Nobodies
Chapter 1
“Hey, faggot,” Frank greets.
I rush down the hall, running into kids as I scurry to get away from him.
“Where are you going?” Frank demands. He’s small, but he can still shove through a hoard of kids. It’s this fucking authoritarian figure he’s got going on; all of the kids are afraid of him, and I think that even some of the teachers are.
So, since I’m Gerard Way, prime loser of the school with 0 friends and not counting, and also the guy that Frank Iero, school tyrant, happens to be after, everyone goes out of their way to either stand in front of me or bump into me, one boy even shoving me back towards Frank.
I duck into a bathroom, praying that maybe a teacher or someone is in there that will get Frank to leave me alone. Alas, it is empty. I head for the door, when it swings open, Frank looking innocent. He does a quick scan of the room, and once he realizes it’s empty, a giant, evil grin spreads across that face of his.
“Tsk tsk, Gerard,” he sighs. He chuckles his high, girly laugh, “Of all the places to hide in a school: libraries, teacher’s rooms, fucking cafeterias….” Frank smiles. “You picked a bathroom.”
I back up, and Frank advances on me, slowly walking towards me. I bump into a urinal, and Frank shoves me into it, flushing it so my ass gets all wet. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m willing to bet that you’re just aching for a beating.”
I glance over at the clock, which reads 8:28. The bell rings in two minutes. If I could just find a way to stall…
I run for the door, but Frank catches me around the middle, body slamming me onto the tile floor. He kicks me in the ribs, and then kneels next to me, holding my head in place by the hair as he delivers a series of punches to my nose and jaw.
“Are you crying, Way?” Frank chuckles.
Shit, when did I start crying? I wipe my eyes, but the tears just fall faster, and my body begins to tremble.
“You’re such a cry baby, you girl,” Frank scoffs. “I touch you, and you burst out bawling.” He laughs some more as I try to stop crying, holding it in for a few seconds, just so I sob twice as loud when I can’t hold it in any longer. “You can stop crying now, dyke. It’s getting pathetic; even I’m not enjoying this anymore.”
I continue to weep, unable to control myself. Frank strips my bag off of my shoulders, dumping it into a nearby toilet. His giggling comes from the stall over, and he chortles,
“I’m trying to flush your Algebra II book, but it just won’t go!”
He throws my bag on top of me as the bell rings, dismissing, “Well, I’ve got to go. Real fun hanging out with you, dyke.”
I sniffle as I head over to the toilet, screwing my eyes shut as I dig out all of the supplies that can be spared. Certain things, such as my pencils and pens, can simply not be salvaged; as they have been either flushed down the toilet or are way down at the bottom, where I’m not willing to reach. I wrap everything in a huge wad of paper towels, stuffing it all into my bag. I hurry as fast as I can, but I’m still late for TAG.
My teacher, Ms. Shelby, she really gets me. I come in late, but she doesn’t mention it or even glance my way. I’m not sure if she pities me or just feels for me, but either way, I’m pretty positive that I could get away with murder as long as she was the judge. I suppose I am quite pitiful, greasy black hair in tangles, skinny frame, and bags under my eyes. Not only that, but I believe that today, when I walked in the room my eyes were still red from crying. If I wasn’t required to wear uniforms, I’m sure that my apparel would be pathetic as well, seeing as on the weekends I wear nothing but holy jeans exposing my bony legs and ratty t shirts. After her usual announcements, she sends us over to the computers for our online classes. I’m in the middle of my Sociology class when she kneels next to me, placing one of her hands on my shoulder.
“Gerard, are you okay?” she whispers, so the other students won’t hear.
I nod, biting my lip. Just her asking that makes me want to sob some more, and I feel guilty for lying to such a nice teacher, who isn’t asking me this because she’s required to- but because she’s genuinely concerned for my well-being.
“Are you sure?” she questions. She places a hand on my forearm, assuring, “You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”
I look over at her, forcing a smile. “I’m okay, Ms. Shelby. Thanks for looking out for me, though.”
She nods, but frowns, almost as if she can tell that she’s not getting the truth. She pats me on the shoulder as she walks past, going across the room to help a kid with their hand up.
I’m walking home from school, like I do every day. I don’t have a school permit, or even a learner’s permit as a fifteen teen year old sophomore, the reason why being that I doubted that I’d ever need it, seeing as I didn’t think I’d live past seventeen. I thought I would’ve offed myself by then, and if not, at least wound up in the hospital for some reason or another, whether it being drugs, cutting, or an attempt.
I see a pickup pull up a few feet behind me. I try to walk faster, but fucking Frank steps out of it. He runs up, grabbing me by the bag and spitting,
“Hey, dyke! Fancy seeing you here!”
