The Aftermath Of Death

The bar was loud and messy and Frank seemed to float around aimlessly drinking casually and bopping his head to the music for around an hour before he noticed Rays curls bouncing up and down as he talked enthusiastically to this girl. She was smiling up at him and her eyes glowed with happiness. Christa. She has long brunette hair and was wearing a shirt dress which skimmed her knees and heeled boots. Ray talked about her to Frank a couple of times.

He liked her and was trying desperately to move things in their relationship, but was now scared he was trapped in the dreaded 'friend zone'. But Frank could see from the way her eyes lit up when he spoke and the happiness which seemed to emit from her that she felt the same way. Because Ray was the best guy Frank had ever met and she really couldn't do any better because no one could do better than Ray.

Ray caught sight of Frank from across the bar and motioned him over. Frank stumbled slightly and could feel the alcohol course through him. He loved that feeling. Like everything was dulled and the alcohol was curling around his every movement. Because it wasn't an addiction. Frank kept telling himself that. He could stop. He could not get drunk and he had a choice in this. He just wanted it and you have to indulge sometimes. But he could stop. He was sure.

Ray smiled brightly pulling Frank into a bear hug whilst Christa smiled up at them both whilst she introduced herself Frank couldn't make out what she was saying. But that didn't matter because he already new everything about her. She was all Ray talked about.

'You are all Ray talks about.' Frank slurred whilst he was sitting at the bar with her. The music had dulled slightly. Either that or franks hearing had gotten use to it, like how his eyes would adjust to the darkness of his bedroom as he stared at the walls aimlessly on one of his sleepless nights. She was sitting swinging left and right on a spiny chair and smiling at Frank as he spoke like a high speed train about him and music and Ray. She smiled at his comment and if it wasn't for the dim lighting in the bar he would have saw how the blush creeped onto her cheeks.

'I think that he just talks a lot.' She said quickly. Frank nodded agreeing with her. He tipped the rest of his drink down his throat and gestured for another. 'Someone wants to get drunk tonight.' Frank smiled as he began to sip his fresh drink.
'The night is no longer young and I can still feel everything.' He said quietly. She didn't hear him. 'I can still feel everything.' He mumbled into his drink.

'Do you know what?' She said causing Frank to tip his head to make eye contact with her. 'I have a friend who would be perfect for you.' Frank raised an eyebrow and straining slightly to hear her. 'Yeah, I'm not really close to her, but she's cool and very similar to you. Actually she should be here...' Frank grabbed Christa's arm as she was about to turn to scan the club.

'Christa?' He said smiling up at her she made eye contact and smiled. 'I'm gay honey.' She giggled slightly jumping off the seat. She shook her head and shooting Frank an apologetic look before moving across the room to a group of girls.

Frank turned to scan the room when he caught sight of them. Black hair. Little nose. Hips swaying slightly to the music. Frank turned erratically and pulled his hood up so that she didn't see him. Lindsey. Of course she would be here. Frank ordered another drink and sipped it whilst he sank further into his seat and tried to hide his face from Lindsey she was just a few seats away. Suddenly Frank heard Christa's voice again.

Christa moved up to her and draped her arm around her friend. 'Linds! Oh my god! I was just telling my friend about you. He's gay, but I think you guys would get on like a house of fire.' She turned around to where Frank was sitting to find an empty glass and a vacant stool. 'Oh. I guess he left.' She sighed. Lindsey shrugged pulling her friend onto the dance floor and giggling.

Frank was leant up against the entrance to the bar smoking methodically feeling the alcohol pump through his blood. He started to think about going back into to see Ray when Ray pushed open the door and smiled down at him. They stood in a comfortable silence while the smoked half of Franks cigarettes to the stub.

This reminded Frank of when Ray and him first met. It was a rough day. Franks first proper day in a new job in this fairly new city. He was introduced to Rays band as they smoked cigarettes and drank coke until they had set up an entire plan for there next year as a band. They broke Frank in. They were his first band and they did well. They didn't break records or get a best selling album, but they were known and they were growing everyday. Frank loved that band more than anything. Well....

'She likes you you know.' Frank said to Ray after a long time. Ray nodded and smiled shyly down at his shoes. He was obviously drunk, maybe not as drunk as Frank, but very drunk.

'I hope so.' Ray said swaying slightly. You could only tell he was tipsy from the way his hair moved. 'I think I love her.' Ray said staring at Frank with saucer eyes and a dead serious stare.

'Really?' Frank whispered as if Christa had supersonic hearing and was listening in on their conversation. Ray nodded looking frightened.
'I think so. She's great and yeah. But I don't wanna talk about it just now.' Ray said placing his head in his hands as if his brain was about to spill out of it. Frank nodded slightly but could feel his eyes slip close and open again as he started to feel drowsy.

