I'm not Okay

I walk to school with Mikey the next morning. It’s beginning to get very cold daily now. It was never particularly warm at this hour in the morning but now it’s full on freeze-your-balls-off cold. And it’s not even fully bright yet.
We begin to walk across the pedestrian crossing, assuming that the car will stop because that’s the fucking law. Of course that law excuses you if you find it hilarious to nearly drive over someone you don’t like.
We end up having to jump awkwardly out of the way as Chase and Logan as they play their new favourite game “run over the emo”. Ignoring them we continue in to the school.
We make our way into the main hall. Mikey spots his friend Rian pretty quick and I’m left to wade my way toward my locker.
“Hi Gerard!” two voices come up behind me. Jack and Alex materialise from the crowd and stand either side of me.
“Hi guys,” I look nervously around. Jack and Alex have been having such an okay time in school I’m worried that them being seen with me may damage that. Sure enough I catch Chase glaring at the three of us.
“Uh, maybe you shouldn’t stand there,” I say awkwardly.
“What? Why?” Jack protests, standing taller defiantly.
“I just don’t think that it’s good for you two to be seen with me is all,” I say awkwardly. Alex’s face falls but Jack looks mildly amused.
“What if we don’t want to,” Jack says teasingly.
“I’m serious, I don’t think it’s a good idea… People might start fucking around with you,” and with that I walk off. I hope I haven’t offended them, they’re two of the endangered species of people actually willing to speak to me. I just don’t want Chase or Logan to start practically running over them.
“I’m in trouble,” Frank says as soon as I turn into the corridor. “And so are you.”
“Oh,” I put down my school bag. “What?”.
“The second you open your locker we’re going on a date with fate.” He taps my locker.
“What?”
“You say what a lot.”
“I’m a quizzical person. Now, what?”
“Fate isn’t terribly happy that I took you into the world of the dead while you’re still alive. You see these loopholes are supposed to be fate’s own personal gate and was never supposed to be used by anyone.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Especially people who still breathe and stuff.”
“Oh… so should I go?” I ask nervously.
“Well you can’t really escape it… It’s fate…” Frank looks nervous.
“So… now?” I put my hand on my locker. Frank nods and I begin shakily dialling the code. I fear I might miss French. Oh what a pity.
But what if you never come back at all I think on repeat.
The metal creaks as I open it and in a split second I’m pulled into the black of the back. Frank and I collide somewhere as we slip through the front door of death.
When we “land” again, and my eyes adjust there are no people around. There are no yew trees either, just black rippling through a colour I’ve never seen before. It hits me that I’ve never seen this colour before. I’m surrounded by a new colour…
I gasp at this realisation, I am the only living person to see this colour and that is fucking amazing.
Would you rather I return it to a colour from your spectrum, a voice says from somewhere. Maybe red? I know that is a favourite of yours.
Within seconds the beautiful new colour is replaced by the colour of blood, rippled with black.
“Um,” I find myself saying aloud, “what…”
Is to be your punishment? The voice reads my thoughts before I even compose them.
“Yes. Let’s discuss that.” Frank raises an eyebrow at me.
Discuss? Punishment? You have quite an incorrect concept of fate. I am not here to reprimand you and Mr. Frank Iero, only return the balance. You were missing from life for ten thousand eight hundred and fifty one seconds, sir and now those seconds will be added back onto your life in the time of your death, let’s hope for you then that you don’t die painfully. And then I can hear it no more. The thought that I will spend ten thousand eight hundred and fifty one seconds waiting for death in my final stage.
I look over at Frank who is nodding, fate obviously talking to him now. “But what if I do?” he says. I have no idea what is being said here now but my mind is wandering quickly. I’m thinking of all the horrible ways I could now have my death prolonged. Like, it would be fine if I was just sleeping and got an extra ten thousand eight hundred and fifty one seconds sleep. But what if I was awake, and was dying by torture or poison or dying from wounds or a disease.
Frank walks over and places his hand on my shoulder. I close my eyes and let the weird feeling of suction carry us back to the land where I have to breathe and eat and piss. The locker opens and once again I land on my face.
“You okay?” Frank asks, offering me a hand up. I can hear people in the main hall. Maybe it’s lunch.
“Yea,” I shake myself off, “What time is it?”
He shrugs, “whatever time we left. Fate doesn’t deal with normal time.”
The bell rings before I can ask him what is happening to him to re-establish the balance. I pick up my bag and French things and walk quickly toward my class. Looking back I see Frank climbing back in my locker.