“I walk this way every day,” I growl.
Frank picks me up by my bag. For being sixteen and 5’6”, he’s really fucking strong. “Well, wrestling practice is cancelled, so I’m lucky enough to be your acquaintance this afternoon.”
“Please leave me alone!” I beg.
Frank drops me, still clutching onto my backpack. “What was that? Can you repeat it for me?”
“I’m really not in the fucking mood right now, okay?” I snap.
“Whoa, cat’s got claws!” Frank exclaims. “Gerard, I love this bitchy new side of you. Surely, breast implants will be the next step in your transformation to mega bitch. Because honey, these,” Frank reaches around me, twisting my nipples through my shirt. “These just won’t cut it.”
“Ow!” I yelp, squirming free. “Quit it!”
Frank grins, shoving me. “Quit what?” He shoves me again, telling, “You’ve got to be specific!”
“Stop fucking with me!” I bark.
“Aw, look at you, trying to be tough,” Frank teases. “If I were gay like you, I’d think it’s adorable.”
“I’m… I’m not trying to be tough!” I retort.
“Oh, yeah,” Frank mocks. “You are tough.” He shoves me again, sending me back onto my ass. I begin to scoot away from him, but he presses his heel against my crotch, warning, “One wrong word, and I’m castrating your two inch dick.”
“Actually, castration occurs in the testicles,” I correct. “It’s when they’re taken out.”
Why am I such a fucking idiot? Goodbye dick, Frank surely stomped the Hell out of it. I obviously tear up, because hello, my cock got fucking terminated! But Frank, being the asshole he is, laughs again.
“Wow Gerard, two times you’ve cried in one day. Are you on your period?”
I have enough strength in me to shake my head. I curl into a fetal position, clutching my manhood as if my life depended on it. Frank places one of his size 5 Converses on my side, pulling out his phone.
“Smile, Gerard! This one’s going to my buddies.”
I muster up the courage to flip off the camera. My valor is rewarded with a swift kick to the hip, and I yelp out as pure bone is met with solid shin.
“Bye dyke, have a good weekend!” he chuckles, leaving. He drives by, and I lay on the ground, watching his tail lights burn out in the distance.
I rush down the hall, running into kids as I scurry to get away from him.
“Where are you going?” Frank demands. He’s small, but he can still shove through a hoard of kids. It’s this fucking authoritarian figure he’s got going on; all of the kids are afraid of him, and I think that even some of the teachers are.
So, since I’m Gerard Way, prime loser of the school with 0 friends and not counting, and also the guy that Frank Iero, school tyrant, happens to be after, everyone goes out of their way to either stand in front of me or bump into me, one boy even shoving me back towards Frank.
I duck into a bathroom, praying that maybe a teacher or someone is in there that will get Frank to leave me alone. Alas, it is empty. I head for the door, when it swings open, Frank looking innocent. He does a quick scan of the room, and once he realizes it’s empty, a giant, evil grin spreads across that face of his.
“Tsk tsk, Gerard,” he sighs. He chuckles his high, girly laugh, “Of all the places to hide in a school: libraries, teacher’s rooms, fucking cafeterias….” Frank smiles. “You picked a bathroom.”
I back up, and Frank advances on me, slowly walking towards me. I bump into a urinal, and Frank shoves me into it, flushing it so my ass gets all wet. “Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m willing to bet that you’re just aching for a beating.”
I glance over at the clock, which reads 8:28. The bell rings in two minutes. If I could just find a way to stall…
I run for the door, but Frank catches me around the middle, body slamming me onto the tile floor. He kicks me in the ribs, and then kneels next to me, holding my head in place by the hair as he delivers a series of punches to my nose and jaw.
“Are you crying, Way?” Frank chuckles.
Shit, when did I start crying? I wipe my eyes, but the tears just fall faster, and my body begins to tremble.
“You’re such a cry baby, you girl,” Frank scoffs. “I touch you, and you burst out bawling.” He laughs some more as I try to stop crying, holding it in for a few seconds, just so I sob twice as loud when I can’t hold it in any longer. “You can stop crying now, dyke. It’s getting pathetic; even I’m not enjoying this anymore.”
I continue to weep, unable to control myself. Frank strips my bag off of my shoulders, dumping it into a nearby toilet. His giggling comes from the stall over, and he chortles,
“I’m trying to flush your Algebra II book, but it just won’t go!”
He throws my bag on top of me as the bell rings, dismissing, “Well, I’ve got to go. Real fun hanging out with you, dyke.”
