You should have never come
Chapter 8
...Keep it cool, Gerard, keep it cool.
I just needed to get to my room before I get over-excited.
Gerard’s POV
We silently walked in the direction of the hotel, none of us saying a word. The sounds of the laughing teens faded in the distance until they almost completely disappeared. The silence felt comfortable though, and it helped me keep my distance from Frank, who was just looking straight ahead. I was scared that if we started talking, I’d unconsciously come closer to him like I usually do.
I didn’t feel sick anymore and I told him that we should probably go back to the pool, but he said he wanted the nurse to check me anyways, just in case. I didn’t protest- after all, this is his job, worrying about us and everything. If something is actually wrong he’ll be blamed for not paying enough attention, and I didn’t want him to get in trouble.
As we walked, I took notice of his tattooed body. He was in pretty good shape, even though he didn’t seem too sporty. His ears were pierced, as well as his nose and lower lip. On his lower stomach there was a tattoo of two birds, connected by the word “and”. They were half covered by the fabric of his boxers, and I wondered if there was anything else below them. On his neck there was a tattoo of a scorpion, on the other side - scissors with some writing over them. On his back there was an image of jack-o-lantern, “Keep the faith” above it. He had a tattoo sleeve, but I couldn’t make anything specific out as he was swinging his arms back and forth. His hands were covered in ink as well.
I guess you could call tattoos and stuff like that my kink- I’d get them myself if I wasn’t scared of needles.
I’ve never had a crush on a teacher- I always thought it was weird and creepy. At my school they were all old and extremely mean, as if they were chosen like that on purpose, and I couldn’t imagine having any warm feelings towards them at all. Not even the slightest sympathy.
When I heard stories about students being in relationships with tutors, only a thought of it made me sick to my stomach. My head produced mental images of soggy skin, awful blisters and countless diseases, not matter what age the teachers were. Now it was different, though, and I couldn’t explain why my opinion changed so quickly. Maybe it was because Frank was only two years older than me and basically a teen himself, or that he seemed really relaxed all the time, but I really didn’t mind being with him. At all.
Could Frank even be considered a teacher? Probably, he is supposed to supervise us.
We have just reached the grocery store when Frank suddenly turned to me, and I felt his eyes on myself. I can always tell when I’m being watched, and it feels horrible. I shivered.
“Gerard?” he asked after a moment of what seemed to be hesitation, leaning in slightly and trying to catch my gaze. I felt my cheeks heat up.
Really, ‘cmon you piece of shit, why don’t you fucking blush now and make a fool of yourself?
“Yeah?” I replied, not daring to look at him. A second of silence between us now seemed like a whole eternity.
“What’s your worst fear?” he finally asked. I looked up at him in confusion. To be honest, I didn’t expect him to ask that. I didn't expect him to ask me anything that could be answered with something more than "yes" or "no".
I furrowed my eyebrows, thinking of an answer. What is my worst fear? I guess I don’t even have one. It’s weird, I’m not really scared of anything at all. I used to be really easy to freak out just a couple of years ago, but now if I saw a real murder a couple of meters away I don’t think I’d get mentally scarred forever or anything. I still remember the feeling of fear though. I remember how your heart booms in your ears, how your vision blurs, how your breath hitches and your heart stops its function, making you dizzy. I remember the helpless tears, silent, possessive terror overtaking your whole body, and having completely no control over yourself. All those memories come from my early childhood, and I know they’ll be with me forever. At least I want them to stay, because now it seems like it’s the only way I can be sure fear even exists.
I remember how when I was small, maybe just four or five years old, my grandparents came to visit us for two weeks. They just came back from a holiday, and my grandpa brought me a great birthday present- a black, realistic, real-sized toy gorilla. It looked alive, as if it was freshly out of the jungle, and its fangs were bared as if it was about to attack. I thought it was the scariest thing in the whole universe, but everyone seemed alright with it so my parents decided to keep it in my room. It sat on a small chair across my bed, staring right at me with its glossy hazel eyes as I plastered myself to the wall, trying to get as further from it as possible. It brought me to tears more than once, and since then I’ve had a fear of the dark till I was about 14.
