Memories

I stood, staring at the scissors lying on my desk. Millions of thoughts were racing through my mind right then, but only one stood out the most. I could replace them. That thought was the least appealing, but it was the loudest.

I almost didn’t feel like myself. I felt different; like I wasn’t even in my own head. It hurt, but not as much as what I was about to do. Picking up the scissors, I slowly examined them. A few minutes passed before I could fully register what was happening.

I gripped them in my hand and with my other free hand; I began to pull my shirt off. The silence that surrounded me was eerie, and it gave me all the more reason to be startled when there was three quiet knocks on my bedroom door that sounded almost although someone was pounding on it. I stood, staring, mouth agape at the door. My mouth couldn’t form words and my body couldn’t move to open it. I remained silent until I heard the familiar voice of Gerard coming from the other side.

“What are you doing here?” I choked out when he called my name, my words sounding a lot more blunt and careless that I intended them to be.

“I- your mom called,” he admitted, and I ground my teeth together, trying to decide what emotion suited me best right then. There was definitely anger there, but a part of me wanted to be thankful. Yet, I stuck with the anger.

“I don’t want you here,” I told him; freezing when there wasn't a reply. I heard him inhale a deep breath when a few seconds had passed and he mumbled something I couldn't understand.

“Please move the chair,” he asked me, his voice sounding quiet but thick with concern.

“No.” I realized I still had the scissors in my hand, and my heart started to beat a little faster. I forced myself to ignore the strange sensations taking over my body and gripped them tighter.

“Frank,” he sighed. “Please.”

Suddenly, my eyes started to fill, and my body started to shake. My head was pounding, hands sweating and shaking and my stomach started to twist. Oh, great.

I dropped the scissors, racing over to the bin by my bed to hurl up the contents of my stomach into it. Surely it’s not healthy to be puking every other day?

“Frank?” Gerard knocked a few times, sounding frantic. “Frank, is everything okay?”

“Everything is not okay,” I shouted, my voice cracking as the tears rolled down my cheeks.
“Nothing is okay; I’m not okay!” Yelling through the door, I dropped the bin and curled up, knees to my chest as I sat on my wooden floorboards.

There was silence. No noise came from Gerard anymore, or from outside the door, in fact. Maybe he’s gone, I thought to myself, unfolding my legs from under my arms slowly. I glanced around my room, and then jumped. I made a surprised noise when I glanced at my window and saw Gerard standing on the ledge, motioning for me to open the window.

“What-“

Gerard wobbled, as though he was about to fall, causing me to stand instantly and make my way over to the window, opening it. I didn't say anything as I pulled him in, and I watched him silently as he brushed himself off and looked up to face me.

“Frank,” Gerard started, placing a hand on my forehead. “You’re sweating, are you hot?”

I shrugged, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand casually, and Gerard frowned. “No, Frank. Don’t do this again, please.” His hand that remained on my forehead slowly slid to my hair as he pushed it out of my face, causing me to shiver.

“Are you cold?” He questioned me, turning to grab a blanket off my bed and wrap it around me. Slowly, he pulled me into his chest, watching to make sure it was okay. I let him hug me as he walked us back towards my bed, and I wound up being cradled in his arms. Humming soothing words in my ear as the tears fell slowly down my cheeks, his arms wrapped a little tighter around me and I felt safe. It was hard to think about what my mom had said- it was hard to think at all.

I could feel my eyelids pulling themselves down, and I tried to stop a yawn that was forcing its way out, but wound up letting it out. Eventually, the tears stopped flowing and my eyes closed completely, dragging me off into a dreamless sleep.

-

I woke up a few hours later, confused as to how I was in my bed. My mind was fuzzy and confused as I tried to figure out what time it was. I rolled over to face my alarm clock; it was 12:30pm. I groaned and sat up, clutching my aching head and pulling the blankets off me. I made my way unsteadily downstairs, too tired to even notice that my bin was now empty, and the chair that once held my door shut was moved.

“Mom?” I yelled tiredly, stumbling through the hallway and into the kitchen. I was met by two people; Gerard and my mom. My mom was sat at the table, and Gerard was leaning against the counter, just finishing the washing up.

