The Kids From Yesterday (frerard)

Frank POV

        "Fuck. Ow ow fuck." My toe throbs. I bite on my lip to try and mask the pain.

        "Frankie? You okay?" I hear my mom call from down the stairs. Shit.

        "Yeah, I only stubbbed my toe. Didn't see where I was going." I set my book down. My bedroom door was closed and I didn't notice it. Stupid. I adjusted my backpack, inspecting my fingernails. Yup, still gross. My fingerless skeleton gloves don't do much to disguise the dirt under them. I don't really know how the dirt gets there. Mostly from getting my face smashed into the ground all the time.

        Stumbling down the stairs, I bump into my mom.

        "All Ready for school, hon?"

        "I guess," I respond. She ruffles my hair.

        "You'll be okay, you're better than those bullies." She gives me a reassuring smile, as if I don't hear this each day. She knows how much I get beat up. The school always feels the need to call home to report that her dear son Frank Iero was punched at the flag pole again, or beat up underneath the bleachers again. What she doesn't know is why I'm 'picked' on. At 5'1" and with 'emo' hair, bullies come to me like sharks to blood.

        "I know, mom." I kiss her on the cheek goodbye. The front door rattles and practically falls off its hinges when I close it.

        The morning was crisp, cool enough to be able to wear my jeans jacket with a hoodie underneath. My favorite kind of weather. Sweeping back my stringy black hair to put my earbuds in, I notice a dude with the brightest red hair I've ever seen. It's like he's yelling, "notice me!" to people. Ugh and a Nirvana shirt. What a poser.

        Marilyn Manson was screaming in my ears when I walk past the guy. He's just sitting there, with his bag next to him, and a thin jacket. In his hand was a cigarette.

        "Whatya lookin' at, punk?" He sneers at me. Oh great, another person wanting to punch me.

        "Nothin," I kick me shoe into the ground, not keeping eye contact.

        "That's fucking right." To be serious, this kid wasn't much taller than me, and by the looks of it, probably couldn't knock me down.