'Listen, man.' Frank slurred. 'I think I should go. I'm really drunk and very tired.' Ray nodded laughing slightly at Franks drunken state.
He stumbled out onto the street giggling as Ray moved behind him and placing his hand on his back to stable himself. Frank smiled behind him putting his hand up trying to hail a taxi. Ray suddenly stumbled forward crashing Frank to move as well as a group of people drunkingly left the the club laughing chattering noisily. The group of people quickly dispersed into the dark street a few straying behind. One figure was still looming in the doorway smoking Frank couldn't see who it was but didn't really care. All he cared for was getting out of the cold and into a taxi. Suddenly a taxi swerved next to Frank and stopped. He turned and wrapped his arms around Ray.

'Thanks for inviting me man.' He slurred. Ray smiled down at him and tapped him on the head.

'No problemo midget. Get home safe.' He said moving back into the club and past the looming figure who had finished their smoke and was just hovering.

'Kk Fro Fro!' Frank giggled opening the door and sliding into the taxi muttering his address and pressing his face to the glass. The cold glass latched onto his skin and his red, warm and alcohol filled cheeks began to cool against the glass. He hummed slightly waiting for the taxi to move and letting his eyes slip close. But before the taxi could drive away the looming figure followed Franks movements and slid into the taxi as well. Frank glanced up quickly in shock. Peeling his skin from the glass and peering upwards towards the figure. He was going to tell the dude to fuck off before he noticed who it was.

'No.' Frank chocked out. Shaking his head and blinking furiously. The driver looked in the mirror at the two of them and asked Frank if he was okay. All Frank could do was nod calmly and stare out the window. The driver began to make his way through the darkened streets. His radio buzzed and he whistled along. Frank had his eyes fixed on the moving traffic. Not even acknowledging the person who loomed beside him giving him questioning eyes.

'Are you just gonna pretend you can't see me?' Gerard said loudly making Frank cringe and move more into the chair. 'Act like a don't exist?' He shouted the last word. Frank was shaking and trying not to draw attention to himself. He looked out the window still trying to calm his forever beating mind.

'You're pathetic.' Gerard spat pushing himself closer to Frank to try and consume all of his space. 'I'm right here. You can see me, I know you can.' Frank inhaled deeply. He could smell him. Gerard was there he was right there his heat as he pressed himself closer to Frank. His smell as Frank breathed in the air in the cab. His breath against Franks cheek as he got closer. His voice screeching through Franks mind and wrapping itself around him. Suffocating him as he choked for air.

'Not real.' He muttered to himself trying to push Gerard out of his mind. Trying to rid every memory of him in that moment. 'Never real.' He said even quieter.

'I am real! I am right here! FRANK!' He was so close to him now. If Frank turned his head even slightly he could kiss him. He wasn't going to though. He was going to continue looking out of the window and watching as the lights blurred from the rapid speed of traffic. 'You can see me.' Gerard voice broke at that point and he could hear the tears in his eyes and he could sense the emotion in his words. He could feel his sadness emit and resonate from every pore.

Suddenly the cab stopped and Frank was on auto pilot. Thanking the driver and handing over the money and walking up to his apartment building. The figure followed him. Shouting at him.

'I am real.....'

'He isn't there......'

'You can see me....

'He's dead.....'

'Look at me......'

'Don't look......'

'Frankie......'

'Please...'

'Baby......'He followed him up the stair case shouting at him as Frank muttered calming words to himself to keep the panic rising in him at bay.

'Not there...'

'See me.....'

'Never there....'

'Stop pretending you can't see me......'

'Dead!'

'Frank!'

'Gerard.' He had turned around to face him. Both breathing heavily and standing outside his apartment door. Frank was swaying slightly from the alcohol and Gerard was shaking with anticipation and anger. He moved closer placing his hand on the smaller mans cheek. Frank flinched away. 'Please.' Frank begged him to go and leave him to rot away in peace. Gerard turned his face so they were only inches away from each other.

'Look me in the eyes.' He said his breath ticking Franks skin and making him shiver. His eyelashes fluttered as me moved his gaze towards Gerard's green eyes. He smiled and laughed in relief. Frank smiled too. Hesitantly Gerard pushed his lips onto Franks. He moved desperately pushing Frank against the door their lips moving in sync as Frank grasped at Gerard leather jacket trying to hold himself up. Gerard opening his mouth letting Frank gain access and taste him. The smoke, the drink and just him. Gerard pushed himself off of Frank. Both were breathing heavily. Frank instantly needed to feel him again. He craved it after so long without his touch. He moved closer trying to kiss him but Gerard pushed him back smirking.

A second is a lot of time in the right perspective. There are one thousand milliseconds in one second. It's only takes thirteen milliseconds for your brain to recognise an image and it takes 300 to blink. So really you can do a lot in a second if it is planned correctly.
It only takes a second to break a person. It only takes a second to destroy someone's heart and it only takes a second to give someone the dreaded bad news. However it takes much more to mend a broken heart and to trust again. And it takes even longer to grieve.
Frank had spent 10 years grieving and all of that work was gone in a second. Suddenly he was 19 again and he was hearing about the boy who was found dead in the local forest. The man with the black hair and pale skin. The man who people thought was murdered. The man who was revealed to be Gerard Way.

Gerard Way died. He died 10 years ago on that forest floor. He swallowed every pill he could find and downed them with a bottle of liquor and he died. He even cut his wrist for good measure. He was desperate to die.