When was the last time I cried from being scared? I was 7, I think. I cried because I was scared of death. I imagined myself lying in my bedroom under the covers, old, unable to move and, most importantly, all alone. I never imagined being surrounded by friends and family when I die- it was always an empty, dark, dusty room, with my bed standing lonely in the corner. The kind of room no one would stay in willingly- that was where I was to draw my last breath. I got hysterical over death. But what terrified me even more than my own end, was the idea that I was to outlive my parents and most people I know. I thought of having to see them die, putting their frozen bodies in coffins. And once again, being all alone in the whole world, without their support, without their love for the whole eternity. Really, now that I think about it, it’s pretty scary. After I told my parents about my fits, they took me to a therapist, and he supposedly fixed me. My nightmares disappeared, everything went back to normal.
But what if I am scared all the time, but I’m so used to the feeling that I don’t even notice it anymore? Maybe fear is a part of me now, buried so deep inside of me that I can’t even tell it’s there? Maybe for me, being scared is as normal as breathing or blinking- I don’t think about it, I just do it non-stop. Maybe I need to be scared. Is that the reason I watch so many horror movies? Because not feeling fear just feels strange and uncomfortable? That could explain my lack of expected reaction while I watch them- I’m already scared to the maximum, there is no further, no matter how much I press on it. Really, that does sound like truth. Humans can get used to anything. Is that how serial killers feel while stabbing their victims? Is fear and adrenaline a drug to them? An obsession they must keep up with or die?
Suddenly I remembered that Frank was still there, waiting for my reply.
“I… I, uh… I’m... I’m scared of being buried alive,” I stuttered, trying to sound convincing.
“Oh, well, I’m really scared of spiders, so if you find one of those eight-legged assholes in your room, do me a favour and don’t call me,”
I just needed to get to my room before I get over-excited.
Gerard’s POV
We silently walked in the direction of the hotel, none of us saying a word. The sounds of the laughing teens faded in the distance until they almost completely disappeared. The silence felt comfortable though, and it helped me keep my distance from Frank, who was just looking straight ahead. I was scared that if we started talking, I’d unconsciously come closer to him like I usually do.
I didn’t feel sick anymore and I told him that we should probably go back to the pool, but he said he wanted the nurse to check me anyways, just in case. I didn’t protest- after all, this is his job, worrying about us and everything. If something is actually wrong he’ll be blamed for not paying enough attention, and I didn’t want him to get in trouble.
As we walked, I took notice of his tattooed body. He was in pretty good shape, even though he didn’t seem too sporty. His ears were pierced, as well as his nose and lower lip. On his lower stomach there was a tattoo of two birds, connected by the word “and”. They were half covered by the fabric of his boxers, and I wondered if there was anything else below them. On his neck there was a tattoo of a scorpion, on the other side - scissors with some writing over them. On his back there was an image of jack-o-lantern, “Keep the faith” above it. He had a tattoo sleeve, but I couldn’t make anything specific out as he was swinging his arms back and forth. His hands were covered in ink as well.
I guess you could call tattoos and stuff like that my kink- I’d get them myself if I wasn’t scared of needles.
I’ve never had a crush on a teacher- I always thought it was weird and creepy. At my school they were all old and extremely mean, as if they were chosen like that on purpose, and I couldn’t imagine having any warm feelings towards them at all. Not even the slightest sympathy.
When I heard stories about students being in relationships with tutors, only a thought of it made me sick to my stomach. My head produced mental images of soggy skin, awful blisters and countless diseases, not matter what age the teachers were. Now it was different, though, and I couldn’t explain why my opinion changed so quickly. Maybe it was because Frank was only two years older than me and basically a teen himself, or that he seemed really relaxed all the time, but I really didn’t mind being with him. At all.
Could Frank even be considered a teacher? Probably, he is supposed to supervise us.
We have just reached the grocery store when Frank suddenly turned to me, and I felt his eyes on myself. I can always tell when I’m being watched, and it feels horrible. I shivered.
