A Surprise Party?
Chapter One
"Delivery at the apartment over Fletcher's Jewelry, Iero!" Georgey barks from the back of the kitchen. Great. I wander over to him and take the pizza from him. "And don't take all night, either! We're always busy on Fridays." he reminds me. It's Friday, April 9th, 1972.
I drive the few minutes it takes to get to the downtown main street, and I park in front of Fletchers. I look in the Apartment windows as I walk to the tall side door and I see green and blue streamers. Great, a fucking party. I'll never get out of here. Georgey's gonna be pissed. I ring the door bell,
"Oh God! He's here! Get in here!" A woman pulls me into the cramped apartment and shuts off the lights. Fuck. We all sit in silence until the door swings open and a man in a long Vietnam trench coat flips the lights on. Everyone jumps up,
"Surprise!" They all yell.
He gasps dramatically and lets out a few obviously fake happy-sobs, he's being ridiculous but the rest of the people seem to be eating it up. A few people walk over to hug him, and he looks at everyone in sickly sweet fake love.
"A surprise party!? For me?!" he says overly dramatic and feminine. Then he adds so dark it's scary, "You shouldn't have...." And pulls out a huge gun.
Everyone gasps and a really hot girl in the corner screams.
He struts back to the door, shuts it, and locks it.
"Now, if anyone screams again I'll start shooting." He says condescendingly."And we don't want that...." he adds with a smug smirk.
"What is all this!?!" he yells at the people. He kicks a few presents over with his black combat boots.
"Do you people think I want this?!?" He smashes the cake. Now I'm convinced he's a psycho. He spots me like he can read my mind.
"And fucking pizza?!? You had to drag this poor kid into this!?" He grabs me by my collar and stands me up in front of him. He pulls the gun up to my temple.
"Oh god... please don't dude! C'mon please! I'll just leave man... it's okay! Just put the gun down." I plead. I'm sick to my stomach and about to puke.
"Look what you people did to this poor kid!" Now I can get a good look at the horror of the people. They all stand slack jawed, too afraid to do anything. Too afraid he'll open fire on them instead.
"Fucking PIZZA?" he asks them. He takes the gun from my head but keeps me at his side. He drags me over to the presents.
"Open one." He orders me. I nervously glance down at the card table full of presents. I reach down for one meticulously wrapped with care. I slowly and carefully tear the blue wrapping off. It's a book. Catcher in The Rye.
"Who's it from?" He asks me.
"Um..." I looks at the tag. "C-Cindy." I choke.
"Cindy!" he barks. "Cindy? Where are you?" He points the gun at the people. No one speaks. "Cindy?!" he yells.
"I'm here." a very weak voice offers.
"Well get up here!" he says like a magician would say to a member of a happy crowd. She slowly walks to uslike she's on a mine field. It's the hot girl from the corner. Her blonde hair is styled carefully to match Farrah Fawcett's. She's wearing a tight peach sweater that shows off every curve and her white bellbottoms make her look a mile tall. She obviously put some effort into her appearance tonight.
He grabs her chin and she winces. "Cindy?" He asks.
"Yes?" she whimpers.
"Why did you buy me this book Cindy?" he asks soothingly.
She hesitates "I-I thought you were going through a rough time, and that that book might help you a bit." she answers, ashamed.
"Oh Cindy...." he says softly. "Always so thoughtful! So sweet and caring!" She looks pleased. She must have some kind of crush on this psycho. He tosses her aside like she's nothing.
"Open another one," he glances at my name tag, "Frankie!" I really hate it when people call me that, but I decide it's in my best interest to just keep my mouth shut. I reach down and pick up one carelessly wrapped in newspaper. I tear the paper off to reveal a basketball.
"And who's it from Frankie?"
"Dad." I mumble.
"Tell it to the people Frankie! Not me!"
"Dad." I say louder.
"Daddy, dear Daddy! Won't you come up here?" he stiffly sing songs. An older man with a greying comb-over walks up to his son. He doesn't even look surprised that his own son would do something like this. The man puts his hand on his father's shoulder.
"Why did you get me this, Daddy?" he asks innocently. Silence.
"Daddy?" he pleads. No answer.
He holds the gun and presses it up to his own father's forehead. Some people in the room gasp and whimper, but 'Daddy' still seems indifferent.
"You know I'll do it." the man mutters.
"Seeing as how you're so down lately I thought maybe getting out and playing a game or two might get you going." The father says stiffly, through clenched teeth, still keeping calm and collected. The man with the gun chuckles.
