My Only (A Frerard Fanfiction)

I washed off the shiny piece of destructive metal, completely mesmerized as the sticky red liquid made its way down the drain of my sink, faded stains covering the sides. After cleaning up my giant mess and covering up what I could, I proceeded to check my alarm clock, which displayed the time of 5:30 A.M. To the left, a picture frame held off one of my favorite pieces of work that I had created in the recent past. The contents were of a man and a women, nicely dressed and facing each other. Their eyes were closed shut with splotches of red upon their foreheads, as if the result of a terrible car crash and their heads hitting the windshield in the heat of the collision, leaving the gruesome end to the two. The girl's face, pale like sakuras starting to bloom, displayed utter sorrow and regret, as if hoping to finish whatever she was going to do. The man however, dressed in a suit with a bit of the collar showing, seemed mad, almost like he were praying for sweet vengeance on the ones who brought him to such a lowly demise. This was my most prized piece indeed, with such time and effort put into it to make such a symbolic piece. Yet as I stared at it, reinterpreting each beautiful stroke of a brush, something felt off within me. A presence seemed to loom behind me, threatening to bring me back to a past I wanted to escape and never see again- yet it was simply impossible, since all that could be behind me was a wall. My mind began to spread into disarray, everything within my head getting louder, and coming to a screeching halt as my mind slowly surfaced a memory of a simple sentence, scratchy and in a low tone as if already a piece of a song:

'Can you... Hear me...?
My eyes widened almost instinctively, and tears began to swell at the corners of them, burning the skin it touched.
"Grandma.. Can you hear me?"
A small woman sat in a hospital bed, small and white as the sheets that lay on top of her. Her eyes were distant, looking into a dimension that no one else could see. No one but her could lay eyes on it, her mind preparing to enter. To her left, a scrawny boy sat in a hospital chair next to the bed, holding her hand as his shook.Tears glittered down his cheeks like a comet across the night sky, spilling from galaxies of white and hazel, puffy as if made of marshmallow.
"Gerard, is that you, dear? A-are you... are you near me?" Her voice was quiet, as if she was still listening to other noises. The boy, Gerard, looked down, squeezing her hand. Choked sobs emerged from his throat as his grip became stronger, pleading and willing her to stay with him- to not leave him in such a desperate state. She wanted to stay, but she knew her time was running out of the hourglass, each grain of sand pulling her further away from him.
"Y-yes Grandma," he cried, not holding back all the pain he felt for her, "it's me, Gerard..."
I shook my head quickly, making the memory leave my own mind. Something about the time of the memory, it's contents,and my current situation- I didn't need to remember it right now. Unlike at that moment, I didn't need to lose all control and composure I had.. not like I did in front of her. I needed to stay calm, or else I'd have another episode.
My mind strayed from that specific moment, to all the bad thoughts that had swam through my head on that very day. Why couldn't I have been in her place, taking the hit for her? I mean, there wold've been many more benefits to this than me staying in her place. My mother and father wouldn't have been so upset to the point where they had a hard time getting up. They loved me, sure, but they adored my grandmother. Mikey wouldn't be teased just because he happened to be related to me, the failure. Even though he's such a lovely person, people shunned him because he was spawned into existence next to me. Shunned, bullied- It's all my fault.
Thinking about it now, I remember how school was more than an absolute hell-hole for the two of us. They pushed me against lockers or walls where I'd dwell too long, telling me how I'm trash that should've been burned. They would roll up my sleeves, disappointed to see there wasn't a single new cut for them to tease me about and reopen. They would throw me in bathrooms- sometimes the girl's bathroom- and tell met slice at my skin once again like the "me fag" I am. Sure, I would cut occasionally, or I would have crushes on the really cute guys who would catch my attention. Was there really a problem with my preferences in people or my own body? I definitely didn't think so, but that, once again, made me successfully the oddball of the groups. Mikey had it a bit better, though it still hurt to watch him get shoved around and told to go cry himself a well and drown in it. I wanted to help him, but he insisted that he was fine. I had my suspicions he wasn't as ''fine'' as he claimed, but I let it slide, since I did the same thing to a greater extent.
I managed to pull out my favorite black pair of skinny jeans out of the giant pile of clothes that had been washed, but never put up. I especially liked the little spikes that lined the pockets with precision. A black Iron Maiden shirt, worn to the point of barely being able to make out the logo draped quite nicely over my torso, scarred and burned. Not really choosy about my shoes (I only had like a ton of Converses which had all become quite dirty over the years), I slipped on my Converses with silver sharpie doodles all over it. They ranged from meaningless little spiral or triangular patterns to much more complex designs of skulls or little band icons. With my outfit complete, I was able to leave the room without looking like a giant mess. Thank god for that, since I would never want Mikey to see what I had hid from him for so long- I knew all too well he wouldn't take it all that well.

After all, I mean... He was pretty upset when I had stopped talking to him or our parents.
Yes, it had been quite awhile since I had uttered a single word to anyone I knew, let alone to a total stranger. After everything that had happened to me over the course of the past few years, I hadn't spoken- I couldn't. It was like a blockage in my throat that made me unable to speak out to anyone. So, to put that into perspective, the fact that I had actually spoke- and it was someone's name who I didn't even know was quite startling, to say the very least. My own voice, which I had slowly grown unaccustomed to, had grown weak and scratchy, shaking even when I was sure I knew what I meant to say. My first instinct was to run to my brother, Mikey, with open arms and talk to him. I hadn't in so long, and I needed to tell him.
It was my top priority.
After dashing madly out of my room to go to his, I found myself standing in front of his door with hesitance greeting me and shaking my hand. I wasn't sure I should do this. He was probably still sleeping, and I'd be interrupting that. He needs his sleep. But I knew he'd be shocked if I could get the words out of my mouth. So, without a second thought, I opened the door, not caring about the amount of noise it made. A groan emitted from the bed that he claimed as his own, and the nightstand lamp which had been written all over with Sharpie- or at least, the lampshade was- turned on, filling the room with the dim light it had to offer. Mikey's head came up off a pillow while he yawned loudly, rubbing his eyes.
"Wha... Gerard..? You never come out of your room at this time of day.. and especially not into my room. Hell.. you avoid coming out unless you absolutely have to. What's up?" His tired, yet clearly worried eyes scanned me for visible injuries or different outer appearances. Lucky for him, I had hidden everything. But what I didn't hide from him was a warm embrace he deserved. Rendering him practically helpless, he slipped his arms around me.
"Gerard...?" He asked nervously, as if I would shatter. Maybe I would. But I had to get the words out. I just had to have them crawl out my throat, like all the demons within me attempted to do everyday.
"... M....Mikey... I.. Oh god, Mikey..." My voice trembled with each simple word, struggling against each syllable to continue. Even though I hadn't spoken in forever to him, I was still fighting against everything to talk to him.. "I.. I missed you..." I buried my face in his chest, still shaking as my own mind tried to comprehend that I had successfully spoke to another human being.
"G-Gerard... Did you just... I-I mean... Oh my god.." He managed to respond, leaving us to sit in the silence we created together. Unsure of what to do, we just held the embrace, knowing that this was going to be one hell of a day.
After all, school transfers are no fun, are they?

Notes