I sniffle as I head over to the toilet, screwing my eyes shut as I dig out all of the supplies that can be spared. Certain things, such as my pencils and pens, can simply not be salvaged; as they have been either flushed down the toilet or are way down at the bottom, where I’m not willing to reach. I wrap everything in a huge wad of paper towels, stuffing it all into my bag. I hurry as fast as I can, but I’m still late for TAG.
My teacher, Ms. Shelby, she really gets me. I come in late, but she doesn’t mention it or even glance my way. I’m not sure if she pities me or just feels for me, but either way, I’m pretty positive that I could get away with murder as long as she was the judge. I suppose I am quite pitiful, greasy black hair in tangles, skinny frame, and bags under my eyes. Not only that, but I believe that today, when I walked in the room my eyes were still red from crying. If I wasn’t required to wear uniforms, I’m sure that my apparel would be pathetic as well, seeing as on the weekends I wear nothing but holy jeans exposing my bony legs and ratty t shirts. After her usual announcements, she sends us over to the computers for our online classes. I’m in the middle of my Sociology class when she kneels next to me, placing one of her hands on my shoulder.
“Gerard, are you okay?” she whispers, so the other students won’t hear.
I nod, biting my lip. Just her asking that makes me want to sob some more, and I feel guilty for lying to such a nice teacher, who isn’t asking me this because she’s required to- but because she’s genuinely concerned for my well-being.
“Are you sure?” she questions. She places a hand on my forearm, assuring, “You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”
I look over at her, forcing a smile. “I’m okay, Ms. Shelby. Thanks for looking out for me, though.”
She nods, but frowns, almost as if she can tell that she’s not getting the truth. She pats me on the shoulder as she walks past, going across the room to help a kid with their hand up.
I’m walking home from school, like I do every day. I don’t have a school permit, or even a learner’s permit as a fifteen teen year old sophomore, the reason why being that I doubted that I’d ever need it, seeing as I didn’t think I’d live past seventeen. I thought I would’ve offed myself by then, and if not, at least wound up in the hospital for some reason or another, whether it being drugs, cutting, or an attempt.
I see a pickup pull up a few feet behind me. I try to walk faster, but fucking Frank steps out of it. He runs up, grabbing me by the bag and spitting,
“Hey, dyke! Fancy seeing you here!”
“I walk this way every day,” I growl.
Frank picks me up by my bag. For being sixteen and 5’6”, he’s really fucking strong. “Well, wrestling practice is cancelled, so I’m lucky enough to be your acquaintance this afternoon.”
“Please leave me alone!” I beg.
Frank drops me, still clutching onto my backpack. “What was that? Can you repeat it for me?”
“I’m really not in the fucking mood right now, okay?” I snap.
“Whoa, cat’s got claws!” Frank exclaims. “Gerard, I love this bitchy new side of you. Surely, breast implants will be the next step in your transformation to mega bitch. Because honey, these,” Frank reaches around me, twisting my nipples through my shirt. “These just won’t cut it.”
“Ow!” I yelp, squirming free. “Quit it!”
Frank grins, shoving me. “Quit what?” He shoves me again, telling, “You’ve got to be specific!”
“Stop fucking with me!” I bark.
“Aw, look at you, trying to be tough,” Frank teases. “If I were gay like you, I’d think it’s adorable.”
“I’m… I’m not trying to be tough!” I retort.
“Oh, yeah,” Frank mocks. “You are tough.” He shoves me again, sending me back onto my ass. I begin to scoot away from him, but he presses his heel against my crotch, warning, “One wrong word, and I’m castrating your two inch dick.”
“Actually, castration occurs in the testicles,” I correct. “It’s when they’re taken out.”
Why am I such a fucking idiot? Goodbye dick, Frank surely stomped the Hell out of it. I obviously tear up, because hello, my cock got fucking terminated! But Frank, being the asshole he is, laughs again.
“Wow Gerard, two times you’ve cried in one day. Are you on your period?”
I have enough strength in me to shake my head. I curl into a fetal position, clutching my manhood as if my life depended on it. Frank places one of his size 5 Converses on my side, pulling out his phone.
“Smile, Gerard! This one’s going to my buddies.”
I muster up the courage to flip off the camera. My valor is rewarded with a swift kick to the hip, and I yelp out as pure bone is met with solid shin.
“Bye dyke, have a good weekend!” he chuckles, leaving. He drives by, and I lay on the ground, watching his tail lights burn out in the distance.
Notes
Thanks so much for reading! New chapter should be up soon, but I'm writing lots of fics right now! Read some of them if you haven't!Prompts can be sent here anonymous or not- www.frerard-is-the-weapon.tumblr.com
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@Ferard_lover_13
I sure did, and I love that song too!
6/23/14