Memories

Four days of isolation was driving me insane. I'd be up at 5am, pacing my bedroom floor. Or I'd sing to myself - some of the lyrics being scarily dark.

"They'll never understand 'cause they were understood.
An open-minded fake in a bright white coat.
Tell me what you wanna know about my bleeding fucking heart.
I'll pass all your tests, 'cause I lie like the best.
They never really listen cause they never fucking cared.
The way I feel inside they could never fucking hear."

My guitar amp broke, which I was pretty upset over, but it made it easier to sing whilst I played without having to strain my voice over the noise. I'm sure my mom appreciated the silence, too. I'm almost 90% sure she sat outside of my room sometimes when I sang. She'd never heard me sing before - I made sure nobody heard me. But as I wasn't going to be seeing anybody anytime soon, that didn't apply here.

On the other hand, what I was doing wasn't really singing. I screamed. I screamed my heart out to my walls as an alternative to crying. Crying was a sign of weakness. I wasn't weak.

But I was hiding. I was pushing everybody away, avoiding everything that seemed mildly wrong, and I was virtually killing myself in the slowest way possible. Isn't suicide supposed to be a weak way out? A way to give up? I didn't want to give up, but right then, it seemed like my only choice. I was starving, I was bored, I needed to pee, and I hadn't talked to anyone in days.

"Frank, honey?" My mom's familliar voice sounded from outside my door, along with a faint knock. I felt a weight being lifted slightly at the sound of her voice, but for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to reply. Not even when she knocked slightly louder, or called my name a few more times. What did shock me into replying, though, was the voice I heard next.

"Here, let me try."

I heard my mom shuffle, and then there was a slightly firmer knock on my door. "Frank?"

"Gerard," I breathed, then gasped. His knocking came to a halt, and I knew he'd heard me. My mom whispered something, and then I heard her footsteps nearing the stairs. Gerard knocked again.

"Can I come in?" He almost whispered. I shook my head a few times, before almost laughing at myself. He couldn't see me.

"No," I answered after a few moments. I heard Gerard sigh, and something slide down my door. I figured he had sat on the floor, his back and head against my door. I moved towards it to do the same, moving the chair for the first time in four days.

"Why not?" Gerard breathed after a few moments. I hesitated before I replied, thinking it through.
"You know why," I muttered quietly. "I can't leave this room."

"Yes you can," he replied almost instantly. "You can get through this. I swear, I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I panicked; I didn't know what to do. I thought if I- if I rang your school, they could...I don't know, make sure nobody found out?" He laughed bitterly. "Yeah, I guess that plan backfired."

I remained silent.

"Frank?"

I thought about it for a few moments. "Okay," I sighed. "Come in."

I heard him stand at once, and I did the same. I braced myself, but he didn't open the door. Reaching out with a shaky hand, I hesitated, before twisting the door handle and opening it slowly. The creaking alerted my mom downstairs, who I heard shuffling closer to the staircase, presumably listening in. I took a deep breath as I came face to face with Gerard. His eyes looked worn and tired, and his clothes looked crinkled. He smiled at me slightly, his nose scrunching and making him look unbelieveably adorable. I almost had to stop myself from aw-ing at him.

Gerard cleared his throat, and I snapped out of my trance to look at him. He had an amused smile on his face, and he tilted his head. "See something good?" He joked, much like he did the first night he came back. "Well, are you gonna help me, or just sit gawking at my ass?" I laughed quietly as I remembered, my cheeks flushing once again, like they do every time.

Gerard sighed. "You look a mess," he told me, then froze. "I mean, you don't look very well," he added, and I laughed a little louder. He visibly relaxed at my reaction.

"Thanks," I muttered sarcastically, punching him gently in the arm. He faked hurt, and then sighed again.

"Hey, listen, Frank-"

"Don't." I cut him off. "I don't care anymore. I don't want to talk about it. You stop apologising, I don't bring it up, deal?"

He nodded quickly, a smile gracing his features. He opened his arms slightly, gesturing for a hug. I obliged, and stepped forward, letting him engulf me in a well-needed embrace.

"Aww." My mom's voice sounded from behind us and Gerard chuckled slightly when I pulled away, blush clear on my cheeks. Still, I walked over to her, and hugged her too. She seemed surprised at first, but hugged back, kissing the top of my head a few times. "Don't ever scare me like that again, Frankie," she warned. I nodded and hugged her tighter.

Gerard sat down on the edge of my bed, even after I protested. I told him to wait until I'd at least changed the tangled blankets for clean ones, but he sat anyway. I tried pulling and pushing him; he wouldn't budge. In the end, I settled for sitting on the floor in front of him, legs crossed and head resting on my hands.

We talked about various things. Comic books being our number one topic. Gerard told me about how he had wanted to be a comic book designer, and he had a whole bunch of comic strips and designs in his suitcase at home. He promised to show me sometime, after a while of begging and guilt-tripping. I smiled triumphantly when he agreed, but frowned slightly when he said the words "condition." I would have to let him include me in one of his comic book ideas. He had this whole theme in his head. I would be called Fun Ghoul, and he would be Party Poison. He even had one for Mikey; Kobra Kid. They were the Killjoys or something like that. I kind of zoned out during the conversation, but was brought back into it when Gerard mentioned going home.

"What?" I asked, and he smiled.

"Frank, it's almost ten thirty."

"What?" I repeated. How was it that time already? When he came round, I was sure it was only at least 5pm.

"It's late, I should be going," he chuckled, and started to stand, but I stopped him. "What are you-"

I cut him off with another hug, and before I pulled away, I may have kissed his head, the way he did before. When I looked at him, he seemed to have a slight pink tint to his cheeks, and I couldn't help but smile. His words came out stuttery and flustered, and he smiled back as he said them. "Well, uh, bye I guess."

"Come back tomorrow?" I said almost immediately, internally cringing at how forward the proposition sounded.

"You're supposed to be studying with Mikey tomorrow," he told me. I smacked my forehead with the palm of my hand.

"Oh, how could I forget?" I muttered. "Wait, how did you know?"

"Well, Mikey wouldn't come round to ask you, because of when you made him leave, but he wanted to know if it was still on." Gerard spoke with a hint of concern in his voice, as if he was worrying that I was going to kick him out.

"Tell him I'm still up for it."

"Can I also tell him you'll be in school tomorrow..?" He added, trailing off at the end. I hesitated.
"Yes." Well, no going back now.

"Good," he smiled, showing his abnormally small baby teeth. "And I swear, if anyone gives you shit-"

"Shh, leave," I giggled. "It's late, you said so yourself."

"Alright," he sighed, still sounding concerned.

I walked Gerard to the front door and my mom watched as we said bye from the kitchen. He hugged me again, and then left. As I turned, my mom was walking towards me, a strange smile on her features.

"You like him," she stated.

"No I don't!" I almost yelled, and she had to try and force her smile away as I stomped up the stairs, ignoring her when she sang; "yes you do," towards me.

Notes

Okay, seriously, you guys are all so lovely. Some of you are offering to talk when I'm having a hard time and you don't even know me. You're so sweet. If you want, add me on my "internet friends" account: https://www.facebook.com/sheriarty.holmes?fref=ts
I promise I'm not some 40 year old virgin paedophile:')