Alarm clocks are possibly the worst invention in the history of the universe, I conclude, as the incessant screeching of mine rouses me from a deep sleep. Groaning, I roll over and hit the thing, welcoming the silence.

"Frank, get your ass out of bed! It's time for school, you're gonna be late!" I hear my mom call from downstairs. Mumbling nonsense about early mornings, I crawl from under the covers, and into the cold air. I pull on some ripped skinny jeans I find lying on the floor, and a Misfits t-shirt.
After going downstairs, scarfing some breakfast, brushing my teeth, and applying some thin red eyeliner, I'm out the door. Belleville High-school is about a twenty minute walk from my house, so I begin the journey there.

As you may have guessed, I am Frank. Frank Iero. Fifteen years of age, and the resident 'fag' of Belleville High. Every day since the start of freshman year, I've been bullied, beaten, and called every name under the sun.

I hate to admit it, but that's really the only way I identify myself. No one has ever supported me, in anything, except my friend Mikey. Ever since my dad left when I was younger, my mom has become distant and abusive, relying on alcohol to forget about her problems. Namely, me.

"Hey fag!" I hear a familiar voice call from behind me. I groan inwardly, and pretend that I didn't hear him. Him being Gerard Way, the bane of my existence. I'm much braver in my head, as you can probably tell.
"Hey, don't ignore me, midget!" He said, in what sounded with delight. The sick fuck. I hunched my small frame of 5.4" over even more, and walked on.

Big mistake.
Soon enough, I was sprawled on the sidewalk, blood running from several places over my body, and the contents of my school bag upended around me. I got up onto my elbows, gasping in pain. My shoulder hurt like hell, and I could feel bruises coming on. I packed my books away into my bag, and got up, to continue the walk to school.

"Hey Frank!" I heard a voice.
"Go away! You've already beaten the shit outta me, why the fuck are you back?" I shouted, whirling around. But, instead of Gerard, I found a startled Mikey, looking taken aback.
"Shit, sorry Mikes! I thought you were someone else," I say apologetically.
"Are you okay, Frank? You've got blood on your shirt," Mikey walks toward me, frowning.
"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just one of the dicks from school gave me trouble." I turn, and began to walk again, when Mikey gasps.
"Holy flying unicorns, Frank! Head wound alert!" Mikey rushes forward, and lifts a hand, wiping the side of my head. When he pulls his hand away, it's covered in blood.
"Crap," I mumble. "It's okay, I'll clean it up in the school bathroom." I wave dismissively, and continue to walk. Mikey's brows furrow.
"You sure? It looks pretty bad." I convince him that it's nothing, and we walk the rest of the way in silence