The World Never Wanted Me •Frerard•

Thirteen: Words I Thought I'd Choke on

1k reADS IM DEAD

Seriously though, thanks. It wouldn't have been possible without my lord and saviour Satan.

And you guys I guess.

Anyway, here's another chapter for you.

------------

Chapter Thirteen

Frank stared at me, his eyes going from relaxed to pure shock in record time. I didn't know what to do, or what I had done, but it was too late to take it back.

Besides, I didn't really want to take it back. It honestly felt relieving to admit it.

"You think you what?" Frank said quietly. "If you're just fucking around..."

"I'm not," I said, shifting closer to him. He looked down at me, his eyes still extremely wide.

"I think I love you too," he said.

Even though I'd kind of gotten the sense that that was the case, I had never heard Frank say that. He leaned over and kissed my cheek, as if we were in Pre-K again.

I tried to look away from his eyes, but they were so bright and...warm. I soon felt myself getting tired, and though I attempted to hold it back, released a huge yawn. Frank laughed quietly and moved my hair out of my face.

"You should probably take a nap. I'll stay awake for wen Brendon gets here."

I looked over at the clock, which read 12:47.

"He won't be here until five," I said. "You can stay awake if you want to though."

He laughed. "Well, I should probably try to clean up a little," he said as he gestured to his room which much resembled the aftermath of a tornado.

I nodded and smiled, leaning back on the plush pillows. "G'night."

He laughed. "Yeah, night Gee."

I felt my eyes droop and close. Then I was dreaming.

"Hey Frankie, can we go to your room? I wanna look at your comics!" The young, dark haired boy yelled in his shrill, adolescent voice.

Frank rubbed the back of his neck hesitantly. "I don't know, my mommy doesn't like it when I take you up there."

"Oh. Do you?" Gerard asked timidly.

"Yeah, it's really cool being friends with you Gee!" Frank exclaimed, trying desperately to cheer up his friend.

"I thought we were getting married," Gerard said, his sorrowful expression remaining plastered on his small, chubby face.

Frank rubbed his cheek lightly, his gaze drifting, making him look much older than five. "Mommy...said no."

"Well then I hate your mommy!" Gerard yelled as loud as he could. Marrying Frank was all he could think about. Who cares if Frank's mommy didn't want them to? She doesn't have to go.

Frank trembled, tears rolling down his cheeks. "Me too! It hurts, it hurts," Frank muttered, a stream of tears flowing from his small, hazel eyes.

"I know! Why does it have to?" Gerard enquired, his voice trailing off towards the end of the question.

I observed the whole scene, the memories flowing back. They couldn't see me, but I could see them. I remembered it, and I remembered how much it hurt. I then realized what Frank meant by "it hurts."

His mother did these horrible things to him, even at this age? How can people defend religion when this the kind of things it brings upon the world?