The Screaming Hope

(Frank Iero,25 years old, so two years later after the crevice)

Tall.
Blue eyes.
Brown hair, thick brows.
Broad shoulders, muscly figure.
Strongs hands and straight posture.
Immaculate shirt and polished suit.
Warm smile, sure looking confident.
Over-developed brain, nerves becoming too prominent.

He sure knows how to get everything.
He sure knows how to dupe the whole world.

His name is Ricken Pierce. The biggest criminal in this same whole world.
That's all you need to know about my partner in crime since two years.
Well, he was.

(Frank Iero, 24 years old)

It's been 380 days. More than one year, after I fell into the famous crevice.
It's funny how I sound like the good old days with Gerard.
Except, it is dramatically different.

I'm not complaining. It's not negative or positive. It's spontaneous, dangerous, sometimes fabulous but ponderous.
It's like I've re-built myself. All my life was previously based on Gerard and my desire to make him mine.
I was sick. Unhealthy. Everything in my mind, my whims, my thoughts, my expectances, everything, everything was dust in the wind and virtualness in the reality.
I'm just glad I wasn't a completely real sicko, savagely insane.
I swear I'm not!
You idiots. If I really was like that, I would have kept Gerard until the end of time.
But I didn't. You know I didn't. Instead, I fell in the crevice in his place. I graze the Death in his place. I had to heal my dysfunctional members in his place.
Wow, there's even a hint of reproach in my words.

I guess that's it. I reproach him not helping me, not even asking if I was still alive after the crevice episode, not calling people who could have taken me out of the hole.

Now that I reconsider the last sentence, it's a good thing Gerard didn't call anyone. They would have found Ricken.
I know, there was this time, I didn't want anyone to find us.

It was like a heavenly Hell.

Notes

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