Guilty Conscience

It Was How I Disappeared

Right now, we were sitting at his dinner table, eating dinner with his dad.

"So, Frank, what do you do in your spare time?"

"I mostly play guitar..."

"Oh, I didn't know you had a guitar! I thought they would've costed too much for you and your family."

Gerard quickly shot his father a glance right after the words came out of his mouth.

"I didn't buy it. I used to work at a shop that repaired them and I was able to get mine because the owner didn't want it anymore."

"Even better! It was a cheap one!"

I became nervous. I thought his father was nice, but this time he seemed to have something against me. Could he possible know about the murder I committed?

"I-It works well, I fixed it."

He snorted. "I'm sure you did."

"Dad, I think we are gonna go up to my room now, k? We're done at the table."

Gerard shot his father another look before lightly grabbing my arm and pulling me to follow him.

"Shouldn't we worry about the dishes?"

Gerard was scowling. "The bastard can get clean them."

"Oh, um, ok.." Gerard was pissed. Like, if you gave him a brick and told him to break it with his bare hands, he would do it, no hesitation. He was that angry.

He opened up the door and quickly shut it, locking it as well.

I shifted on both feet, awkwardly standing in his room.

"I'm sorry...It's just, he sucks sometimes and I don't want you dealing with that. This was supposed to be a fun night."

"It's ok, Gerard."

He looked up at me and he looked sorry. It was a look I didn't like on him.

"Hey...don't be upset. I'm fine, really."

"Alright.."

"What do you say that we watch some movies?" He looked surprised that I had recovered so soon from his father.

"Yeah, that sounds nice."

And so I climbed on his bed, as I had gotten more comfortable with him, and sat at the edge. He relaxed, laying down with his head on his pillow. I was still tense, of course, and I didn't want to move much. It was weird enough being on his bed, I didn't want to lay down and accidently touch him. I'm still sensitive to touch, and I don't feel like getting any sort of attacks at his house.

It was almost 10 pm, and we had gone through 3 movies. I was still on the edge, still tense.

I felt the weight behind me shift, and then a soft touch on my shoulder.

"Why don't you lay down next to me?"

"Oh, I'm just not comfortable." I became even more tense, and began to breathe heavily.

His eyes quickly changed from relaxed to concerned as he realized I was going to have a panic attack.

"Frank, look at me." I didn't. I was too focused on not passing out from the gulps of air I was inhaling.

"Frank!" He took my head in his hands and forced my eyes to meet his. It calmed me down, but not enough.

He had sit up fully now, and was rubbing circles on my back to calm me. That helped more than I thought it would, and I was slowly but surely taking normal breathes.