Save Me From My Self Destruction. (Frerard)

Chapter 8- I'd Rather Feel Physical Pain Than Emotional Pain.

I'd Rather Feel Physical Pain Than Emotional Pain.-

I constantly found myself being a victim of over-thinking. I would mull on my own thoughts, dissect the every word that came out of someone's mouth, I would even think myself into a bad mood. I blamed the random flash of memories that occurred from time to time.

One memory that was forever stuck in my mind was my first day of preschool. My day started off normal, as normal as normal gets for a Cheerio smelling toddler. My mom dropped me off, I walked into the building alone, I was forced to face all those kids and teachers alone. My small frame was racked with fear and anger, were was my mom?

I flipped chairs, I cried and screamed, threw the snacks on the floor. The teachers ended up calling my mom, telling her she needed to pick me up immediately. My mom was upset, but then she learned I stole Ms. Lawson's phone off the play table. I wasn't as innocent as I looked.

"Gerard, Frank is here." Adam knocked on my door, his voice cold and harsh. Before I could respond I had Frank barging into my room. He look beyond pissed off, he attempted to look intimidating. However that didn't work , Frank is barely 5 foot. He resembles a cute little sleep deprived kid who needed a juice box, nap, and his blanket. 

I stayed silent, waiting for him to rant about whatever was making him mad. But it never came, instead, he held up a single blunt, stunning me greatly. "I uhh.." I began to pat my pockets, obviously not finding the blunt that rested between Frank's fingers. "You what, Gerard?" Frank snapped. What was I supposed to say? I was holding it for a friend? I continued to stare at him silently in shock. "Smoking is one thing, but Weed? That's a fucking different story!" I knew this, I watched as he calmed down. "Gerard," he sighed. 

"I went to go pick up cigarettes from Zack," I cut Frank off, "I kid you not, they were all smoking blunts and this random guy gave it to me, told me to hang on to it just in case." Frank looked at me differently, he looked from my face to the blunt and back again. "Were you actually going to smoke it?" Frank asked me in a hushed tone, a tone so quiet I could barely hear him. "No, I wasn't." I answered him truthfully. Then, Frank sighed again, slowly handing me the blunt. "Promise me you will never."

"Of course I won't." I accepted the blunt and stuck it back into my pocket. Frank sat next to me, "Never turn into a pot head on me." I smirked at his words."I'm not joking!" He smirked himself. "I wasn't laughing," I winked at him. 

I watched as his cheeks turned this crimson color, blushing. I rose my hand to his cheeks, forcing him to look at me. I felt the warm, soft surface of his right cheek beneath my fingertips. His eyes that were mixed colors or brown, green, and gold looked into my bland ones. And for once, I thought this moment, this world, our existence was meant to be and perfect. 

"Gerard," He whispered to me, forcing me out of my thoughts. "Oh, I uhh.." I awkwardly looked at my hand placed on his cheek. "Sorry," I said as I moved my hand and looked at my sock covered feet. I could feel his eyes still on me as I did this. 

There was an awkward silence filling the room for a few seconds. "Gerard, how do you feel about gay people?" Frank looked at me, curiosity filling his eyes. "I'm straight," I said automatically, defending the reputation I don't have. "Oh," he bit his lip as he thought. Just when I thought things couldn't get any more awkward, Frank sighed and laid his hand on my right cheek, directing my face towards his. 

Before I could process what was happening I felt his soft, pink lips against my own. His cool metal lip ring was pressed right under my bottom lip as my bottom lip was placed between his teeth. I could just feel him tugging and sucking on my lip as I did the same to his top lip. 

He pulled away, all out of breath he softly whispered, "What about now?" I took a deep breath, "Pro-Gay all the way." He smiled and chuckled at me, giving me this look of determination. I bit my lip, wanting more, needing to taste his sweet lips once again. 

"I should probably get going, Blunt Boy." Frank winked at me as he stood up and walked out of my room. I closed my eyes, after one kiss I knew what this feeling in my stomach meant. That boy, Frank, he does these things to me. He fills my stomach with this warm feeling and butterflies. He makes tears build up behind my eyelids, he brings a smile to my face. 

I though about Mikey, I wondered if I should swallow my pride and fess up my feelings to him. Would it really matter? I'm not "In love" with Frank, I simply like him. Mikey, on the other hand, was he was confessing pure, straight up love to someone he didn't know. My opinions were still the same, but did Mikey have the right to know about the actions that just took place? No, he has no right at all. 

I looked out my window, Mikey and Kristin's usual hangout spot was in view. They weren't there, which I had found odd. I rolled my eyes, pretending and trying to convince myself that I didn't care. I pulled a smoke out of the open pack and stuck it between my lips. I dug the lighter out of my pocket, igniting the correct end of the cigarette. I took a drag before leaning over and opening the window. 

My horrible luck kicked in as Mikey and Kristin appeared in the grass, right across from my window. Mikey was watching, gritting his teeth with an expression of shock covering his face, and his eyes were fixed upon the smoke I was currently exhaling. I could physically see his grip on Kristin's hand tighten. 

I quickly turned around, my eyes widening with fear. I exhaled the last bit of smoke from the previous drag and smashed the cherry of the cigarette against my knee. The cigarette burned a hole in my jeans, my favorite pair. I then stashed the cigarette in my pocket. 

I knew it was all useless, Mikey had already seen me. Not to mention I have a cigarette burn on my knee and my room smells like a tobacco store. My little innocent brother had caught me with my addiction red handed. 

My bedroom door slammed open. Three people stood in the doorway. A pissed off Mikey Way, a shocked Frank, and of course, an awkward looking Kristin. I mentally burned holes through her skull for corrupting my young brother. 

"Cigarettes? And you LECTURED ME about being in LOVE?" Mikey yelled at me. I just shrugged to mask  the emotions I was feeling, "You're too young for love." My sentence seemed to piss him off more. What do I have to lose? I've already lost everything I've had. 

But it wasn't just that, and I knew it wasn't. This had nothing to do with him being "too young for love," it had to do with love not existing. I didn't want his hopes to be raised high enough to where when something happens he ends up being smashed beyond repair. I want him to be realistic, they say the first love a man/ guy will ever have is his mother, but what the fuck are we supposed to do when we don't even have a mother?

"Too young for love? Yeah, well you're 16, too young for cigarettes... TOO YOUNG TO DIE!" He yelled, throwing his hands up in the air. 

There was nearly a hundred ways I wanted to answer that statement. One hundred ways I didn't dare say or do. I could have said I wish I would die, I have already tried, death would be better than living. However, I settled on a more comforting approach. "I'm not dying." Which, in all honesty is full of shit, because we all are. Just some are dying faster than others. 

With tears in his eyes and evident disappointment, Mikey left with Kristin. But not without whispering "I wish I had a normal family," under his breath. 

I agreed. His words hurt me, all I ever did was disappoint him and try my best. I failed. I could blame my absent parents all I wanted but I knew deep down I was the one responsible for Mikey, I was the one who raised him. I failed, my fault. 

"I'm sorry, I was gonna run up here and warn you but he beat me to it." Frank sighed, giving me a sad look. I groaned and collapsed on my bed, rubbing an irritated hand over my face. Frank sat beside me, placing a comforting hand on my back, rubbing it slightly. "It gets harder, but you'll make it."

Then, I had to ask myself, would I make it?