The Only Way

The sound of my phone ringing woke me up. It was my mom calling from her office. Fuck. I was late once again. I didn't want to answer. I let it go straight to voicemail.

I could hear my dad downstairs. Why was he still home? I pushed myself out of bed, head first, crawling out of it like a fucking zombie. I still felt like shit because of yesterday and the fact that I had skipped dinner. I heard a knock on my door. I jumped fearing for the worst.

"Frank? Are you up? Open the door."

I was still half naked. I put on my pants as quickly as I could.

"Open the fucking door, I can hear you move."

Part of me wanted to jump out of the window and run as fast as I could but my dad would have probably knocked the door down before I could move a finger. My bedroom door was just an illusion of safety.
He unlocked the door from outside and swung it open.

"Why don't you ever listen, little piece of shit." He said, entering the room.

That was a typical scene from my everyday life. If he hadn't notice the dark bruises on my right side he would have probably hit me again.

"Put some ice on it." He said, avoiding any visual contact.

That was a first. He must have felt guilty. No, he was afraid I would talk about him to Gerard, that I would tell him how abusive he had been all my life. But then again, I wasn't suicidal. Not yet anyway.

"And breakfast's ready. Your mom called your school. You don't have to go today."

"I'll be working in my office so try to be quiet or I'll add some more colors to your ribs

The guilt had not lasted long. Threatening me must have been his favorite part of the day. As a child I had learned to keep my head down, making sure I was almost invisible. Anything and everything could make him mad, but it had been worse lately. He had a new job that was abnormaly stressful. Of course I was the one who had to pay for it.

As soon as he was out of sight I put on a shirt and picked up my phone. Gerard had texted me.

From Gerard:
Have a good day at school! Text me if something comes up.

I smiled like an idiot. He had sent it at 6 am meaning it was the first thing he had done when he had woke up. He was adorable. I hoped he didn't do that with all of his patients. Nah, his phone had not vibrate once the whole ride home. I was the only one. I felt special but weird. I never thought someone could be interested in me.

I went downstairs and breakfast was served. Cereals and milk. My dad didn't know how to cook. It was fine by me, it meant that I didn't have to eat in his company. I texted Gerard back.

To Gerard :
Didn't go to school. My dad's home. Prolly going back to bed after breakfast. Have a good day.

It was ten past eleven when I finally got off my phone after checking Facebook and Tumbrl. I spent way too much time on social medias instead of doing my homework. It was easier to be a useless piece of shit than to make something out of myself. I didn't want to contribute to this shitty world. I didn't want to spend another minute learning things that might never be useful.

I went upstairs and picked up my guitar. I was playing some random song I had learned in my music class when I heard my door open.

" Didn't you have homework to do or something to study? I asked you to be quiet, are you deaf ?"

"I'm sorry"

"Did you put ice on your side like I asked you to?"

" Yeah I did." I lied. Some part of me didn't want the bruises to fade. I thought that as long as they were showing, he wouldn't have the guts to hit me again. Silly me.

"Alright, now be quiet." He said, closing the door behind him.

Now that guitar time had been ruined, I decieded to write the lists that Gerard had asked me to write. I started with the things that made me mad :

- My dad, everything about him.
- Can't play guitar, have to be quiet cause dad's working home.
- Stupid homework.
- My mom forgot to pick me up.

I wrote down the last one because Gerard had told me to but I wasn't mad at her anymore. I wished she would forget me again if it meant Gerard would give me a ride home. He was more laid-back when he wasn't acting like my therapist. Oh and he was adorable, of course. I couldn't think of a better word to describe him.

Then I wrote down the things that made me happy:
- That I'm finally getting help.
- That my therapist is a nice guy.
- That he's fucking hot and I think I'm starting to have a massive crush on him.

I erased the last one. That was way too straightforward and it wasn't the best idea to write such things about my therapist. After all he was supposed to help me get better, not distract me from working on my problems.

I looked down at my lists. They were good enough, I thought, and made a promise to myself to add things later in the day.

