I'm Not Okay

*Franks POV (about the time Gerard's uncle and dad walked in)*

I stared at the front door intently, I knew who was there and I didn’t want whoever it was to hurt my baby. I watched as Gerard paled and backed into the wall. A man, who I’m assuming is his father, smirked and follows him and pushes himself against Gee’s body. His uncle followed him and talked to him and started to stroke his cheek. I clenched my jaw. No one and I mean no one is allowed to touch my Geebear. I took a step forward about to give those two sons of bitches a piece of my mind when I heard a thump coming from behind me. I blink confused and turned and looked behind me, there was Mikey passed out, face down on the ground with a small trickle of blood seeping out of his hair and onto the carpet. I frowned confused, wondering how he got knocked out.

I heard another thumping sound, this time coming from the left of me. I turned ot my left and saw Pete sprawled out on the ground. Instead on his stomach, he was sprawled on his back and landed at a weird angle, I saw a bruise forming on his face and a small stream of blood going out his nose and pooling in his ear. There was only one person (technically two if you counted me), that were still awake. That was Patrick. I looked around frantically for him. I just wanted someone else to be with me. I chewed on my lip ring and took a step forward. I didn’t get very far; this searing pain was going through my head. I gasped out loud as I was hit again in the back of the head and fell to the ground.

I was barely conscious and watched as the guy who hit me, and most likely Pete and Mikey. Most likely Patrick as well now. I stared up through half closed eyelids. My vision was bleary but I could still make out the long greasy brown hair and the unshaved face.

“’Ey Richie, this kid ‘ere. ‘e ain’t unconscious yet.” He said, I could just faintly see that he had no front teeth. The guy, Richie, responded with something but I couldn’t hear what it was because the next thing I know I’m being kicked in the head and my world faded out into black.

*Gerard’s POV*

I don’t know how long I’ve been in this trunk. Could have been seconds, minutes, hours fuck for all I know it could even have been days. I let out a sigh through the sock and closed my eyes. Even though it just added more darkness to my surroundings, I didn’t really care. I was hoping this trip would take a long time I was dreading what was going to happen to me when we stopped. I was either going to die, or after they were done. Wishing I was dead. I knew the drill; they would beat me for just existing. Probably invite a couple friends over and get drunk as fuck, call me down, and then have his friends pay me to do whatever the hell I wanted to do with me. And if I’m to be honest, that sacred the shit out of me. I had gotten out of that life and here I was getting thrusted back into unwillingly just like before. And I don’t think I could survive this kind of life again. I barely survived the first one. I squeezed my eyes shut and felt a few tears trickle out and slides down my cheek. I tried to stifle a sob, I couldn’t let my dad and uncle know I was crying and show them how weak I actually am. I can’t do that. They’ll just make everything so much worse for me. I held my breath to make myself stop crying, I let it out slowly through my nose. I was calmer already and read to live with whatever kind of hell they were going to put me through.

I felt the car came to a stop and I shuddered this was it. This was where my death would be. I heard a car door slam shut then the crunch of gravel under boots. Late at night I had mastered what someone’s footsteps sounds like no matter how quiet they were walking. Everyone had a distinct footstep fall. No matter how hard you tried to conceal it. I knew this was my dad coming for me. Just by the way one of his feet delayed a step and the slight drag of the gravel. You see my father had a limp from the one time I decided to actually fight back and push him down the stairs. He landed on his leg and shattered it. It never fully healed he still limped. I was jerked away from my thoughts by the sound of the trunk opening and sunlight streaming inside. I could feel the extra heat on the sack over my head. It was almost suffocating me. I felt it being yanked off and immediately shut my eyes as the sun made an unwelcome visit to my eyes. I felt them watered and blink them away. My father yanked me to him and started to walk on the gravel driveway. I looked around to try and figure out where we were. All I saw around us was a dirt path that leads into a gravel path and trees. There were trees everywhere. Trees as far as the eye could see. I turned to see where we were going and it was a tiny farm house. One that looked homey and I wouldn’t mind spending my life there with Frankie. That is IF I get out of this alive.

You can’t have that mindset, I thought to myself. You ARE going to get out and you will be able to see Mikey and frank. Even Pete and Patrick. My inner voice helped calm myself. I looked around more and saw where my father was leading me; he was leading me to a bomb. Right then and there I knew this house had to be old. At least as old was World War II if older. I bit my lip and tried to dig my feet into the ground to stop him from taking me any farther. Who was I thinking that that would have ever worked. He just yanked me along and didn’t even care that my feet were dragging on the ground. I sighed and let him take me to the shelter.

We stopped in front of it and he held onto me with a bruising grip and took out some bolt cutter and cut the chain off. He threw the now broken chain and bolt cutters to the side and yanked me in front of hima dn the opening for the bomb shelter. He pulled out a knife and I tensed.

He noticed. “Oh stop it. I”:m not going to hurt you. I’m just going to do this.” He reached behind me and cut the tape off with his knife. He nicked the palm of my hand which im pretty sure he did that on purpose. He then pushed me down into the bomb shelter. To stop my fall I put both hands out but I landed on my right hand weird and heard a crack and felt something shift in my wrist. I gasped and sat down and stared at my rapidly bruising wrist and held it close to chest. Not even hear for 20 minutes and I already had a broken bone. I watched as the sun went from a big hole to a sliver and then nothing. Once again I was bathed in darkness. I didn’t know what was around me so I just curled up in a ball and held my injured wrist to my wrist and closed my eyes hoping to catch a few moment of sleep.

*The Father’s POV (yeah I know, a new one!)*

I watched as my son clutched his wrist to his chest and shook my head. What I wimp. I shut the doors to the bomb shelter and chained them together and then padlocked them shut. I heard my brother walk up behind me.

“How is he?” He asked. I turned and looked at him.

“Little bitch broke his wrist during the fall. We’re going to have to make sure that doesn’t get infected and heals.” I told my brother, he nodded and walked to the house. I followed him. our parents used to take us here when we were younger, this place had so many memories. I looked past the house and out into the woods and something that resembled a smile graced my lips. But within seconds it was gone and I followed my brother into the house not even looking back at my son who was in the bomb shelter.

Notes

So i only have a few more chapter planned for this story :) im not even sure how many left, all i know that there will be an epilogue. oh, the ending will also not be happy. that's all im saying.

Feedback on this story will be much appreciated :)