My Angel (Frerard) [REWRITE] *Slow Updates*

14: The World Is Ugly, But You're Beautiful To Me

When it got really dark, I got really freaked out. The moon was shining bright, but it was pretty creepy still. There was no way I was going home tonight. Nope. No way I was walking through the woods in the dark. I was just... Ugh.

I just layed in the field, shivering like a motherfucker because it was like, 35 degrees and I had on light clothes. I'm sure my lips were blue. I found a tree and curled up next to it to block out some of the bone chilling wind.

My phone went off about a billion times. Texts from Brendon, Bren's friend Dallon Weekes, Mikey, Mom, Pete, Ryan, and Lindsey and more. None from Frank, of course. I just ignored every text. I let every call go straight to voicemail. I turned off my phone. I blocked everyone out.

After awhile, when I turned my phone back on, I think everyone must've been freaked out and they must've bugged Frank, because he texted me finally.

'Gerard where the fuck are you?'

I didn't want to respond. I just clicked off my screen and pretended like I didn't read it. But everyone still kept texting me.

Mikey: Gerard please come home. Where are you?

Mom: Gerard where the fuck are you? You're pissing me off. It's late.

Brendon: Gerard are you okay?

Dallon: hey it's Dallon, Bren's worried about you.

Pete: are you alright? You can call me if you want.

Mikey: Gerard please don't ignore me. Please come back.

Lindsey: you OK? I'm worried about you please text me.

Ryan: hey please call Bren. He's worried.

Ray: hey gee, you alright? Where are you? We're all worried.

Frank: please don't fucking ignore me. Text me back.

Bob: text someone back cause they're all worried as shit.

Mom: Gerard come home. Tell me what's going on? I'm worried sick.

Frank: gee answer your goddamn phone.

And many, many more.

I pulled out my razorblade as my phone buzzed and buzzed. I studied it again. And again, I lightly pressed it to my skin. I wasn't gonna kill myself. I just needed to cut. I needed to watch myself bleed.

I pressed down slightly harder and dragged it across my wrist. The little slice started to bleed a little bit. I watched as it trickled down my arm. I watched as one drop fell onto the grass. And I was somewhat satisfied. I put the blade back and wrapped my wrist in my shirt, getting blood all over it. But I didn't care. I just tilted my head back against the tree and went to sleep.