So Long, Not Goodnight

Chapter Twenty Eight

Smoke plumed and tapered from his mouth as Frank flicked the ash off of his cigarette into the grass below the small porch. "My parents were called to witness my testimony since I was still a minor, so they found out everything down to the last detail about me and Bobby. After the trial and, thankfully, conviction, they told me that I wasn't welcome in their house. They let me take a few things with me, and as I left the house, I noticed that any picture of me in the vicinity were gone. Like I never existed.

"I didn't know where to go, so I found sanctuary at Saint Mary of the Suffering. The priest gave me a job tidying the chapel and gave me food and shelter. I found the small space in the mausoleum and anything I found from dumpsters or on curbs for trash pickup made it's way there. My own space. It felt right being around the dead, like I was among friends."

Frank stubbed the cigarette out on the wooden railing, a black circle in the grain was left behind. Gerard still held his between his fingers, his eyes damp and dripping. "But what about Jamia?"

Splaying his arms out, feeling the splintering and unfinished wood drag against his palms, Frank inhaled deeply, raggedly breathing. He picked at the wood, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, his jaw rattling as fresh tears fell onto the banister and also collected in the corners of his mouth. "I... I tried to find her after everything. I didn't give a fuck what her dad had said. I was already dead. One day, I tried to sneak in through her bedroom window, but saw a moving truck outside and people taking things out and I figured that her parents didn't want her here anymore, when their neighbor found me staring on the sidewalk. They asked me how I knew the family and I said that their daughter is my best friend. They buried their mouth into their fist and asked me if I heard about what happened..."

Frank remembered the exact moment like it was on tape and secreted inside his head. "When I told them no, they..." He tried to compose himself, but failed as sloppy cries bled out of him, his eyes, and his nose. "They told me that they found her in a slump in the bathroom, her throat cut clean through to bone, and that... That she was still gripping, in death, an ultrasound and a picture of her... Her boyfriend..."

His hands pressed against his eye sockets as he sobbed and sobbed wishing that he could take her place. It was his fault that she was pregnant, it was his fault that she was assaulted, it was his fault that she was so depressed, it was his fault that she died. He saw her clearly in his mind, the wide brim of her smile, the concern in her eyes as she held him vomiting up his potential overdose, the small groove in her neck that fluttered with pleasure as they were together. Her words promising that she would never leave him, that she loved him, but she broke that promise. She was gone and could never come back. Bobby had came back to him and promised his love before he too was gone, taken. It was only he that made it, but only to feel like he was in purgatory.

Warm, bony arms circled his neck, a gesture that he wasn't as alone as he used to be and as he continued to feel. The cotton of Gerard's shirt became completely saturated as Frank broke down with his confession. He had never told anyone anything for so long because there wasn't anyone close enough to care. Gerard's long fingers rubbed back and forth over the side of his head as Frank felt like there was nothing more to purge. "You know, Frankie," Gerard's voice trembled, trying to flatten. "We're both broken, but maybe we can put our pieces together to create something better. Something crooked and lopsided and a little off, but still complete."

Frank pulled his face up, the cold air of the evening soothing in his lungs, finding a small and sullen smile pulling at a corner of his mouth. "I'd love that, Gee," Frank tried to calm his hitching breaths. "I'm so thankful to have you in my life. You make me feel like there's still something to live for."

"Thank you for trusting me with your past," Gerard reached out, squeezing Frank's hand into his. "Like you did with mine."

"Oh shit!" Frank pulled Gerard back into the house, making his way to the foyer and sliding his feet into his sneakers.