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Counting Down The Days To Go (Frerard)

They Are Not Like Tremors

I couldn't sleep for those next few nights.

My sheets and my pillows smelled like him. His cheap cologne, his flowery shampoo, everything Frank. Half of the things in my room were his, and I didn't want to look at them. No one knows, other than Lindsey. I don't want to explain to them that Frank tried to kill himself because of me. And according to what the doctors said, he might just have.

What I feared the most became a reality, he fell into a coma.

They don't know when he'll wake up. He was already frail from the beatings, from both his mom and Jack and his friends. They hope in about a month, that's the average. But they just don't know. And that's the most terrifying part of this, the idea that maybe, just maybe, he won't be awake by the time I have my funeral.

But I need to stop thinking about that. It's 3:57 on a Monday morning. I don't particularly want to go to school, but I have to. I sighed and sat up in my bed, staring off into the darkness. The birds were already chirping outside, and after listening to it for 3 hours straight, it's gotten quite annoying. I groaned and forced myself to stand up on my shaky legs. I trudged over to my bathroom and flicked on the light. Fuck, okay, that's too bright for my eyes. I blinked rapidly until they stopped burning, and once they did I turned on the sink to splash some water on my face. I've already visited Frank. He looked peaceful, honestly. I was planning on visiting him afterschool. I'll tell Mikey I was failing a class or something and that I needed tutoring. Mom and dad are on a business trip in New York, so they won't care.

I nearly fell over on the way back to my bed, my eyelids were just so heavy and I practically fell asleep standing up. I pinched myself in hopes it would help and slid back into bed. The LED clock was now flashing 4:08. I could at least get a little bit of sleep before school started, I suppose.

She says she's no good with words, but I'm worse
Barely stuttered out the joke of a romantic stuck to my tongue
Weighed down with words too overdramatic
Tonight, it's "it can't get much worse" versus "no one should ever feel like..."

I groaned and poked at my phone until the alarm turned off. Patrick changed the alarm tone from an incessant beeping to one of the songs his band recorded. "Dance, Dance", I think it's called. I rubbed away the drool running down my chin and blinked until my eyes were used to the sunlight flooding in from my window. Not prepared for this at all. I immediately got dressed and put on my makeup before going downstairs. I found Mikey sitting on the couch, watching...

"Dora the Explorer?" I questioned. "Really?"
He chuckled. "There's nothing good on," he replied, but kept his eyes glued to the TV.
I smiled, and turned around to get food when he talked again. Not to me, though. No, to Dora.
"SWIPER NO SWIPING! SWIPER NO SWIPING! SWIPER NO SWIPING!"
I had to cover my mouth to stop myself from sounding like a seal when I started cackling at him. "Mikey, I-I think you need help," I managed to say between laughs. He turned around and pouted.
"Just because I'm past the age of 6 means I can't enjoy some quality cartoons?" he retorted, only making me laugh harder. I hadn't realized it, but he had gotten up and hugged me, laughing as well. "Man, that's the first time I've heard you laugh this weekend. What's up with that?" he asked me, which immediately made me calm down. I hadn't thought of an excuse for why I was so depressed this whole weekend.
"I, uh... I think I got like a stomach bug or something. I was sick all weekend."
He cocked an eyebrow. "That constitutes locking yourself up in your room, only coming out to leave the house for something?"
I gulped. "Yes. I looked like death, so I didn't want to scar you with that." I forced out a chuckle. "I've been going through cigarettes really quickly as of late, so that's what I leave the house for." He nodded. I think he believed me. "Anyways, you should be getting ready." I pushed him off of me and wandered into the kitchen to get something to eat.