Fantastic Bastards in Monroeville (Frerard)

I swear, the meals here get worse as time goes by. Today it’s fried cod that’s soaked in grease, soggy sauteed mushrooms, and what appears to be coleslaw. I guess the only appealing thing on the tray is the little blueberry pie that’s in a tin foil pan. How cute. I stared down at my food, deliberating whether or not I should at least eat the pie. It’s pie for god’s sake. I know pie isn’t the most healthiest thing in the world, especially for a landwhale like me, but holy shit am I starving. I felt my stomach growl loudly, begging me to at least feed it a morsel of food. I don’t think I’m gonna eat the pie, though. As small as it is, it’s likely got too much sugar and carbs, which is every fat person’s worst enemy when it comes to dieting. I can see Frank sitting at his table, wolfing his down like there’s no tomorrow. Maybe I can give mine to him. I’m sure he’d like that. But who in the hell would take pie from a stranger? You never know what’s inside of it, whether it be someone’s spit or boogers, or even their own fecal matter or jizz. No. It’s a bad idea. I know I’d get strange looks if I were to--
“Hey there!” a voice called out next to me. Startled, I jumped and turned around to find who in the hell would dare to bug me--
Wait a minute...is it really him? Is Frank, the boy with forest hazel eyes with worlds inside them, really sitting next to me? No. This can’t be real. He couldn’t be possibly be sitting next to a miserable fuck like me. I looked again, seeing him from head to toe in person right next to me. He really is, and...he’s smiling at me? Is this for real?
“You should really eat, y’know,” Frank pointed to my food, looking at me with concern in his eyes. “You haven’t eaten anything all day, have you? You’re so thin!”
Oh, Frank. You must be blind! How in the hell am I thin? I’m a fucking blimp! I strongly suggest you get those pretty eyes of yours checked.
“I strongly suggest you eat. If you don’t...you don’t wanna know what they’ll do to you,” Frank frowned, seeing me not even pick up my fork to eat anything. He sighed deeply before he looked back up at me, pointing to my pie. “Can I eat that?”
I looked at him, my mind processing what he just asked me. Of course he can have it. He deserves it more than I do. I nodded my head yes, and Frank snatched the pie off my plate, scarfing it down. It wasn’t long before he finished it, licking up all the crumbs on the small tin foil plate. He smiled, bits of blueberry and crumbs all over his lips. I smiled back, my eyes being blessed with that gorgeous grin. I know I said I always hated smiling, but when Frank smiles, I feel something warm inside of me; something genuine, unlike the fake smiles I see every day all around me in this hell. Frank’s smile is genuine, full of joy despite the sickness in his head. It’s genuine because despite the darkness deep inside him, he can still find a sliver of happiness, and it can be something as simple as enjoying a dessert. He smiles because it comes from his heart, and it’s not forced. That is why I smiled back. When he’s happy, so am I.
“You know, Gerard...you should smile more,” Frank said, eyeing me with those otherworldly hazel eyes of his. “You’ve got a pretty smile. Why don’t you smile at all? Why don’t you talk, either?”
Oh my god...did he really just say all that? My god, he did. I kept my head down, probably now blushing like an idiot. I felt my heart skip a beat in my chest, making it constrict. If only he knew the reason why I don’t smile or talk. I’m sure he’d understand if I ever told him, even though I know in the back of mind that will never happen. I really do wanna speak to him, but my own lips won’t let me. He’d hate my voice. He’d hate to hear me talking to him, and that’s why I’m gonna stay quiet. Lindsey hated it when I spoke, and I’m sure Frank is no different.
“Well...I know you’re not gonna talk, but...that’s okay,” Frank shrugged, still smiling at me. “I’ll talk to you. You look like you need a friend. I wanna ask something, if that’s okay,”
I turned to Frank, hoping to god I’m still not blushing. I’m stunned that I haven’t scared him off. How can he talk to me when he knows I’m not gonna say anything? It’s the equivalent of talking to a brick wall...only this brick wall is fat and doesn’t really wanna live anymore.
“Well, Gerard...I wanted to know if...um…,” Frank looked down shyly. “If...well, you wanted to share your room with me? Dr. Haycraft told me that you have a spare bed, if I’m not mistaken,”
I felt my eyes widen, as well as the hairs on my neck rise. What the hell did Frank just ask me? Does he really wanna share a room with me? He wants to be roommates with me? Holy shit, I must be dreaming. I have to be. None of this can be real. I know I’ll be waking up in my bed soon, right?
“If you don’t wanna share your room...I understand,” Frank continued. His eyes waited for me to answer as I just stood there, unsure what to do. I’d love to share a room with him...but will that mean I have to endure more of his madness, like what happened last night? Am I willing to put myself through that? You know what? Yes, I am. He needs someone. He needs a friend. He needs to be reminded he’s not alone in whatever nightmare is taking place in his head. I nodded my head yes, graciously accepting his offer. The smile on Frank’s face grew wider, his eyes bright and full of utter joy.
