A Coffin Your Size(Frerard)

Chapter 13

THIS CHAPTER INVOLVES DEATH MENTIONS AND SUICIDAL THOUGHTS/ACTIONS. PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION IF THIS MAY TRIGGER YOU.

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Frank walked slowly across the park, taking a long drag from the cigarette between his fingers. His hands trembled as they flicked the cigarette free of ashes. He rounded a bend in the pathway, crossing into the bridge over the small stream leading into a pond.

He leaned against the railing that stretched across the bridge, pushing smoke past his lips and into the air. Frank stared into the rushing water, chewing his already bleeding lip. He should just do it. Jump off. Frank tucked the cigarette between his lips and climbed up onto the railing. The water would be cold but he'd die fast. Probably hit his head against a rock or something.

But what if it didn't kill him? Then he'd probably get paralyzed and his parents would have to take care of him and he'd live his left in even more pain then he was in now. His parents would kill him, no they love him too much.

They love him.

Maybe he shouldn't, maybe he should just stay alive. Maybe he could get better maybe he would be okay. He'd find a nice guy and go somewhere nice. Yeah, he could start a band up and be a real musician. He could be happy.

Frank smiled, tilted his head up and blew smoke into the sky. His arms spread out, letting the wind billow his unzipped hoodie around his torso.

" Are you gonna jump? " came a shout, followed by laughter. Frank heard the scraping of shoes against the gravel path, and he turned around, lowering his arms. They walked over and Frank felt his stomach plummet.

" No, I'm not. " he called back, even though they were close now. He didn't get down. God, why didn't he get down.

They stopped in front of him. All three of them wearing smirks on their lips, like a pack of wolves circling a wounded deer.

" Why the fuck not? You're a freak show, everyone wants you dead, " leered Henry, the tallest and most obnoxious of the three. Frank laughed at him, and took the cigarette from between his lips, blowing smoke into their faces. The all grimaced.

" Aw, Henry, you're not that bad. I mean yeah, your hair looks like it's never been washed and you smell like a fucking turtle tank, but I'm sure there's somebody who doesn't want you dead," Frank cooed, walking across the railing like a tightrope. He smirked at Henry as his face turned into a snarl.

" The hell did you just say to me, assclown?" The two behind Henry squared their shoulders and crossed their arms. Frank snickered.

" Oooh, I'm scared now. Gonna sick your little Bulldogs on me?" He teased, wiggling his fingers at them. They edged foreword. Frank clenched his jaw. Would they push him?

" Jump. " one of the two behind Henry urged him. John? Frank was pretty sure that's what his name was.

" No."

" Need a little convincing?" He stepped foreword from behind the others. John walked straight up and grabbed Frank by the ankles. His heartbeat skyrocketed.

" Okay, so you're gonna kill me," Frank breathed, holding his hands out to steady himself. The other two looked nervous.

" John, dude. Let him go," Frank didn't know his name. He couldn't really think of much. All he could think of was, good God why was he such an asshole.

" No. He was gonna jump. Now he's gonna fall." Henry growled, walking up and shoving the other guy's shoulders. Frank yelled as his feet slipped off the railing, his head smacking against the metal of the bottom of the bridge.

His eyes focused on the sky as he fell, his hoodie flapping against his torso. Once he hit the water he knew it was over. The water was like hitting a concrete sidewalk. Ice, flooding into his lungs.

Frank was gone. At least his physical form was.

And above, three boys ran as fast as they could in the other direction. One of which was crying, and vowed to himself never to talk to the others again. And on the bridge, Frank's still-lit cigarette burned and burned until it was just a spot of ash.

It wasn't until days later that Frank opened his eyes again. However, his body lied in the water. Wasting away until it was spotted by a jogger, of course. They always find the bodies. He was dead, only alive in spirit. In the most literal sense. He was a ghost.

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Gerard was frozen. Listening to Frank with tears in his eyes.

" T-They killed you?" He stammered, cupping Frank's face in his hands. His skin was warm and real, but Gerard would save that question for last.

" Yeah, but it's okay. I've got my body back and theirs are rotting away in some crime lab," Frank replied, kissing Gerard's hand softly.

" You killed them? You have your body back I, I really don't quite understand," Gerard breathed, furrowing his eyebrows and staring at Frank in utter disbelief. Frank smiled.

" I told Mikey to tell you, I was in Hell," he murmured as he threaded his fingers through Gerard's hair.

" No he told me."

" Then what are you so confused about, princess? I'm a demon."