My Suicidal Romance

*Author's POV*

Frank went downstairs and into the kitchen. His sister, Freya was reading a book by the fire. He went over to the large, dark wood bookshelves; to look for a map of the village and surrounding area.

He found it and sat down, opening the old, dusty and yellowed pages. It opened on the dark woods, on the other side of the way manor. Whoa, he thought. It was so strangely alluring.

Once Frank had very closely studied the pages and the fields and woodland surrounding the mansion, he started taking more interest into what Freya was doing.

Freya was a pretty girl, 17 years of age. She had large green eyes, long blonde hair, a perfect nose, cute smile and very dark, bushy - yet still feminine, eyebrows. And the longest, thickest, black as black lashes.
She was heavily engrossed in a large book - although - her hands looked as they were doing other things. Frank walked to the other side of the room so he could take a sneaky look at what she was doing. Once he saw - he was surprised. He and his family knew that his sister was an artist. She would spend most of her days locked away, on her own accord, in her room with her two friends: Isabel and Lilah. Painting. Although she would never show anyone - so Frank didn't know how amazing she was. The three girls were possibly the most beautiful young ladies in the town.

Isabel had long, chocolate brown hair, gorgeous strong eyebrows - like Freya. And the most perfect looking, classically beautiful face.
Lilah had super long, thick blonde hair and was also very pretty. She was an excellent rider - one of the best in the country. She came from a fabulously rich family who lived in a extremely grand house.

Anyway, Frank looked at what Freya was doing. Hiding behind the large book, Freya was painting a rather gorgeous looking young man. Dark and somewhat ghostly, vamprific and pale all the same. But he was the most beautiful man Frank had ever seen.

He gasped - not realising what an incredible artist his sister was. Then realising that he was behind her - she jumped and exclaimed "Frank oh my!" "I'm terribly sorry sister!" Frank said.
"But this is wonderful". Freya blushed and quickly hid the painting. "No wait" Frank said and beckoned for her to pass it to him. Reluctantly she gave in and handed it to him.

"Who is this?" Frank asked. "I keep having dreams about someone who looks almost exactly this way" Freya said. "Wow, he's beautiful" Frank breathed. As the words left his mouth he quickly gasped and took them back. He thought Freya must be suspicious now.

That night, Frank was looking out his window and up the hill. He then looked across from the Way Manor, slightly, but still on the hill - sort of parallel to the manor - stood the church and cemetery. He squinted as he made out a figure, yes, it was the same dark-clad young man.
Frank reached out for his opera-binoculars and looked through them. He could make out a young man who looked to be about 17 maybe 18 or 19, who's extremely pale face was hidden under a mop of long, jet black hair.

The boy was wearing a black dress shirt, black strangely tight trousers, and a red tie, and a long black trenchcoat.
He removed the coat and placed it on the grave. This is where the routine began. The man took a single red rose from under the trench coat and placed it on the grave. He that slumped down and propped himself up on a tree.
He then did something unexpected and out of routine. He took out a long rope and tied a noose. Frank watched shocked as the boy tied it to the tree. Then the figure seemed to have second thoughts, luckily.
He then lay sat down cross - legged by the grave and took out his beloved blade. He then begun to slice up his beautiful pale arm. Muttering something as he cut.

Then suddenly, Frank could hear shouting, calling. He opened the multi paned window and leaned his head out of the large, thatched cottage, as to hear better.
It was a young woman's voice, calling a name. It sounded like Jerid maybe? Frank couldn't really make it out. But as the calling came from near the way mansion, the dark, now bloodied boy looked panicked as he quickly stuffed the blade away in his pocket and hurried to put the coat back on.
Then the same girl who normally seemed to save the boy. The dark, gothic one who had red lips and a flower crown. She was dressed very romantically and had a eerie but light, well thought out, poetic kind of voice.

She hugged the boy as he wept into her shoulder. She helped him hobble back into the dark.

Frank wondered where she came from. Like the boy, she always seemed to appear out of no where.

As he slept. Frank dreamt of the boy who seemed so sad and broken. And so hopeless as he sobbed into the girl's shoulder. He seemed, to Frank, unhinged and unstable as he muttered to himself. But also fearless and numb but also somehow in pain, as he tied the noose. Frank was very glad when the young man had second thoughts about hanging himself, because he couldn't help feeling like he recognised him from somewhere. He couldn't quite figure out what from. But he definitely recognised him.

Notes

Okay so chapter two is up! There's probably gonna be some frerard in the next chapter! Also, I'm so distraught about bob bryar. Does anyone know what's up with him? I'm so sad ;(

what do you guys think of the story so far?

Comments make me write faster!

love ya <3 xoxoF

p.s. Be warned, I love depressing, dark, creepy fics so if anyone knows any, please let me know! Xx

p.p.s. I have to rush out for the evening so I can't proofread this chapter, so please ignore any mistakes. Thanks. X