Where we were going to go I don't know. I smiled as Gerard ran alongside me, like in one of those shit cheesy teen films. Only we were actually running from teenagers almost half my size. Id be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit scared.
"where are we going to go?" Gerard breathlessly said to me as we slowed down to catch our breath.
"well there's a cupboard there..." He winked at me and his voice echoed through the seemingly empty hall. Everyone was outside eating and probably discussing what the fuck just happened there. Our moment of happiness was- very, very rudely- cut through the center by another fucking jock whom no-one-knows-the-name-of-cos-no-one-cares-but-cares-enough-to-not-mess-with-them.
He strode toward us and I scowled. He thought he owned the place. He must have seen straight through me.
"hey, faggot" the actually pretty homosexual seeming voice shouted in my face, sending Gerard flying backwards, not really knowing what to say or do.
"yes?" I sarcastically replied. This isn't going to be any easier plus, Gerard was right there. I had to be somewhat masculine, even if he didn't see it what so ever.
"guess what?" He looked me in the eyes with a distinct glow of...what was that? I was always pretty good at reading people's eyes, I mean look at me and Gerard now, bu-
ow. My head whipped back and slammed against a locker and the boy ran off, almost in fear of something. A blurry blackness quivered in the corner of my vision and I could feel a trickle of blood coming out my nose and-my mouth? What the fuck is going on? I felt faint. Very faint. Gerard rushed to me as I sank onto the floor with my knees to my chest. He hugged me tightly into his chest and I could hear his raspy panicked breathing in my ear, distracting mr from all the blood I was getting on his shirt.
"oh god, oh god, oh god..." He swallowed hard and I thought he was crying. That's the last I could make out before the blackness engulfed my vision and my arm fell weak from Gerard's embrace.
-------------------------
"he's dead" I thought. I didn't know what to do. That fucking shitstain of a human being just punched my boyfriend square in the face and I didn't do anything. I was frozen to the spot. I didn't know what to do now, so I held him in my arms as tightly as possible. I was shaking so hard, seeing him in a position like that made me want to take his place. How dare he ever do that to Frank. Just for being gay? I cried out loud as I felt his arm droop from my shoulders. For a split second I thought he was dead. I looked down at his unconscious self and put a blood-stained hand over my mouth to stop me crying even more. My knees rubbed against the plastic floor. I cant leave him here? I decided I could only do one thing, so be it. I scooped up his skinny legs and grabbed his light torso, grabbing his backpack and slinging it over my shoulder with unease. I picked him off the floor bridal style again, and it took me back to that evening. Seeing him happy and smiling and laughing and kissing me made me choke back tears. It hurt. I ran toward the unsupervised back door and out into the staff car park. I need to take him to hospital. I ran as hard as I could, watching him closely to make sure he was still...well. Alive. I kept checking his pulse and avoided the worried stares of various people sat in their cars. A few went to offer to help, bit didn't bother because I was in a rush. A big rush. My boyfriend and my sanity and my energetic stamina was at stake here. I brushed past the bushes outside peoples homes and by then I was crying so hard I couldn't even cough words up. I thought I was going to puke when I remembered exactly why I was still running. I loved him. So much. So much I would run halfway across town with his bleeding, half dead body in my arms. Plus, I was shit at running, but right now I felt like an athlete. I had to. I ran up the wide steps leading into the reception, and tried to catch my breath.
"oh my god..." The receptionist was clearly shocked. Well, I was crying my eyes out and carrying an unconscious bleeding boy and by the amount of blood on me it looked like I knocked him out myself.
This is going to be a tough one to explain.

Notes

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