The Thing About Pain

The scream filled my ears and my eyes shot open as soon as I heard it. Who did it belong to? Gerard. He scrambled up and he held on to the covers hard, his knuckles turning whiter than they ever were before. His breathing was uneven, suggesting it was infact due to horror. I scooted up to the headboard so I was now in sitting position and I spread out my arms to Gerard. Without hesitation, he gladly obliged. His head was buried in my chest and I could hear his sobs, as well as I would feel his tears. His muffled sobs were of concern to me. He was trying not to show his pain, he was trying so hard to keep them silent, but he couldn't.
After half an hour, his sobs quieted down, and he lifted his head so that he was eye level with me. He held my gaze, and I felt a blush spreading through to my cheeks. He glance down at my lips, but I must be imagining this. He pulled his arms away from my waist, but left one to sit on my torso. My heartbeat was going at 150 beats per minute as opposed to 80-100 beats per minute. This couldn't be, he couldn't like me. I'm not ready.

"Gee?" I asked to snap him out of his trance. He just hummed in response. "Tell me what your nightmare was about, please." I brought my hand up and brushed some hair out of his face. At first, I didn't think he would, but then he sighed.

"Well, I get these nightmares, they're like tremors, but they're worse than tremors. They're these terrors. And sometimes, I see people that I love dying, and it feels as if somebody was gripping my throat. This time it was far worse than that. There was a kid talking to you. He was saying that it's okay between the two of you now that I'm dead. You kept screaming that it wasn't so he grabbed your arm and yelled at you. He told you, and I quote; 'Listen here you little shit, he's dead, he's out of my way now. You were always mine. I told you I'd fucking kill him'. I didn't understand that part. Anyway, he left you alone after beating you senseless, and you mustered up enough energy to," He shut his eyes tight and sighed out the next words. "to hang yourself." It dawned upon me. Timmy would do anything to keep Gerard away from me, or to scare him that he seeks my comfort, so he could kill him. That's how it will end, no matter what. It will end with a noose for me, and a murder for Gerard.

"It's how we die. I with a rope, and you with a murder." I let out.

"No, Frank. I won't let it." I closed my eyes. No Gerard, you need to understand. I need to stay away.

"Then you need to get away, and stay away." I let out a shaky breath.

"Is that what I am to you? A fucking joke? Yeah, I get it, you're here because you're fucked up in the head and see shit, but that doesn't give you the right to fuck around with me! You need to get that into your fucking head asshole. What, we don't talk for a week and then when you decide to talk to me, and it's great and dandy, you throw me away again? You can't do that! I even told you all my fucking sorrows. I was there when you needed me most, and now you can't help when I need you?" His anger takes over, but he doesn't bother moving off of me.

"Don't you see this is beyond me, Gee?" I ask in a hushed tone.

"Right, fucking beyond you? As if. It's just your stupid hallucination Frank, and don't you fucking dare call me Gee. Understand? You fucking hurt me. Don't fucking call me a pet name." He hissed.

"Fine, I fucking won't. I'll just save your ass instead Gerard Arthur Way. I'll just stay away from you, and watch you live as opposed to get murdered. "

"Frank, don't you see? It's all a lie. You're brain is creating these things. You're fucking crazy!"

"I'M NOT FUCKING CRAZY!" I've had it. I shoved him off of me and got out of bed. I started to get dressed, not caring what I put on. I threw on a pair of sweatpants, and an oversized Misfits t-shirt. "You're treating me like I'm a fucking child. I'm not! I've been here four fucking years, trapped in this hell. No friends, why? BECAUSE EVERY FUCKING TIME I MAKE A FRIEND, THEY END UP DEAD BECAUSE OF THEM!" I screamed at him.

"SHUT THE HELL UP. You can't talk to me that way! Do you not understand how much this crushes me?"

"What, that I'm a fucking asshole? Boo- Fucking- Hoo. Deal with it. If you value your life, I suggest you let me stay the fuck away from you." I let out, pull the door open, and when I reach the other side I slam it shut. I'm done with hurting him, I'm done with my life, and I'm done with that, Timmy, motherfucker. I stormed down the stark halls. Everyone moved out of my way, so I take it that I must have looked pretty fucking pissed off. Either way, people stayed away from me. I had secrets too. Not that anyone would care to know. Not that Gerard cared, and not that he should.
I stormed past the cafeteria and into the shrinks office. Wow, I used the term I mentally scolded Gerard for? Yeah well shut the fuck up. I'm not in the sunshine-iest mood currently, and everything around me was fueling my anger. As I stormed into the office, the shrink, Mrs. Lark, looked stupefied at my presence. She pulled out a notepad and handed it to me. I began to scribble words on the page. The pencil marks from this page would leave creases in, at least, the three next pages. The lead was darker on the stark white page than I intended it to be, but I didn't care. Two words were on the page.

Transfer me.

As soon as those words were read by Mrs. Lark she straight up answered with a no, and asked what was wrong. I groaned and stormed out of her tiny little office. It wasn't fit to be a shrinks office anyway. It was far too small and cramped and she didn't have DSM III, IV, or V. That's a book called Diagnostic and Statistical Manual. It lists every psychological known to man-kind. If she was a real shrink, she's have at least one of them. She barely had room for two chairs, one being her own, and she had a bookshelf with binders, and our files.
I left her tiny office, to go outside and get fresh air, only to be greeted by Ray. He was a kind dude, with a fro that seemed like it could swallow your entire existence if it was needed. He was tall, much taller than I was anyway, he was wearing an Iron Maiden shirt, black jeans, and Converse were snug on his feet. His soft eyes told me he wasn't looking for a fight.