Then why was he there. Why was he standing in front of Frank and why could Frank taste him on his lips.

'You aren't real.' Frank muttered a small tear running down his face and staining his red cheeks. 'You're dead. He's dead.' He pushed himself away from Gerard and moved through the small apartment to the bathroom. 'Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.' He kept repeating the word over and over again until he reached the sink. His reflection bore into him and he could see Gerard standing behind him. 'How do I make this stop.' Frank said turning to him and looking up with pleading eyes. 'I am addicted to it. Seeing you and I don't think I can take it anymore and you see this isn't good for me so give me an answer and I'll....' Frank was cut short.

'Kill yourself.' The figure mumbled. It was no longer Gerard. Because he would never ask Frank to do this. He would never ask him to kill himself because he loved Frank. He loved him.

'You loved me.' Frank spat. Unable to control the anger rising from him and pushing his body to the limit. 'I loved you and I cared. You wouldn't ask this of me. Never.' He muttered staring down at his hands. Somewhere along the lines of this conversation he had picked up a blade. 'Never.' His hands shook. The adrenaline and alcohol pushed against each other aiding his mind to wobble and his vision to blur as he had a battle with his inner thoughts. Because that's all the figure was...he was franks thoughts being projected into a form which could provoke him.

'I want to be with you Frankie. You want to be with me. So you have to die. Don't you understand. You deserve to die.' Gerard said sweetly guiding Frank's shaking hands to make the incision. The blade felt too familiar to Frank, the cool metal and the burn and sting of the cut. He pulled Franks hand across his skin the blade going deep and leaving a trail of pain and red remains. It had been a long time since Frank had done this. He was still a teen the last time he self harmed. He was addicted to it. Just like he was with cigarettes. But it was more aggressive because he needed it the pain felt good. It felt fucking amazing and he deserved it. He deserved the pain and the stinging of the blade and the scars and the tearing of the skin as it broke.

He needed the pain then just as much as he needed the alcohol now. He needed it all. Because he was addicted to destroying himself. On the inside and on the outside. Both physically and mentally. He wanted to test himself apart and cause mass destruction. Because he deserved it.

Frank had made three cuts across his wrist at this point. The blood seeped out making them a messy blur. Gerard wasn't guiding him anymore just watching him in the mirror as Frank leant again the sink and bled. He was smiling. Looking at him trying to catch his eyes and egging him on. Applauding his self destruction. Gerard was enjoying it as he watched Frank rip himself apart and shred every part of him he had ever had.

A fourth cut.

A fifth.

Sixth.

'You.' Frank muttered as he dropped the blade into the sink and turned holding out his bloody wrist. It was like at that moment he realised. He was doing this too himself. Nobody else. But Gerard. The man standing over him whispering in his ear "You deserve it. Do it. Now. Quicker.' But Gerard wasn't 'Gerard' the man he loved with all his heart. The man who kissed him like he was providing him with some antidote for a lethal poison. The man who he would curl up beside during sleepless nights in the summer. The man who killed himself when the voices got too much. The man who loved him like no other had ever and would ever. That wasn't who was taunting him and pushing him close to the edge. No that was his subconscious. Producing something to push him more and making him do this to himself because he wanted it. He needed it. He had to fight against it. He had to push back...

'You did Did this. You are making me.' The tears fell from his cheek and mingled with the blood seeping from his cuts. Gerard looked down at the cuts smiling. He placed his thumb on them squeezing down causing them to sting even more. The pain. It was agonising. Frank just stared into the figures eyes, that's what he would call it because it wasn't Gerard it only looked like him, it looked back gritting its teeth as it pushed further. Frank could feel the alcohol drain from him as he stared at his wrists.

'You did this. It's all your fault.'

'Please stop. I..'

'Cutting your wrists how cliché.'

'No, you did this. I don't want to hurt anymore.'

'You're so pathetic, so desperate for attention.'

'Don't say that. You don't mean it.'

'This is why I never loved you. No one will ever love you...because your worthless. Your attention seeking. Your ugly and pathetic and lonely...'

'STOP!' suddenly he was alone. He looked up and around the small bathroom. Gerard wasn't there. He never was because Frank was alone and Gerard was dead and....

Frank collapsed onto the ground and leant his head against the door breathing heavily and sobbing lightly as the blood from his wrist dropped lazily onto the white tiled flooring. His body wouldn't be able to take much more. The alcohol. The cuts. The starvation. The sleepless nights.

One day Frank Iero would die from what his mind was doing to him. Frank just hoped that day would come sooner rather than later.

Notes

Erm. I didn't know if I was going to talk about this or not but.
This chapter it triggered me when writing it. I've been going through a tough time of late and yeah. I relapsed. Usually I'm not triggered by anything I've written and been in a play about self harm and wasn't triggered. I don't know what's different this time but...
I just wanted to warn you guys that I might not update this for a while. I'm scared to even read it over for mistakes or even think about it right now so continuing might take me a while. I will update don't worry. And who knows maybe by next week I would've had some courage or inspiration, but at the moment I'm not in the right frame of mind.
Leave your comments and stick around.

-C