“I swear, you’re a miracle worker, Gerard.” She turned to look at him, a faint smile on her face.
His face flushed red and he nodded slightly, glancing around for a towel to dry his soapy hands with. I grabbed the closest one to m and handed him it. He took it, and our hands skimmed each others slightly, causing my heart to flutter.

"Mom, why is Gerard washing up?" I questioned awkwardly, and she laughed.

"He offered. Don't worry, I'm not slaving him."

“You’re still here?” I asked Gerard, sounding rude. “I mean, it’s late,” I added, trying to sound more welcoming.

“Yeah, it is getting pretty late. I should be going” He glanced at my mom and she shushed him, standing up and straightening out her skirt.

“Now, now, you’re always welcome to stay the night in Frank’s room.” She smiled warmly at him and then shot a look at me out the corner of her eye. I scowled slightly, rolling my eyes.

“I wouldn’t want to be a pest”- he started, but I sighed, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the doorway.

“Shut up, you're staying," I scolded him playfully, smirking at him. "Night, mom,” I called out from behind me, and Gerard said goodnight as I took us up the stairs.

“Uh, I haven’t got any clothes that would fit you I don’t think,” I admitted, and he smiled slightly, the corners of his lips twitching.

“It’s okay; I can sleep in my clothes," he assured me, but I shook my head instantly.

“No, let me see if I have anything. It’s so uncomfortable sleeping in jeans, I should know,” I laughed, and he nodded. I made my way to my wardrobe and opened it, bracing myself for the heap of clothes that was about to tumble out of it.

Gerard laughed as they all fell out and I tried to push them all back in. In the end, I wound up sitting on the floor and digging my way through them to find the over-sized sweat pants my mom had accidentally bought the next size up for me in. When I finally felt the fluffy material, I pulled them out and threw them at Gerard. They hit him in the face and I swear he squealed.

"Thanks," he muttered as I giggled at him. He threw a pillow at me but I caught it, throwing it back.

"Get changed," I told him as I turned to face the other way awkwardly. “Hey, where’s Lindsey, anyway?” I called out as he changed behind me.

“She’s with Mikey and my mom. She said didn’t mind if I came here. In fact; she told me to come.”

I nodded, and turned when he tapped me on the shoulder. “You sure you’re alright with sleeping in your shirt?”

“I’m fine,” he assured me, then turned towards the bed. “So, where am I sleeping?”

“You can stay in here,” I said, a little too matter-of-factly.

“I know that,” he laughed. “But I mean, like, on the floor?”

“No, no, you’re not sleeping on the floor, you sleep in my bed. I’ll sleep on the floor-“

“You’re not sleeping on the floor either, Frank,” he told me, and I smiled slightly.

“It’s my house," I said, folding my arms across my chest to seem defiant.

“Your mom’s house,” he corrected me, and I sighed, letting my arms fall back down to my sides.

“Well,” I thought for a minute. “What about the front room? I have a TV in there.”

“Sure,” he smiled, and I grabbed some blankets and pillows from on my bed, dumping the duvet in Gerard’s arms and we made our way to the front room, letting my mom know what was happening on the way past her. She nodded, kissing me on the forehead and told me she was going to bed.

I told Gerard to throw the duvet on the floor in front of the TV, and I set up the pillows to lean against the sofa behind us. The blankets were in a tangled mess around us as we sat in the middle of the floor, our backs against the front of the sofa and our eyes glued to the TV screen. I didn’t pay attention to what film I put on- which turned out to be a horror film.

In all honesty, I wasn’t paying any attention to it. I had too much on my mind, too much going on, and Gerard was sat right next to me, his shoulder just brushing mine. If that’s not a distraction, I don’t know what is. He yawned every now and again, and I couldn’t blame him. It was one thirty in the morning by then, and I had school in six hours.

Eventually, I started drifting off, my eyes opening and closing every few minutes and my head started to droop. I felt the side of my face hit something soft and I assumed it was a pillow, or the sofa. I made myself comfy, before realizing it was Gerard’s shoulder. He shifted, and I lifted my head up quickly, glancing at him. I realized he had his arm outstretched, and gave him a questioning look before he motioned with his hand for me to lean in.

After a few seconds of inward hyperventilating and contemplating, I obliged and rested my head back down. His arm wrapped around my shoulders and his hand rubbed soothing patterns on my arm and eventually I fell asleep.

Notes