"Ah yes! You all pity me don't you? You all did this to cheer me up!" I lock eyes with a man in the front, he looks like he's about to pounce. He runs to the man and tries to take the gun. He's no match and the man in the trench coat has him on the ground in seconds. He kicks him in the side and a woman whimpers.
"Don't try to play the fucking hero." he spits. "There are no heroes in real life kid." He kicks him again. "Life's gonna punch you in the fucking face." He lets the man crawl away and he turns back to his father.
"You don't really care though, do you? You don't actually want to be here, to cheer me up!"
"Gerard, put the fucking gun down. Now." he commands. As fast as lightning he has the gun in his father's face and his collar in his fist.
"Put it down, huh? What's it gonna take Daddy? How long did you think it'd take for me to snap?" he hisses. Noting in return. "How long did you think it'd take?" he screams in his father's face.
"A year at most." the father spits. Gerard laughs.
"Well! I certainly proved you wrong! But you never had any faith in me anyways." he throws his father to the ground and puts a boot on his stomach.
"Should I kill you right now execution style?" he asks with a condescending smirk. A woman screams and Gerard raises his gun to the ceiling and shoots.
"The next person to open their mouth gets shot." he barks to the people. He turns back to his father,
"I've killed so many other men, whatsone more? I've killed women and children, I've killed husbands and fathers and brothers and sons." he says soothingly. "People who've never done a thing to me, who've never even met me!" This guy must've been in Vietnam. "What's one more man that hates me? That I hate?" he turns his head to me. "Frankie? Do you think I should kill this man, my own father?" Oh God.
"I-I..." I look at his father. He locks eyes with me, he dares me to say yes. I look back at Gerard, I look him in the eyes. Somewhere under his adrenaline high he's begging me to say no. "No." I say.
"And why not Frankie?"
"I-It's wrong to kill." I say. He laughs.
"If you say so Frankie." He takes his foot off his father and lets him get up.
"Oh Daddy, I'm afraid you got lucky this time....Next time there won't be poor Frankie here to save your sorry hide." he laughs again.
"C'mon Frankie, let's get going."
"W-What?"
"You're my hostage, silly."
"Why? Why me? Why do you need me? Please no! I won't tell anyone what happened!" I plead.
"Don't worry Frankie, we're going to have some real fun when we get out of here."
I drive the few minutes it takes to get to the downtown main street, and I park in front of Fletchers. I look in the Apartment windows as I walk to the tall side door and I see green and blue streamers. Great, a fucking party. I'll never get out of here. Georgey's gonna be pissed. I ring the door bell,
"Oh God! He's here! Get in here!" A woman pulls me into the cramped apartment and shuts off the lights. Fuck. We all sit in silence until the door swings open and a man in a long Vietnam trench coat flips the lights on. Everyone jumps up,
"Surprise!" They all yell.
He gasps dramatically and lets out a few obviously fake happy-sobs, he's being ridiculous but the rest of the people seem to be eating it up. A few people walk over to hug him, and he looks at everyone in sickly sweet fake love.
"A surprise party!? For me?!" he says overly dramatic and feminine. Then he adds so dark it's scary, "You shouldn't have...." And pulls out a huge gun.
Everyone gasps and a really hot girl in the corner screams.
He struts back to the door, shuts it, and locks it.
"Now, if anyone screams again I'll start shooting." He says condescendingly."And we don't want that...." he adds with a smug smirk.
"What is all this!?!" he yells at the people. He kicks a few presents over with his black combat boots.
"Do you people think I want this?!?" He smashes the cake. Now I'm convinced he's a psycho. He spots me like he can read my mind.
"And fucking pizza?!? You had to drag this poor kid into this!?" He grabs me by my collar and stands me up in front of him. He pulls the gun up to my temple.
"Oh god... please don't dude! C'mon please! I'll just leave man... it's okay! Just put the gun down." I plead. I'm sick to my stomach and about to puke.
"Look what you people did to this poor kid!" Now I can get a good look at the horror of the people. They all stand slack jawed, too afraid to do anything. Too afraid he'll open fire on them instead.
"Fucking PIZZA?" he asks them. He takes the gun from my head but keeps me at his side. He drags me over to the presents.
"Open one." He orders me. I nervously glance down at the card table full of presents. I reach down for one meticulously wrapped with care. I slowly and carefully tear the blue wrapping off. It's a book. Catcher in The Rye.
"Who's it from?" He asks me.
