Save Me From My Self Destruction. (Frerard)

Chapter 4- Replacement Is Toxic Art.

Replacement Is Toxic Art:

It was something about being followed by a stranger that made you feel insecure. Maybe it was because Frank wasn't a complete stranger. I knew his name, and even though I knew nearly nothing about him, he seemed friendly. That still didn't ease the insecure feeling that filled my gut, despite that he seemed to know a lot about me.

As we approached the foster facility Frank's expression seemed to change. It was like he was now realizing that Mikey wasn't joking about where we lived. He looked stunned, in shock, all of that sort of emotion. He didn't say anything though, nothing about the foster facility. All Frank managed to say was "I guess this is the end of our journey, eh?" With a slightly smile on his face, attempting to lighten the mood.

Mikey, as usual, smiled back and waved him goodbye as he walked to the entrance doors. I stayed behind and faced Frank, waiting for him to say what he really wanted. "Go ahead," I urged, "I know you have something on your mind."

Frank's teeth tugged on his bottom lip as he thought of a way to word exactly what he wanted to say. "Gee- I mean, Gerard. I didn't know, I guess...." He didn't know how to finish what he was saying. It was understandable; how do you acknowledge or talk about such a thing to a stranger? "How could you? I only just met you, don't be silly." I shrugged off his ignorance.

Frank looked at me with this sympathetic look in his eyes, like he pitied Mikey and I. I didn't point it out, no, I just sighed and sat on the street's curb, facing the street. Frank didn't join me, not at first anyway. But when he did he watched as I pulled a single cigarette out of the pack I had in my pocket.

I lit it between my lips with the white Bic lighter, inhaling the smoke slowly as I closed my eyes. It was something about the dark that was relaxing, everything was calm and quiet. It was like the world was shut off just for a little while and nothing mattered at all. I found my greatest moments during the night time, that's when my best ideas and thoughts occur.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Frank's voice broke the momentary silence. I looked over slightly, my growing black hair blocked my eyes and made it unable for me to see his whole face. I tried to digest what he was saying, he made no sense. So I took another drag and looked back at the street.

The street was illuminated with the street lamps that littered the sidewalks. They were shitty, they flickered on and off and made a horrible buzzing noise, but for some reason I found that fascinating. In a weird way it was sort of perfect, that something so damaged and shitty could still manage to work and provide the much needed light and guidance for others. It was an odd thing to think, but as the sky got darker and my cigarette became more like a home to me, I didn't care and it didn't really matter.

"Talk about what?" I asked in my hoarse smoking voice. It probably sounded completely disgusting, Frank could more than likely picture my tar covered lungs every time I spoke a word in his direction. The only good thing about having lungs that are covered in tar, is maybe that one day my lungs will just give out. At the age of 16 I have a better chance of that than anyone else that doesn't smoke at an older age.

"You smoke because something is bothering you. What bothers you?" That question threw me off. Of course I had run into multiple people while smoking on the streets, of course some of Zack's buddies who helped us buy some shit asked me why I chose to do the shit I do. My answer has always been the same, 'to pass the time, and so far it does wonders.'

"To forget." Is all I said and he seemed to understand completely. He shook his head as he studied the smoke that rolled out of my nostrils and mouth, like it was a work of art. Art that fades away and is soon replaced by more art that will never be the same.

"It's funny and ironic how we choose to forget pain by replacing it with more pain. We cling onto our addictions in hopes that it will save us, but in the end all it does is fuck us over. You're alone and then you see a distraction and you think 'maybe this will help.' But does it really?" I was rambling, it was night time and that wasn't so unusual for me. However, I did usually keep these deep rants in my head, I never had someone to share them with.

"You smoke to forget about your parents." It was a statement, but to me it sounded like curiosity. Frank looked younger than me, maybe even the same age. He was curious and short, he had this hole in his lip, right where a lip ring would be. He even had a hole in his nose. I hated piercings, the thought of needles being jabbed into my skin for a fashion trend did not wash well with me, but the piercing would look good on Frank.

"I smoke to forget a lot of things, really. Now what about you? What bothers you?"It was time I learned something about the stranger who just casually followed me home and asked me tons of personal questions. It was my turn to listen to him ramble on as we sat here in the dark. I stamped out my cigarette, getting ready to hear his story.

But as he was about to respond, his mouth just opening to speak, Anthony's voice hollered out. "Gerard, lights out!" I groaned, hating the fact that I had such an early curfew, hating the fact that I couldn't sit outside and just talk to someone at night.

"I guess this is goodbye for now, Gerard." Frank smirked at me. "I guess so.."

Just let me tell you, when I got inside the facility, I watched Frank from my bedroom window. I watched as his short figure walked down the street, to his home. That was because Frank had something I didn't, he had a family and a home to look forward to. But I? I had Mikey and the hard facility bed.

And when I couldn't see him walking anymore, I laid on my bed. I closed my eyes and failed as I tried to stop all the memories from coming back. I attempted to block out that last goodbye I ever heard when I was 4. I tried to stop that single tear from rolling down my cheek as I remembered it all.

Because in the end, I know that goodbye means forever with no good intentions whatsoever. I was expert in hearing and dissecting the word "goodbye."