“Oui,” I say. The only reply I can conjure to do you think this is acceptable in French. The teacher frowns. I’m obviously not an ideal student. It’s not my fault I just can’t speak French that well. Actually it kind of is considering I spent every French class for the past three years doodling. It really helped my drawing skills though and I perfected noses as a freshman. Last year I also drew a very detailed comic about a boy who became a really famous band member and then went insane. It was almost finished when my teacher took it off me and shredded it in front of the class, making me do detention and penance. Total medieval bitch. I spent three lunch times a week in the school chapel, being stared at by a nun as I recited Hail Mary. The other two days I sat in detention. This carried on for two months.
My teacher sighs and scribbles something on my homework. She then slides it back to me, calling the next student up. A large, bold, red E glistened with fresh ink in the corner, melting into a disjointed waterfall of words explaining why I deserved this grade. Messy, no effort, no grasp of the basic grammatical rules, etc. Whatever, I walk back to my desk and shove the paper into my bag. It’s not like I actually tried to use nice French. And I can’t help my handwriting…
After class I get dirty looks left, right and centre. Mainly from Miranda who stands in the hall specifically to glare at me. She believes being able to speak French makes her immediately more attractive and therefore above everyone. It doesn’t help that she is pious in the eyes of the teachers as well as unnaturally hot in the eyes of the students. Beside her stands her friends, and she has many. Talia stands at her right hand side. A place of pride. She scowls just as much as Miranda but she is a more complex character.
Ask anyone in the school and they will say that Miranda is hot. Boy or girl. But no girls really say it with quite the same feverish acknowledgement as Talia. Other than Miranda, Talia is seen as the schools sex pot of gold. All the guys want to screw Miranda and all the girls want to be her. Only Talia also wants to screw Miranda while being Talia. She hides behind her religion to escape having to do any more than kiss her boyfriends and be seen with them at prom.
If I really wanted to fuck with Miranda or Talia, I’d just expose this. That would make them both uncomfortable, whether they believed it or not. Miranda would never let a sinning lesbian stand so close to her, even if they were once best friends. It’s like she believed lesbianism could be passed like a sickness. Idiot.
I’m just saying, if one in five people are not straight why the fuck would there only be three not straight people in the whole school.

The week passes so fucking slowly. Frank isn’t around before class, after class or during lunch so I’m left with a lone hour or therapy. I spend a lot of time on my own drawing.
School is out for a week for Halloween break, leaving me with yet another week without Frank. Halloween is even his birthday and now I don’t know if I’ll ever get to wish him a happy birthday.
I wonder if he even knows it’s his birthday.
Jack and Alex help Mikey organise a Halloween party. Mikey isn’t a social butterfly, or anything like it, so Mikey’s house party is really Jack and Alex’s party in Mikey’s house.
And I spend it locked into my own room drawing.
I don’t mean for it to sound sour, Jack and Alex would have loved me to join in, I just know that most of the guests wouldn’t be so delighted. At about two am, when I’m sitting in bed watching Netflix, an energetic knocking rattles my door.
A very drunk Alex is swaying in my doorway, dressed as a pirate. “Present!” he smiles and shoves a bottle of Smirnoff ice in my hands, “Merry Halloween and a happy New… Yay!” he turns away and stumbles over to my staircase. I leave the bottle on my desk and run over to him.
“Alex!” I say and grab his elbows before he makes a swan dive over the landing banister. “Come on, sit down here. Yea like that.” I sit him down on the top step. “Okay lets slide down now,” I say sitting beside him. I hold him vaguely steady as we slip down my stairs and land in the front hall.
Some girl I don’t know is passed out against my coatracks. I see Logan’s younger brother Mathew make his way toward her. “Okay Alex, you’re free,” I say standing up and walking to intervene the likely taking advantage of that girl.
“FREEDOM!” Alex shouts jumping up. “God bless America!” he grins and runs into my kitchen. I ignore him and stand directly in front of Mathew. Even as a sophomore he’s way taller than me. Luckily he’s drunk.
“What are you doing Gerarrrrd,” he slurs.
I bend down next to the girl. “I have to take her upstairs now Mathew,” I pick her up bridal style.
“No you don’t!” he protests, stamping his feet. “I want to fuck herrrrrrr. She promised”
“No need to be vulgar, Mathew,” I say struggling to hold the girl’s dead weight. Her head rolls to one side as I try to hitch up her weight. She’s wearing cat ears.
“Why do you get to?! She was flirting with me earlier, not you!”
“Well I hope you enjoyed that,” I sigh turning away. As I carry the girl up stairs Mathew follows me in form of taunts and complaints.
“But you’re gay. Gay people don’t fuck girls!” He cries and throws his shoe at the back of my head. I wince and walk the rest of the way to the spare bedroom on the second floor. Whoever I’m carrying better thank me. I lay her down on the spare bed and leave a tie on the door, hoping that will keep people out. I’m almost back to my room to continue Breaking Bad when I hear frightened knocks and calls from the bathroom on this floor. It was locked from the outside.
Sighing, I walk over to unlock the door and Talia and another girl fall out of the bathroom, drunk to hell.
Talia stiffens as she spots me. “You better shut up,” she hisses as the other girl walks down the stairs. Talia shoves her boob down into her white angel dress as if to make it final and walks shakily down the stairs after the other girl.
I just sigh and re-enter my room.

Notes

Okay I'm updating at a much more rapid rate now that I'm off sick XD Only thing is is I've missed a history exam (my favourite subject </3) and I apparently have a shit ton of stuff due all next week which i haven't started. Fear not my procrastination skills mean i definitely won't have it done to any sort of standard... Yaaaay!
I shall probably update tomorrow and thank you very much for reading ^-^