Precious Metals

"FUCK YOU! I HATE YOU!" I yelled, wrenching myself away from Gerard. I hated him. I hated him. His hands desperately clung to the fraying edge of my skeleton glove, caught between his fingers.

I froze, silently boiling over. "Frankie... Please..I'm serious. H-He's..He isn't right in the head. Please...Just listen!" He pleaded.

I sharply pulled out of his grasp, leaving the glove in his fumbling hands. My heart cringed painfully in my chest as I walked away. "No...He's not...M-Maybe...Maybe they were right about you..You're the one that's fucking sick..." My heart sunk further into itself. My dad wasn't crazy. Gee was. I mean, what kind of senior wants to hang out with a freshman. What kind of freak had a sketchpad full of portraits of one person. It isn't 'sweet' or 'romantic'. It's fucking obsessive.

My house came into view. It felt like only a few minutes I was walking, when in reality it had taken a whole hour to get across town.

The old boards groaned beneath my sneakers as I climbed onto the porch. I twisted the door knob. Its unlocked? It swung open in the wind, slamming harshly against the wall. It was silent. Completely silent, except for the draft that made its way through the old house.

I felt anxious, a sense of panic coating my nerves. "H-Hello? M-Mom....Dad?" Their cars are in the driveway...They have to be here. The sound of metal clattering broke the silence. I pushed forward to through to the living room. It sounded like it was coming from the kitchen. Fear cemented my feet to the floorboards. Come one, come on. Get a grip! You don't seriously think Gerard's right, do you? Or are you crazy like him. I shook loose my anxiety. No, it's nothing. Everything is fine. It's probably just Mom cooking dinner. I peered around the corner, first only poking my head into the room. I slowly crept across the room. I could see something behind the table.

"Mom? What are you-" I felt myself crumple onto the floor in front of her lifeless body, her eyes staring in fear up at me. .....No..... "N-No...No!" I was sobbing, shaking and crying. Oh God, he was right....

"Damn, I reeeeaaally hoped this would've played out differently, Frankie." I blanched, rigid. I turned to face him. My mother's killer..my father...

He held a blood stained knife in one hand, smirking down at me with a murderous grin. My jaw hung.... He was right...oh g-god....he was right....about everything.....

He paced over to me, almost pondering what to do with me. I finally met his eyes...They were covered in a black sheen, vacant of any compassion and drinking in my distress. This is it....

"Frankie!!!"

I jolted awake, panting as I sat up in bed. Fuck. It's just a dream.....Just a dream...I'm safe now, I'm safe. My heart slowly returned to a calm, rhythmic pattern. It was still dark. I lay back into my stiff cot, locking my hands behind my head, relaxing. The world had become a quieter place....Without all of the people and bustling cities...

I close my eyes again with a heavy sigh, my chest tightening. "I wish you were here, Gee... You'd know what to do..." Tears forced their way past long lashes, sliding off my face with ease...

Notes

Hey everyone! Are you wondering what happened to Gerard yet? Yeah, so am I. Poor Frankie....I know, I made him cry in the first chapter, but I just had to.


Comments anyone???

-Ghost