Make It All Go Away

Why am I remembering that, Gerard thought, that was months ago.

That was before Frank left, taking his empty promises with him and leaving Gerard alone.

Before he realized what he felt for his best friend in the whole world.

Before those feelings destroyed everything.

How could all go so wrong so fast?

Gerard sat in a dark room with white walls, white sheets, and a barred window. SO wrong so fast.

He sat with his back against the wall and his knees to his chest.

Gerard’s day hadn’t been so great. His depression had gotten to the point where he could barely get out of bed and be able to function as a normal person.

He had been here for a few months now. He couldn’t remember how long because all the days had blurred together, which was most likely the cause of his inability to remain lucid.

The doctors had decided to put him on anti-psychotics after Gerard had decided to try to make a hole in the wall of his room the size of his head.

A few weeks later they decided to put him on anti-depressants, and cut his hair, after he’d tried to strangle himself to death with his hair.

He really was a mess.

Frank missed Gerard so much. But he had no choice. What could he have done? How could he help fix a wreck if he was one, too?

Frank drank. Frank cut himself. Frank starved himself because he thought he was fat. Frank was no shining example of the way life was supposed to be lived.

Frank wasn’t sure who “Frank” was anymore.

He couldn’t even remember when he stopped being “Frank” and started being the mystery man who knew 30 different ways to cut himself with a pencil.

He didn’t understand. Everything was supposed to be better when Gerard had come back. They were supposed to be having the time of their lives.

They were supposed to be….

They were supposed to be something by now.

Gerard was Frank’s sun.

And that was the problem.

Frank had, had too much of it.

He had too much of the wrong end of Gerard’s mood swings.

He could take being ignored by his mom, by his teachers, but he couldn’t take it from Gerard. He couldn’t take Gerard distancing himself or avoiding Frank.

He just couldn’t and it hurt.

It hurt to leave him.

It hurt to have to break promise, after promise.

He felt like he was walking on broken light bulbs on a tight rope.

He and Gerard were more alike than at first glance.

Frank had problems, too.

Why did everyone forget that?

Why couldn’t they see it?

Why didn’t it matter to them?

Why couldn’t they see the shadows under his eyes?

The cut wrists and burn marks?

The bruises and the blood? The smell of booze? The smell of blood?

Nothing? No question to the bloody lips and black eyes?

Nothing?

NOTHING?!

But Frank knew it wasn’t their fault. Not really. Ignorance is bliss and no one should have to put up with a mutilated teenage boy with an eating disorder and abusive parents.

His parents…

What were they to him?

Sometimes they were the best most loving, especially his mom. His dad would take him places and they would bond. Why not? Frank missed him. Their divorce had made things better for all of them. There were no more beatings his mom would have to suffer. No more tears she’d have to shed or worry he would have…no not anymore, because now…Frank was his target.

And Frank? He couldn’t escape.

Those weekends were the hardest, worse than the summers, because Mr. Iero didn’t have all the time he wanted to inflict mind-numbing pain on him. So he’d get months and, on the good days, a week’s worth of it all on a span of 2 days. Frank feared the day he’d have to go for spring break or Easter weekend.

Sometimes it was so bad he feared he wouldn’t go home. That he’d die there. In the house that he hated so much, with the father he wished would change.

But he had a plan, just in case he did die there.

Every weekend before going and after coming home from his dad’s, he’d take pictures. He would record the things his father would say to him sometimes when the insults were bad enough. Once he bought a nanny-cam with the birthday money his dad gave him (more like bribe money) and put it facing the door. He told his dad that his friend bought it for him. He got called a “pansy” for that.

“You’re a big boy. You’re in 5th grade. Why would you need a teddy bear? Are you afraid of the dark? Do you piss your sheets like a sissy boy when there’s a thunderstorm?”

Frank sat there holding the teddy bear, making sure it faced his dad.

When his father was done he whispered,” To protect me from you, Daddy.”

Frank and his dad locked eyes, “Are you scared of me son? Hm? Are you angry at me for the things I did? Hm? Are you?”

“No Daddy. I’m not a scared of you. I’m not angry…I’m afraid you’ll die alone, Daddy. I don’t want you to die alone. I love you daddy. Why don’t you love me?”

He was never quite sure how to answer that.

Frank never wanted an answer though. He knew he wouldn’t like it.

Just how he wouldn’t like the bruises, or the yelling, or how his father would try to control him.

He hoped his father would never find out that he was gay…but making out with your boyfriend in your room and not locking the door isn’t the best way to keep it a secret.

Nope…definitely not.

He has permanent scarring on his back now.

Doesn’t ‘Daddy’ love him so much?

He knows because his dad calls him a ‘fag’, a ‘homo’, an ‘abomination”, and the list keeps going.

Frank likes ‘Pansy’ the most because it’s nicer than ‘fag’ or ‘cocksucker’. God, he’s just like Gerard.

Especially what comes after ‘Pansy’, but the ‘My Son is a Failure and Waste of Life’ ‘Talk’ doesn’t get to him anymore. Just like Gerard.

Nope that’s what the drinking was for. ‘Drowning his sorrows’, I guess my dad was right, he thought, I am a fucking ‘Pansy’. I can’t even just walk out or hit him. I stay. Just like my mom I stay. I’m a fucking Pansy.

Just like Gerard. I’m too afraid. What’s wrong with me?

Am I dead? No, I’m dying.

Just like Mom and Gerard.

Gerard.

Why can’t I tell him?

He’s so beautiful.

He’s my Little Angel with Broken Wings.

Little angel with broken wings:

Hear it calling from afar
A gentle voice brings words unspoken
Little angel learned to fly
But she fell down, her wings were broken
Every day she dies insied
Can't close her eyes and shut it out
Little angel hear her cry
She's calling you, her heart is broken
Is it you? Is it you? You...

Never let the fire burn out
That spark of hope is all she's got
Little angel tried to fly
but she fell down, her wings are broken
Is it you?