"Dude, you shouldn't be harsh on Gerard." He breathed out. Great, thanks for bringing that up. "I heard part of your argument, and after you walked out he started to cry. You really fucked up, man." What is he, some fucking guru on what to do when fighting?

"Oh? I fucked up? Why don't you ask my dear fucking friend, who basically wants to rip his throat out if I don't stay away?" I heard the anger in my own voice. That clearly caught Ray off guard. I couldn't tell if it was the truth or the fact that I spoke to him.

"Schizo, right?" He asked. I slowly nodded. "Dude, I won't judge, but maybe, this person isn't-" I cut him off.

"They're real." I growled.

"Okay, okay, but, you like him right? And if you like him as much as he- I can't say that, shit. If you like him, with all your heart, you'll eventually see through that it's worth the risk, and that if anyone tried to kill him, you'll be there to stop it. Get over your fear of your demons. Once you show them you're not afraid, they can't bother you anymore." I nodded. I understood one hundred percent what he was trying to say, but what he wanted me to achieve wasn't easy. And despite that we take our medication with our meals every morning, it would never be good enough to control whatever demon I had. I was too torchered by cruelty. Too damaged to be able to fight. All I could do was stay away and hope they wouldn't make a surprise attack. "Frank, Gerard was really upset that one week. He doesn't want to be here, and neither do you, but make it worthwhile." With that Ray walked away from me.
A month went by without interacting with Gerard. It was painful to say the least, and Timmy visited me nonetheless.
One day I was alone in the showers. Timmy and Dan supervising me. How could Dan not see Timmy? It's not like he'd care. I was washing my hair when someone pushed me against the wall, the tiles cold against my body. I whimpered in fear. The person reached down for my crotch and suddenly I knew what would happen, but I was far too afraid to speak.

"Frank, I've been waiting so fucking long..." The harsh, raspy voice venomously hissed into my ear as they began rubbing. I whimpered. "I'm so glad I'm your supervisor, and I can't tell you how happy I am that you dropped your little boy toy." I was on the verge of tears. I didn't want this. I didn't ask for this.
I don't know what was worse, the fact that this wasn't Timmy, or the fact that Dan, who's supposed to ensure this doesn't happen, is doing this to me. I couldn't stop anything my body was doing to me. I couldn't stop myself from getting a problem from him rubbing me slowly. I swallowed hard. I couldn't defend myself against Dan. He was too strong, and he was trained for this. Well, not this, but to protect me from people pouncing on me and trying to kill me.

"Little Frankie likes this a lot doesn't he?" He purred into my ear. He just stopped and turned me around to face him. I whimpered. "Aw he does, doesn't he?" He was naked too, just as I feared. He began to grin against my hips, and I let out a small moan. No. Stop it. "Frankie, you don't know what you're doing to yourself, or me." I'm dirty, so, so dirty. Worthless. I couldn't think straight. He was grinding faster until it actually hurt. "Now, you fuck, how about you get on your knees and fucking suck." His harsh words hit me hard, and when I didn't react immediately, he punched my stomach, so I fell to my knees, and shoved himself into my mouth. I gagged as he began to fuck my mouth.
Timmy watched everything whilst yelling that I deserved it and that maybe next time, I should listen when he tells me to stay away from Gerard, and when they were done with me, Dan gave me a nice kick in the stomach and left me crying, whilst Timmy beat me senseless once again.
I was sexually violated within the month without Gerard. I don't know how I felt about it. The one and only good thing that happened was that on my birthday, someone had dropped a package off at my room. The package was wrapped up in black wrapping paper with a red ribbon. I unwrapped it carefully, ensuring I don't rip the tape, and the paper off. When I carefully removed the lid, the first thing I saw was skeleton gloves and I nearly died. I fucking loved them so much. Immediately, I slipped them on. They cut off just past the knuckles and I grinned like a mad man. I could finally cover my hands when I went outside. Underneath it was a drawing of me. The detail was so precise, that it was amazing. Whoever did this, drew my tattoos so well. It was a picture of me, laughing, and my eyes were nearly closed. I picked it up, and noticed another one. It was me, as I slept.
Here's the thing. I sleep with my glasses on. I don't know why, but I just do. It made my mornings less complicated.
I hung up the pictures above my bed so I could look at them every night. I swear, as I did that I saw Gerard give of a slight, sad smile my way, and then look away from me.
During breakfast, on the morning of November first, I swallowed my pill, and began to get up when I noticed a new employee come over to me.

"Michael Way is here to visit you." And with that the black haired girl walked away. I raised both eyebrows and left. Out of the cafeteria and into the long white 'L' shaped hall and down into the visitors room. I walked into the room and noticed that Mikey was wearing a black dress shirt, and dress pants, with a red tie. This couldn't be good. He never wore formal attire, especially to hospital visits. I walked up to the lanky man and sat down.

"Frank. There's something I need to tell you, and it concerns your family." I swallowed hard for the next words that tumbled out of his mouth.

Notes