Frank rolls over to face away from me, obviously in attempt to ignore me.

“Answer my question Frank,” I say, beginning to become frustrated.

“I don’t know, I’m tired,” I hear him murmur as he buries his head into the pillow. Why can’t he just answer my question?

“What sort of answer is that!? You were fucking trying to kill yourself!” I practically scream at him, “WHY FRANK? WHY?”

He turns over to face me, our faces inches away. If this were a movie, Frank would’ve kissed me and told me he loved me, then we’d live happily ever after and ride into the sunset on a fucking unicorn or some shit like that. This wasn’t a movie.

“I DON’T FUCKING KNOW!” Frank was seriously angry with me, “Depression isn’t strategic! It doesn’t think, ‘oh that kid has a perfect life, let’s leave him alone’ or ‘shit, that kid is fucked up, lets fuck him up even more.’ Any asshole can be depressed! It’s like any other mental illness, it doesn’t give a flying fuck who you are or what you mean, it’s just looking for another victim.”

Frank pulls away from me, tears flooding down his face.

“Just leave me alone, okay?” He whimpers.

“Frank, I-“

“No, Gerard, I want to be alone. Don’t talk to me.”

I sigh, defeated, and return to my bed.

Something’s missing. I rack my brain thinking about what it could be. Whatever it was, I needed it now. I was starting to panic. This sensation was like nothing I’d felt before. The longing was so strong that it hurt. My lungs were sting-

Lungs.
I climb off the bed and shakily grab a suitcase from under my bed. I rummage through the contents, tossing various articles of clothing and ‘personal’ items on the floor in my urge to find them. Bingo.

I practically run out of the room, leaving my key. I hear Frank ask where I’m going, but I’m too desperate to reply. I rush down the halls, which I can now successfully navigate without getting lost, and eventually end up in the same spot where I’d beaten Bert up earlier that month. I decided this was the perfect place to do it, nobody had seen me and Bert, right?

I pulled the small, blue box out of my pocket and flipped open the lid. I’m pretty sure that I saw the thin, white sticks smiling when I slipped one into my mouth. The light from a window behind me reflected off of the lighter as I set the cancer stick alight.

Just as I remember.

I hadn’t smoked since I’d gotten here, which was a huge change, since I’d chain-smoked pretty much all day, every day back home. I breathe in deeply and feel the thick smoke filling up my lungs. I honestly don’t know how I’d survived without this wondrous sensation coursing through my body.

I’m about three smokes into the packet when I hear footsteps.

“Shit,” I whisper to myself as I try to put out the cigarette and shove everything back into the packet. I was too late though.

“You too, eh?” I hear an unfamiliarly cheery voice say, and see Frank emerge from around the corner.

“Yeah, I guess,” I say.

Frank seems awfully happy. Well at least he is happy.

I can see that behind that smile, though, there is nothing but a broken kid who need help. He needs it fast. I’m scared that Frank is falling apart, and I am to blame. I need to save Frank. I need to save him from himself, because he’s destroying himself. I don’t know how. I don’t want to damage Frank even more.

Wait, no, I barely even know this guy.

I want to though.

Notes

I AM SORRY

I HAVE NOT UPDATED FOR DAYS

PLEASE FORGIVE ME

I still don't know where this is fic is going, ugh by me ft. frank's random mood swings

Baii!

~Sovay♥