I let the spider wander around the messy floor and eventually hide under one of my Misfits shirts because it was no longer my biggest concern. The person or "thing" in front of me was. He was definitely human, or at least had been human. A very short human, no taller than five feet. He had large, tender, glowing eyes, a small nose with a rounded tip, and thin, pinkish lips that tied his complexion together. He had a bit of a belly, but it was barely noticeable since his well-toned arms took most of my attention. Definitely a musician's arms. His legs, feet and hands were proportional to the rest of his body and after examining him closely for a few minutes, I found him kind of attractive. He looked real but at the same time he didn't, and that frightened me to the point where I could not move, even though I begged my legs to rush out the door and find Mikey.

"Who are you?" I whispered. Surprisingly, my voice didn't stutter as I thought it would. My hands were moist with sweat, and I could feel the adrenaline rushing through my body. He blinked a few times, looking terrified as well.

"You can see me?" he asked. My mouth went dry at that question.

"Am I not supposed to see you?" I murmured. My knees trembled and I gulped as the thought of Elena having something to do with this clouded my mind.

Elena was my grandmother, who had taken care of Mikey and I ever since our parents started working, back when I was eight or nine years old. She had raised the both of us on her own, and had tried to teach us to make morally correct choices. She had obviously failed with me though, since I had snorted my first line of cocaine during my senior year in high school. After that, everything between us tensed up. She had made it very clear that I was no longer trusted, and that I had failed her as a grandson. I became the black sheep of the family after that. A few months after my little fuck-up, she passed away. And ever since then, Elena has been haunting me. She's haunted my dreams, my thoughts, eating away at my conscience piece by piece. And now, she was fucking with my sanity.

"No one has ever seen me before" he replied, snapping me back to reality.

"Did Elena send you?" I asked, unable to control the loudness of my voice.

"Who?" he squeaked, his eyes widening at the tone of my voice.

"Elena. Did she send you?"

The rush of adrenaline was gone now. Instead, fury and anger raced through my body.

"I-I don't know who she is" the guy replied. His eyes were filled with fright, as if he thought I would hurt him. I relaxed a little, knowing that he was scared of me and I had some control over the situation.

"Are you sure? Are you a hallucination? Am I hallucinating? No, no. You're not real. You're not real."

I needed to remind myself that he wasn't real. I couldn't lose my sanity. That would only ensure my stay long, long stay in Bantam, and that was a fight I hadn't given up yet. My knees went weak, and I collapsed on my bed with my eyes shut tight, rolling around a few times to try and recover whatever connection I had lost with reality. I needed to restore my sanity soon, or at least hide it well enough so that Mikey wouldn't worry over my mental state.

"I am Gerard Arthur Way" I said out loud, in an attempt to separate what I knew to be entirely true from what I wasn't completely sure about. "I was born on April 9th, 1977 in Belleville, New Jersey. I have one younger brother named Michael James Way. He was born on September 2nd, 1980."

My eyes remained shut as I rushed through a few more quick facts. I didn't stop shouting out information until my throat felt sore. When I was ready to reopen my eyes, I covered my face with both of my hands and peeked through the spaces between my fingers. I looked around the room a few times, and didn't see the man anywhere. I sighed in relief, hoping I would never have to go through that again. But before I knew it, the same guy popped up right in front of me, his face centimeters away from mine.

"Hey" he whispered. I screamed and briskly backed away from my bed, tripping over an empty canvas in front of the door and falling with a loud thump in the process.

"Gerard! Is everything okay up there?" I heard Ray ask from downstairs.

"Y-Yeah. Everything's alright! Just dropped something!" I answered back.

"I'm Frank. Frank Iero" the guy said, with a lopsided smile plastered on his face. At that exact moment, I could picture what I looked like: sprawled out on the floor, eyes wide with fear, mouth hanging open and lips twitching like crazy, staring up at an almost-invisible-but-not-quite man. What the fuck was going on?

"Please, go away. Tell Elena that I'm sorry. I really am. I regret everything I've done and I don't need her to remind me how big of a fuck up I am. I can do that all by myself. Please. Just leave" I whispered hastily, knowing Toro was questioning wether or not to come up and check on me.