“Yay!” Frank stood up from his seat, doing what I can assume is a happy dance, as awkward as it is. “No more spiders! No more spiders for me! Thank you, Gerard! Thank you!”
I felt myself jump back a little as Frank wrapped his arms around me, hugging me tightly. Despite my body being full of extra fat, I surprisingly felt suffocated and crushed in Frank’s embrace. I guess he just gives really strong hugs. Returning the favor, I hugged him back, loving every second of this. I could hold him for all eternity, taking all the vulnerability away from him.
“I’ll go talk to Dr. Haycraft and let her know I found a roommate!” Frank exclaimed, letting go of me. “Oh boy, this is so exciting! I can’t wait!” he ran off, leaving me all alone with my tray. I stared down at it, noticing the empty foil plate Frank left. I picked it up, examining it’s details. I could use this, I thought to myself. Maybe make some origami out of it, just for the hell of it. I’ve always been fond of making art out of objects, whether it be paper or random things I find on the floor, like a paperclip. I know I’ll make something special out of this, whatever it might be. I smiled as I put the mini pie pan in the pocket of my gown, knowing that whenever I look at it, it’ll remind me of my new roommate.

_ _ _
After Frank got all his stuff settled into my room, visiting hours came around. In the day room, family members and friends (or, at least, the people that give a shit) gathered to visit their sons, daughters, sisters, brothers, friends, or whatever other relation these people have with each other. I frowned when I saw Frankie all alone, sitting at the couch, visiting no one but the voices he hears in his head. I’d visit Frank everyday. I wonder if he’d to the same for me?
“Gerard,” I heard someone call my name. I turned around to find a familiar face, one that a part of me knew I’d be seeing. It’s Mikey, smiling and waving at me with a brown grocery bag wrapped in his arm. “Hey, bro. Good to see you. I brought you some clothes from home,”
I should have known that Mikey would come and visit me. I really, really should have known better. Of course my brother that spared me is gonna come see me. He visited me everyday when I was in the hospital. I don’t know if I can afford to face him at this time; not after what he did to me. I kept my head down as I sat at the table, wishing he would just go away. I can’t tell him that, though. I can’t speak. Mikey sat down across from me, folding his hands as he looked at me, with my eyes away from him. He’s not gonna get far with talking to me. Not a chance. At least he brought me some clothes to wear so I’m not stuck in this itchy gown.
“Good lord, Gerard...you’ve really changed, you know that, right?” he said, rather somberly this time. I guess it finally occurred to him how much of a mess I am. “You’ve gotten...thinner. Much thinner than before. You were already skinny beforehand,”
No. That’s not a reason why I’m a mess. I’m a mess for the opposite reason. I’m fucking fat, and Lindsey agreed. I’m losing weight because I’m supposed to, plus the food here is terrible.
“Have you been getting enough to eat, Gee? We’re all really worried about, um...your weight,”
I really, really wish I can say something. I really wish that I can tell Mikey the truth, but I can’t. I’d tell them the truth about why I’m not eating; it’s because the food here is barely edible, and I need to starve myself. I’m only trying to help myself. And yes, Mikey and my parents should be worried about me. I’m just too fucking fat.
“You really should eat some more, Gerard. If you don’t...you’re never gonna get better,” Mikey frowned. “Have you been going to therapy at least? Have you been talking? Are you making any friends?”
Ugh. Does it really look I’ve been talking? No. I haven’t, and I won’t. And yes, I have been going to therapy, but that’s only for one reason--Frank is there. He’s the only thing about therapy I look forward to. He’s the only thing in this godforsaken place that puts a fucking smile on my face. Did you know he’s also my new roommate now, too? So yes, you could say I’m making friends, Mikey. Do I get a gold star for that?
“Come on, Gee,” Mikey sighed. He reached across the table and grabbed one of my hands, folding it in his. When he touched me, I felt something deep inside of me, like a pang in my chest. I can see in his eyes that he really, really wants to talk to me, and that he wants me to finally open my mouth. “You’ve gotta talk to me, bro. I miss you. Mom and dad miss you. I know it doesn’t seem like they do, but...trust me, they do, Gerard. Please, Gerard...please come back to us,”
What are you talking about? Your brother is right here right in front of you. Your ugly, fat, pathetic excuse of an older brother is sitting right in front of you right now, Mikey. How can you miss me when I’m right here? I wouldn’t miss me at all.
“Gerard…,” Mikey looked down at his hands that are holding mine. “I know you’ve changed a lot. I know you’re not the same person you were before when you were...you know, well. You need to get better. You need help,”
No, Mikey. I’m not gonna change. This is who I am. Accept it or leave it. The only way I will change is that I will be skinny, and I will be dead when I finally get out of this place. There’s no way in hell I’ll let myself die bloated. The Gerard you knew before is dead...and this one in front of you was close to it, but you stopped him and sent him here.
