Demented

Fucking Gorgeous

It had been two weeks since Frank came. Gerard and him were getting along. During room time, they talked or played a card or board game. But Gerard couldn't keep thinking about what Frank had said. He said he had pretty eyes. Gerard often found Frank just staring at him. It was annoying. He was nice and interesting, so it was fine. People in the facility that wore long sleeved shirts were usually trying to hide scars. Scars that were self inflicted on themselves. Cuts and burns. From glass to ropes. Matches to stovetops. Frank wore long sleeved shirts. Gerard wanted to know what it was that he was hiding. It was like hiding your past. And why they were there. Gerard didn't want to ask, due to the fact of Frank asking more personal questions.

Gerard sat down with his Wheaties. He was looking down and eating, when Frank came up. Gerard didn't notice him for thirty seconds. Frank was too shy to get his attention. "Ca-can I sit here?"

"Sure." Frank sat down in the chair opposite of Gerard. They didn't say anything to each other; they just ate.

Once they entered their room, Frank held up a pack of cards from his bed. Gerard nodded and the two sat on the ground. In the middle of the game, Frank asked, "Gerard, what did you do to get in here?"

"Umm...well, I don't feel really comfortable talking about it."

"I understand."

"What'd you do?"

"I um, I tr-tried to kill myself. For the fourth time. I ended up in a coma for a week, and they had decided to put me in here."

"Oh. Um, why'd you try to kill yourself?"

"Cause I just wa-wanted to forget about everything," Frank replied.

"I don't mean to get all intrusive, but, what do you mean by "everything"?"

"Bullying. Parents. Voices telling me too."

"What do your parents do?" Gerard asked. Not really caring, since he has the inability, but just out of curiosity.

"Ignore me. They're disappointed in me all the time. They'd rather be at work than looking at me. They never admit when they're wrong," Frank trailed off. There was more.

"My parents abused me," Gerard spoke up. "They were always drunk. After a hard night of drinking, my mom come and beat my ass. After coming home from work, my dad came and called me some horrible things then he'd beat my ass."

"Did they do the same to Mikey?"

"Yah. And I never had the guts to stop it."

"Don't put yourself down like that," Frank comforted.

Gerard shrugged. "I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"Okay."
______________________________

It was the middle of the night, when Gerard woke up. He had heard a strange noise. He looked at his clock and saw that it was two o'clock. Gerard looked over at Frank's bed and saw that the noise was coming from his bed. It took him a minute to place what he was doing. He was crying. Gerard thought it might be good to comfort him. Although what ever he said, he wouldn't mean it. Gerard didn't actually care. Not because he was heartless, but because he was a sociopath. He couldn't help it.

Gerard stood up quietly, and walked over to his bed. "Are you okay?"

Frank stopped and sniffed. "Um, yeah. I-Im fine," he said in between sniffles.

"Why are you crying?" Gerard asked, sitting on Frank's bed.

"I just hate being here. I just wanna go home."