Famous Last Words

Lyra's POV What I see in front of me right now would be fine, IF I WERE ALONE. But no, right in front of me, my bag has fallen off the chair, and there was a little box on the ground, upside down withe the contents poured out. The contents being many, many blades. Franks shock shows instantly. His wide eyes and mouth closed shut. "So..." Without a word, I kneel down and carefully pick up each small blade. Each key to the door out of my pain, putting them all back in the little box I kept them in. "Let me see your bag." Without a word I hand him the leather backpack, the dark red studs shining a bit as I pass it over. All of my clothes and money are folded neatly in it, along with any other essentials I had packed. But he knows there's more to the contents than just essentials. And he feels in the side pockets, finding my secrets. Knives, razor blades, box cutters, rubber bands, broken shards of glass and tile are inside, laid out neatly. And his voice breaks through the silence, as he sets the bag down. "I won't tell Gerard." he says."He's got enough on his hands with the band, and you." "Thank you." I say, grateful, no doubt. He nods "I can tell these have helped you. Just...don't use it again. Any of them." his voice is stern. I can't exactly say no, and I don't intend on using them again. But I still needed them. I will always need them. "Now, let's put this stuff in a spare room." he gives a small smile and picks up my bag, guiding me into one of the large guest rooms with a large view of the city. I smile. "You know, I haven't heard too much about you. Tell me about yourself." he says, sitting down on the bed, patting the space next to him. I sit down next to him and tell him everything I told Gerard., not stuttering as much, getting a little bit more comfortable on the home. He listens and nods intently, not saying a word in between. Once I finish, he tells me I should get some rest and leaves the room, not saying another word. I wonder why he seems to be acting strange, so after he shuts the door to his room, I quietly go out and listen through his door to see what he does. I hear the creak of him sitting on his bed, and...crying? Frank can't be crying. But I hear it, prominent, but barely. I don't like the sound of someone crying, it makes me all depressed, and stuff. Now I feel bad for him, did I say something wrong? I quietly go back to my room and climb into bed. Sleeping nearly instantly.

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