I played video games till my mom arrived. She went in my room directly to see how I was and asked questions about Gerard. She told me she had talked to my dad and that they had both decided it was the best for me to continue my treatment. She probably didn't give him a choice. She was pretty convincing once she had made up her mind. She gave me an excuse about having to work late again as she headed to the door. Great, a night alone with my dad. Just what I needed. I looked down at my phone. Gerard had texted me.

From Gerard :
How was your day? Mine was productive. You're gonna be proud of me when you'll get to see my desk.
Hope I don't mess it up again before our next session.

Of course I was gonna be proud of him. I was proud of him simply for being born and getting up in the morning. That massive crush wasn't getting any smaller. Oh well.

To Gerard:
It was okay. Made the lists you asked for, you'll be proud of me too.

From Gerard:
Good. Any panic attacks today?

To Gerard:
Nope but still stressed out. Glad you texted me this morning tho.

There was nothing wrong with telling him I appreciated the fact that he had texted me, right ?

From Gerard:
No prob. I'm often worried about the people I care about, that's all.

It was only his way to make me feel I wasn't alone, was it?

To Gerard:
Can't wait to see you.

Maybe that was a bit too much.

To Gerard:
To show you the lists I mean.

Great. Now those lists had to be good.

From Gerard :
That's the spirit!

I couldn't think of anything to add so I went downstairs to contemplate the emptiness of the fridge. Orange juice, moldy cheese. Nice. An apple and a cucumber that was about to walk itself to the trash can. I took the apple and cut the good part of the cheese then went to the livingroom. I almost turned around when I saw my dad sitting on the couch. He had seen me. Too late.

"That's your dinner?" He said looking at my plate.

"There was nothing else in the fridge" I answered.

"No wonder you're so skinny, right? That's what you're gonna tell your therapist? That we don't feed you?"
Why did he have to be so mad all the time?

"I'm only getting help for my panic attacks dad, I won't say anything about you"

"Of course you won't" he said in a threatening way that was pretty explicit.

Tell him something about me and I'll beat the shit out of you. That's what he really meant, simple as that.
I ate my apple in silence, dreaming of a better life. The news on t.v. were as depressing as the atmosphere of the room.

"You done?" He asked, reaching for my plate. I gave it to him and he disappeared in the kitchen.

The less I talked, the lower were my chances of getting hit. I had learned that from an early age, but sometimes he was only waiting for an excuse to let off steam against me. And tonight was no different.

" Frank Iero, get your ass over here." He shouted from the kitchen.

I got up quickly. His voice had sent shivers down my spine. He had the lists I had written in one of his hand. Fuck. I must have forgotten I had bring them downstairs.

" What the fuck is this?" He said, his voice full of anger.

I knew better than to answer.

" What happened to " I won't say anything about you, dad", you little piece of shit ?"

" I was asked to make a list of what makes me mad..and I.."

" So everything about me makes you mad?" He asked. His voice was terrifiying. I knew what was coming.
He unbuckled his belt and before I knew it I was on the ground, my pants to my ankles, begging for him to stop hitting me.

" YOU. UNGRATEFUL. CUNT." He said, hitting harder at every word.

That hurt my soul more than it hurt my body. I was used to those beatings. My skin was harder to break each time. I zoned out till he stopped, heavy breathing, satisfied of the punishment he had given me. Tears were running down my face. They were tears of humiliation more than pain.

"You had it coming, stop crying like a fucking fag and take it like a man." He said, letting me put my pants back on. My ass was burning underneath the fabric.

"Now go to bed and don't mention this to anyone or else you'll wish you were dead." He said, ripping the lists I had written. I took his threat seriously and hurried up to my room.

I crashed into my bed, not bothering taking my clothes off. I just wanted to got to sleep and forget about everything. Maybe I would talk to Gerard about what happened, maybe I would even tell my mom. At this point I was better off dead, I thought. This wasn't the first I felt like this. And it certainly wasn't the last.

Notes

This one is kinda sad.
I'll make it up too you soon enough.

<3