"Um..." I looks at the tag. "C-Cindy." I choke.
"Cindy!" he barks. "Cindy? Where are you?" He points the gun at the people. No one speaks. "Cindy?!" he yells.
"I'm here." a very weak voice offers.
"Well get up here!" he says like a magician would say to a member of a happy crowd. She slowly walks to uslike she's on a mine field. It's the hot girl from the corner. Her blonde hair is styled carefully to match Farrah Fawcett's. She's wearing a tight peach sweater that shows off every curve and her white bellbottoms make her look a mile tall. She obviously put some effort into her appearance tonight.
He grabs her chin and she winces. "Cindy?" He asks.
"Yes?" she whimpers.
"Why did you buy me this book Cindy?" he asks soothingly.
She hesitates "I-I thought you were going through a rough time, and that that book might help you a bit." she answers, ashamed.
"Oh Cindy...." he says softly. "Always so thoughtful! So sweet and caring!" She looks pleased. She must have some kind of crush on this psycho. He tosses her aside like she's nothing.
"Open another one," he glances at my name tag, "Frankie!" I really hate it when people call me that, but I decide it's in my best interest to just keep my mouth shut. I reach down and pick up one carelessly wrapped in newspaper. I tear the paper off to reveal a basketball.
"And who's it from Frankie?"
"Dad." I mumble.
"Tell it to the people Frankie! Not me!"
"Dad." I say louder.
"Daddy, dear Daddy! Won't you come up here?" he stiffly sing songs. An older man with a greying comb-over walks up to his son. He doesn't even look surprised that his own son would do something like this. The man puts his hand on his father's shoulder.
"Why did you get me this, Daddy?" he asks innocently. Silence.
"Daddy?" he pleads. No answer.
He holds the gun and presses it up to his own father's forehead. Some people in the room gasp and whimper, but 'Daddy' still seems indifferent.
"You know I'll do it." the man mutters.
"Seeing as how you're so down lately I thought maybe getting out and playing a game or two might get you going." The father says stiffly, through clenched teeth, still keeping calm and collected. The man with the gun chuckles.
"Ah yes! You all pity me don't you? You all did this to cheer me up!" I lock eyes with a man in the front, he looks like he's about to pounce. He runs to the man and tries to take the gun. He's no match and the man in the trench coat has him on the ground in seconds. He kicks him in the side and a woman whimpers.
"Don't try to play the fucking hero." he spits. "There are no heroes in real life kid." He kicks him again. "Life's gonna punch you in the fucking face." He lets the man crawl away and he turns back to his father.
"You don't really care though, do you? You don't actually want to be here, to cheer me up!"
"Gerard, put the fucking gun down. Now." he commands. As fast as lightning he has the gun in his father's face and his collar in his fist.
"Put it down, huh? What's it gonna take Daddy? How long did you think it'd take for me to snap?" he hisses. Noting in return. "How long did you think it'd take?" he screams in his father's face.
"A year at most." the father spits. Gerard laughs.
"Well! I certainly proved you wrong! But you never had any faith in me anyways." he throws his father to the ground and puts a boot on his stomach.
"Should I kill you right now execution style?" he asks with a condescending smirk. A woman screams and Gerard raises his gun to the ceiling and shoots.
"The next person to open their mouth gets shot." he barks to the people. He turns back to his father,
"I've killed so many other men, whatsone more? I've killed women and children, I've killed husbands and fathers and brothers and sons." he says soothingly. "People who've never done a thing to me, who've never even met me!" This guy must've been in Vietnam. "What's one more man that hates me? That I hate?" he turns his head to me. "Frankie? Do you think I should kill this man, my own father?" Oh God.
"I-I..." I look at his father. He locks eyes with me, he dares me to say yes. I look back at Gerard, I look him in the eyes. Somewhere under his adrenaline high he's begging me to say no. "No." I say.
"And why not Frankie?"
"I-It's wrong to kill." I say. He laughs.
"If you say so Frankie." He takes his foot off his father and lets him get up.
"Oh Daddy, I'm afraid you got lucky this time....Next time there won't be poor Frankie here to save your sorry hide." he laughs again.
"C'mon Frankie, let's get going."
"W-What?"
"You're my hostage, silly."
"Why? Why me? Why do you need me? Please no! I won't tell anyone what happened!" I plead.
"Don't worry Frankie, we're going to have some real fun when we get out of here."
I stayed up till 4 am reading this and I have absolutely no regrets <3
10/29/15