I Hate Your Mask

I feel two hands grip my arms, squeezing tightly, too tightly. I shut my eyes harder pretending it's not happening. 'did Frank leave?' is all I can think.
“Open your eyes Gerard I think you'll want to see this” I feel a tear fall.
“No I don't want to see anything, you disgust me.” I'm crying now, there's no denying it.
“Fine don't look more fun for me.” I open my eyes widely,
“Wait Jerry stop!” he began to take off my jeans. “Jerry please stop!”
Frank's P.O.V
Gerard fell asleep before the movie ended, I didn't even notice for the first 10 minutes or so, but when I did I could see he was having a nightmare. His face was scrunched up and a tear was starting to come out of one eye.
GASP* he snapped his eyes open, and sat up. He was breathing heavily, sweating, tears still slipping out, “Oh Frank I thought you left.”
“Sorry guess you'll just have to deal with me for a bit longer.”
“Yeah I guess, you wanna go sleep upstairs?” he asks
“Yeah let's go.” we go upstairs to what I assume is his room, there's a big bed at the center of the wall opposite the door, and a big dresser to the left side, and a big walk-in closet. How can you hate the people who give you all this? There's claret curtains, beautifully designed walls and floors, and finally a plain bed devoid of any pillows or sheets, because if you recall he burned them during another one of his famous hissy fits.
“Oh right...” he says, probably just remembering what he did. “I'll go ask Mikey for some blankets.” he walks out leaving my alone in his room... … … … … … … … …alright everyone knows I need to look around. Underwear drawer at the very bottom that's where everyone keeps there most important things, right?
“Blades... probably not jut for art,” little bitch, it's surprising how little you care when you don't like someone. “sketch book...” with some pretty sexy drawings (not sexual just good) “and a journal” which I must read let's go to the last page.

I'll start with this, I know why I do the things I do, but I don't know why I make the things I do known to others. A psychologist would probably call it a cry for help, and who knows it might be because I do want help. I just don't want to feel the shame or the pity that others will hand out to me:I burned my sheets today, I don't feel bad about it, but it also didn't make me feel better. Jerry's probably just gonna buy new ones and everything will go back to 'normal'. I wouldn't call what he does normal. I miss being broke as fuck, at least then I didn't feel cheap. And at least then Mikey didn't hate me. And at least then Donna acted like a mother. I feel like dieing, nobody would really care anyways, but every time I'm about to do it I remember Mikey and how my death would impact him in the long run.
I wrote a song today, about Donna, people will probably think it's about an ex, which is okay because I'll always know what it means and that's all that matters. I call it 'I Don't Love You' and it's true I don't love her. Why should I? She doesn't love me so why should I be expected to love her?
-Bye I guess.

Well it seems like there's some pretty shady business going on here. Gerard isn't back, might as well read the first page too.

Please don't read this I beg you,
Mikey if it's you, I know you don't like me, but if you read this it won't end well, and that' not a threat it's a given.
Donna you have no right to know my feelings and you know why.
Jerry you can read this, it's only natural that you try to know what the effect of your actions are.

Still not back. Okay next page. No guilt yet, that's surprising

Notes

Gosh Frank! Total invasion of privacy. Yay new chapter, I'm not sure how this is going, so comment to let me know where I stand. Till then goodbye my lovelies