Mikey stood up from his chair, letting go of my hand. He had to go. Visiting hours are almost over, since he got here late. What’s the point of him staying anyway, when I’m not talking? How is he really willing to waste his time with someone he knows is not gonna speak? He walked across the table over to me where I sat, his tall and slender body towering over mine. That was when he bent down a bit and hugged me, his arms wrapped around my body that’s curled up in a ball in the chair. He hugged me so tightly that I swear he’s so close to breaking my spine. I also swear that through the quietness of the room, I can hear him cry and sniffle...but that could just be me.
“I gotta go, Gee,” he finally said after what seemed like hours of silence. “You be good for me, okay? Keep going to therapy...and do what your doctor tells you. Take your medication, and make some friends too, alright?”
Mikey waved one last time before he left the dining room and walked down the hall to leave this place, leaving me all alone. I looked up and watched as he walked down those front doors, leading him down the elevator. I waved as he walked further away from me, his head down and away from me. Bye, brother. I turned back and noticed the brown paper bag he left on the table for me. I went and examined it’s contents, pulling out a few t-shirts and sweaters, as well as pants, underwear, socks, laceless tennis shoes, and...something else. The thing that’s not in my hand is not a piece of clothing. It’s something much different. It’s what looks to be like a piece of paper…
No. It’s a photograph. It’s me and Mikey, the both of us smiling. I held it with both hands, looking closely at the picture. We looked so happy, like we didn’t have a care in the world. I was happy, I don’t know what for, but damn it, I was still fucking happy! I’m smiling, unlike how I am now. I used to smile, but don’t no more. Those days are dead and gone...and it’s all because I lost her…
I miss her...I really fucking miss her. I miss telling her I love her, and her doing the same for me. I miss her kisses. I miss her hugs. I miss her smiles. I miss bleeding for her…
No. That’s what I need to do. I need to bleed. That’s why I’m feeling so numb; I need to feel pain. It’s better to feel that than emptiness and shame. I stood up and walked back to my room, setting down the bag on my bed as I pulled out the pie pan from my pocket. I bit and folded and cut it until I made it sharp like a blade, finishing my masterpiece that I’m soon to use to make another on my skin. It’s good that I finally found something that I can injure myself with, since everything here is rounded, including the furniture. I haven’t been able to stab myself with a pen since all the tips are felt-tip, and we are given plastic silverware for meals. Now, my blade is right here in front of me, ready to carve into my skin that’s a canvas for self-mutilation. I can’t be in here for long, though; it’s part of the policy of this hellhole that we are not to be in our rooms til quiet hour or bed. I’ll cut myself a bit, and then cover up my scars with one of the sweaters Mikey gave me. Just as long as I bleed, it’ll all be fine…
I shut my eyes as I brought the faux blade to the skin of my wrist, pressing into it and carving it til I felt my skin puncture, warm blood seeping from the wound. There it is. Blood, running down my arm, pain radiating from it, releasing waves of it throughout my now fulfilled body, my head arched back in ecstasy. If only Lindsey were here to see it. She’d be happy to see it, and indulge in it. I woulda made her proud. If only she were here, though. But she isn’t. I’m bleeding alone. I no longer have anyone to bleed for.
I sighed deeply, cleaning up the blood with my own tongue, feeling the taste of iron in my mouth. I rushed to the bathroom and put pressure on my new wound with a paper towel dampened with cold water until I was sure the blood finally stopped seeping out. With the wound now under control and no longer bleeding, I returned back to my room and undressed from my dirty and itchy white hospital gown and changed into a pair of jeans and a blue sweater. I put my clothes on quickly, avoiding my disgusting body I’m ashamed of looking at. I swear that it’s almost time for therapy, too. I wanna get there quick, not because I’m all that eager to hear everyone talk about their flavor of the day issues, but because I know Frank’s gonna be there...and he’s waiting for me--
“Hey, Gerard!” Frank smiled, opening up my door and making me jump a bit. I turned around, happy to see it’s him. He’s the only one I’ll ever be happy to see here...and he’s now my roommate. I can’t let him see what I just did to myself, though. God knows how he’ll react, knowing how he is. I should be a little scared that I’m now sharing a room with him because of that...but I’m not. I don’t see a man I should fear at all. I see a broken boy that needs someone...and that person just might be me.
Frank ran right into our room, taking a leap and belly-flopping right on his bed. He rolled around and looked up at me, a simple smile still on his face.
“You ready for group, Gerard?” he asked. As I nodded and followed him outta the room, I noticed something when I looked at him--a giant scar on the right side of his head, buried under his mass of messy of black hair. It’s not a scar like the ones on my arms, no...this is much worse. This is a scar like someone cut into his head, like he had some kind of surgery or something. What happened to him? Is this part of the reason why he’s the way he is? I could only wonder, but I know one thing is for certain--something very awful happened to this guy, or maybe even a series of things, god forbid.

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