"Listen, I don't know who Elena is" Frank replied, his expression unreadable. "I'm Frank. Frank Iero. My parents were the original owners of this house. They passed away years ago. And so did I."

The last sentence took my breath away. I felt my chest tighten and the oxygen escape from my lungs.

"You-u're de-dead?" I asked, begging myself to not pass out right then.

"Yeah" Frank answered softly, the pain hidden behind his eyes visible.

I heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and in a flash I stood up and walked to opposite side of the room, away from the door. Mikey swung the door open and walked in, Ray right behind him. They both looked around the room as if they thought I was hiding someone here. When they found nothing, they turned to me. I glanced at Frank, who was now sitting on my bed staring off into space.

"Who were you talking to?" Mikey asked, demanding an answer while crossing his arms. I looked back and forth between him and Frank, hoping he would get the hint to look that way. He caught on, and for a second I thought he saw him too, but then I noticed he wasn't looking directly at Frank. He was looking at the window behind him.

"Is there someone outside? Why do you keep looking out the window?" Mikey asked. He walked over to the window and looked outside, completely ignoring Frank, who now seemed to be enjoying the attention and exasperated looks I was giving him.

"I was looking at my bed" I said, slower this time emphasizing every word, hoping that he would magically notice Frank. Instead, he gave me an odd look and rummaged through the shirts on my bed.

"Why are you acting so weird, Gerard? Is everything okay?" Ray asked. I winced at the sound of his voice; I had completely forgotten he was in the room with us.

"Yeah. I'm okay. Trust me" I mumbled. I could tell that they were questioning my mental state, based on the way the looked at me. Mikey let go of my shirts and stepped away from my bed.

"Alright. If you need anything, we'll be downstairs." They turned around, already making their way out of my room.

"Wait" I shouted, a little too loudly.

"Yes?"

"What do you guys know about the previous owners of this house?" Frank's head shot up at my question.

Ray and Mikey glanced at each other, neither of them willing to speak. A few seconds later, Mikey responded.

"It was a family. Three people. Mom, dad and son. The Iero's."

My heart stopped when he mentioned that name.

"What happened to them?" I asked.

"I-We don't know" Ray quickly replied. "Mr. Davis didn't tell us."

"Okay. I just wanted to know" I said, giving them a slight smile. "You guys can go now."

Mikey and Ray rushed out the door in case I had any other questions they weren't willing to answer.

"They're lying" Frank mumbled, clearly annoyed that Mikey and Ray hadn't told me the full story. "They know what happened to me. But they don't want to freak you out."

I looked at Frank, who looked right back at me.

"You're dead. You really are, aren't you? Oh my God, I'm talking to a dead person. Oh God, I'm talking to a ghost" I whispered in panic.

"Don't worry, at least I'm not Satan or anything" he responded, in an attempt to make me feel better. "But don't take advantage of me, or assume I'm nice. I'm not Casper the goddamn friendly ghost, either."

I laughed nervously. His eyes lightened up.

"Well Frank, I think we'll get along well. I have no reason to fear you" I stated anxiously, looking at him for reassurance. He gave a small nod. "And so far, we have something in common. We both dislike how people keep things from others."

I thought back to how Mikey and Ray did not tell me the Iero's were dead. I hated when people kept things from me.

"We both hate spiders, too" Frank added, pointing at the same Black Widow who had started this mess in the first place. It had somehow gotten on top of my bed and was scrambling through my snowy-white sheets, which made it stand out. I didn't hesitate to slam my hand on top of it, hard. I felt it's body crush under the weight of my hand, leaving a dark red/brownish stain on the sheets. I stared at it in disgust.

"I think I should go wash my hands" I said. Frank agreed.

"I'll take this to the laundry room too" I added, taking the sheets off of the mattress and dragging them behind me to the laundry room.

The last thing I saw was Frank leaning against the doorway, a cute grin glued to his face.

Notes

Not sure how I feel about this chapter. I was kinda rushing through it, so I might edit it later. I don't really have much to say. Oh, but here's an irrelevant comment: Is anyone else excited about Mibba's Walking Dead fanfic site? I love it already.
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