-Gerard POV-
I sat in my bedroom, blaring music as loud as it was capable of going. I was the only one home; Mikey was out with his boyfriend. And, yes, I meant to say boyfriend. For about the past year, Mikey has been dating Ray Toro, who, before then, was his best friend. And even now, they're best friends. I doubt that there is anything that could ever tear them apart.

I wish that Frank and I could be like that, but he's straight, and dating a girl, for that matter. So he could never love me. Even if he was gay, he would still never love a fuckup like me. I mean, after all, I was addicted to drugs, and to alcohol. And to something even worse. Cutting. All across my arms, scars and cuts could be seen. Who would want to be with someone with scars? Someone as mentally fucked as me?

No one.

And that's why I'm sitting in my dark room, an empty bottle in one hand, and a razor in the other. I had finally decided to end it. To end all of the pain of never being able to be with the one I love. I've been thinking about this for a long time now, but I could never quite find the right way to end it. But I didn't care how it ended anymore. It just needed to end. And if dying was how it would end, then that is what I would do. I would kill myself. Anything to get rid of this pain.

I sighed, though it was drowned out by the music flooding through my room. I let the bottle in my hand drop to the ground, which caused it to shatter. That didn't matter to me though. Nothing mattered to me anymore. Nothing except for my brother and Frank. And I knew that my brother would be better off without me. And he had Ray. And I also knew that Frank wouldn't care that I was dead. Nobody would care if I was dead.

And with that thought, I looked at the razor, which glistened in the small amount of light in my room, which came from the window. I pressed the blade to my wrist, and slowly dragged it along it, and then did the same exact thing to the other. I didn't feel any pain while doing this, only relief. Just like I did every other time I did this. Only, every other time, I would live to feel sadness again. This time, I wouldn't.

I let the razor fall out of my hand and onto the floor, covered in blood. My blood. And soon, the floor would be covered in my blood as well, and then, I would be gone. I longed for that moment. It just couldn't seem to come fast enough.

I fell to the floor, getting weaker every second. I was dying. I had accepted this. I was dying, and I would probably be going straight to hell. But that didn't make any difference.

Black dots started to blur my vision. Just before I fully lost consciousness, I heard my bedroom door open. And then, I heard a voice. A very familiar voice.... Frank.......