“Gerard?” he asked after a moment of what seemed to be hesitation, leaning in slightly and trying to catch my gaze. I felt my cheeks heat up.
Really, ‘cmon you piece of shit, why don’t you fucking blush now and make a fool of yourself?
“Yeah?” I replied, not daring to look at him. A second of silence between us now seemed like a whole eternity.
“What’s your worst fear?” he finally asked. I looked up at him in confusion. To be honest, I didn’t expect him to ask that. I didn't expect him to ask me anything that could be answered with something more than "yes" or "no".
I furrowed my eyebrows, thinking of an answer. What is my worst fear? I guess I don’t even have one. It’s weird, I’m not really scared of anything at all. I used to be really easy to freak out just a couple of years ago, but now if I saw a real murder a couple of meters away I don’t think I’d get mentally scarred forever or anything. I still remember the feeling of fear though. I remember how your heart booms in your ears, how your vision blurs, how your breath hitches and your heart stops its function, making you dizzy. I remember the helpless tears, silent, possessive terror overtaking your whole body, and having completely no control over yourself. All those memories come from my early childhood, and I know they’ll be with me forever. At least I want them to stay, because now it seems like it’s the only way I can be sure fear even exists.
I remember how when I was small, maybe just four or five years old, my grandparents came to visit us for two weeks. They just came back from a holiday, and my grandpa brought me a great birthday present- a black, realistic, real-sized toy gorilla. It looked alive, as if it was freshly out of the jungle, and its fangs were bared as if it was about to attack. I thought it was the scariest thing in the whole universe, but everyone seemed alright with it so my parents decided to keep it in my room. It sat on a small chair across my bed, staring right at me with its glossy hazel eyes as I plastered myself to the wall, trying to get as further from it as possible. It brought me to tears more than once, and since then I’ve had a fear of the dark till I was about 14.
When was the last time I cried from being scared? I was 7, I think. I cried because I was scared of death. I imagined myself lying in my bedroom under the covers, old, unable to move and, most importantly, all alone. I never imagined being surrounded by friends and family when I die- it was always an empty, dark, dusty room, with my bed standing lonely in the corner. The kind of room no one would stay in willingly- that was where I was to draw my last breath. I got hysterical over death. But what terrified me even more than my own end, was the idea that I was to outlive my parents and most people I know. I thought of having to see them die, putting their frozen bodies in coffins. And once again, being all alone in the whole world, without their support, without their love for the whole eternity. Really, now that I think about it, it’s pretty scary. After I told my parents about my fits, they took me to a therapist, and he supposedly fixed me. My nightmares disappeared, everything went back to normal.
But what if I am scared all the time, but I’m so used to the feeling that I don’t even notice it anymore? Maybe fear is a part of me now, buried so deep inside of me that I can’t even tell it’s there? Maybe for me, being scared is as normal as breathing or blinking- I don’t think about it, I just do it non-stop. Maybe I need to be scared. Is that the reason I watch so many horror movies? Because not feeling fear just feels strange and uncomfortable? That could explain my lack of expected reaction while I watch them- I’m already scared to the maximum, there is no further, no matter how much I press on it. Really, that does sound like truth. Humans can get used to anything. Is that how serial killers feel while stabbing their victims? Is fear and adrenaline a drug to them? An obsession they must keep up with or die?
Suddenly I remembered that Frank was still there, waiting for my reply.
“I… I, uh… I’m... I’m scared of being buried alive,” I stuttered, trying to sound convincing.
“Oh, well, I’m really scared of spiders, so if you find one of those eight-legged assholes in your room, do me a favour and don’t call me,”
Notes
Alright I feel like I need to explain myself and why this chapter might be my favourite so far.
I just think it's funny how Gee got so deep on the topic of death and fear and stuff, and then Frank is just like "Oh well I'm scared of spiders"
That's all it is, sorry haha
there is going to be more actual frerard soon, so don't worry))
feedback and comments please,
gerard_needs_to_chill
This was actually the first fanfiction I ever read. (Hence that was like a year and a half ago)
5/1/17