins’ house longer than you could.”
I raised an eyebrow. He digressed fast.
“Who’s old man Jenkins?” I asked.
“The creepy old man who lives in that house,” he pointed at the mansion across the street.
Ha, that house didn’t even look scary, “Fine. If I win, you take me home.”
“What about if I win?”
“You won’t.”
He took that as a challenge and started sprinting towards the house. I followed. Oh, this was going to be so incredibly easy.
*************
This chapter was sort of a filler...but it was necassary. Reviews would be greatly appreciated.
Love Much,
Coal
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