The Things I Remember About Frank Iero

f i n a l

On the first morning after Christmas break, I texted Frank about seven times asking if he was at school yet. He never texted back, and I didn't see him until after I dropped off my stuff at my first period class and made my way to his locker.
"Frank! Where have you been?" I asked. "I texted you."
"Sorry." Frank mumbled, not making eye contact with me as he took his binder out of his backpack. Once he closed his locker, he finally looked at me. "You're coming with me to my class, right? To drop off my stuff?"
"Of course." I said. "Why wouldn't I?"
So we walked upstairs to Frank's first period together, our hands dangerously close. I knew if we were in private, we might have been holding hands. No, we probably would have. As we approached the classroom, our hands flung together, and Frank laced our fingers together, just for a moment. I didn't know if he let go because we were entering the class and his teacher probably would have gotten mad or he just didn't want to hold my hand, but either way, it was a great few seconds. The bell rang only a few minutes later, which seemed sooner than normal.
Nothing that happened the entire rest of the week was out of the ordinary. Well, until Friday.
I walked into school, a bit later than normal, and immediately made my way to Frank's locker. Before I could even say anything, he was in my arms. I couldn't see Frank's face because it was buried in the crook of my neck and I was sure I could feel hot tears against my neck. People were staring, but I decided to ignore it as I rubbed his back.
"What's wrong...?" I finally asked, Frank's shoulders shaking as he clutched onto my shirt.
He was silent for a while, and I could finally hear him sobbing. "Please don't make me go home..." he finally choked out.
"I'm not gonna make you do anything, Frank..." I didn't know what was even going on. "Do you want to spend the night at my house tonight?"
He nodded, sniffling a bit. "Y-Yes please..."
So Frank came over that night, and everything was normal again. We talked and listened to music for hours, and nothing really happened. I never asked Frank what was wrong and he never told me.
Later that night, when the whole house was quiet and dark, Frank started to spill. He suddenly just started crying and mumbling nonsense while he sobbed.
"Frank, Frank..." I put a hand on his shoulder and tilted his head up with my other hand. "Calm down... tell me what's wrong..."
He cried for a minute or two longer and finally calmed down enough to speak clearly. "Y-You wouldn't understand..."
"Frank..." I let out a quiet sigh. "You gotta tell me."
He shook his head. "I-I just want you to hold me..."
I nodded, pulling Frank onto my lap and wrapping my arms firmly around him. After a while, he started to cry again. It was a long night, but eventually Frank fell asleep, and everything was quiet.
On Sunday, I showed up at Frank's door. I was worried about him. He hadn't really been responding to my texts at all, and when he did, they were simple one word responses that either made absolutely no sense or gave the briefest answer possible.
I knocked on his front door, my stomach churning with worry. A woman who I assumed was Frank's mother opened the door, which was strange. I hadn't ever met his mom, only his dad, and I hadn't even seen his dad that many times as it was.
"Oh?" she smiled sweetly. She seemed quite young, her face soft and without wrinkles and her shiny brown hair without any gray. "Are you one of Frank's friends?"
I smiled nervously. "Uh, yeah, I'm Gerard."
"Nice to meet you, Gerard. I'm Frank's aunt." she said. "I've been taking care of the house for the last few weeks. You don't happen to go by Gee, do you?"
"Um, yeah, I do, actually. Why?"
"Ah, well, Frank just talks about you a lot. Thought you might want to know." she smiled again, brightly. "I'll go tell Frank you're here."
I nodded, my face heating up as she walked off. Frank talked about me? To his aunt? I never had talked about Frank with anyone, except maybe Mikey, but not very much. I felt excited for what was to come. Things couldn't get any better.
My thoughts were interrupted when Frank's aunt walked back to the doorway. "Frank's in his room. I think he's a little sad. Maybe you can cheer him up." she smiled softly, patting my shoulder gently as I walked inside.
I made my way down the hall to Frank's bedroom, the worry starting up again. I had completely forgotten all about what had happened just a day before.
I walked into his room, and things were a mess. His bed seemed to be torn apart, and all the posters that were once on his wall were in a messy pile in the corner. Frank sat on the floor up against his bed, hugging his knees to his chest and looking down. He didn't even look up as I entered.
I closed the door quietly behind me and walked over to him, sitting down next to him.
"Hey, Frank..." I said in a quiet, soft tone. He didn't respond. "I've been thinking about you..." I decided maybe I should just talk to him like it was normal. "So, um, here I am. I wanted to see you." I smiled, looking over at him. He didn't look up, and my smile faded. "I wanted to see if you were okay." I blurted out, not able able to stop the rest that followed. "You really scared me, at my house, you know. And then your aunt said you were sad... and... well... I'm sorry. I'm here to cheer you up." I hesitantly put my arm around his shoulders. He tensed up for a moment, and then relaxed. "Where's your dad?" I asked, instantly regretting it. "I mean... only tell me if you want, I don't want to-"
"I don't know." Frank said, still looking down.
"What?" I asked, alarmed by Frank's voice.
"I don't know where my dad is. Probably at a damn bar or something, I don't know." he replied, his voice cracking slightly near the end of his words.
"I'm sorry, Frank... I didn't know-"
"That's not the reason I'm upset." Frank said, staying silent for a few seconds afterward. He opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again. He looked like he really was struggling to say whatever he wanted to say.
"You don't have to tell me, Frank..." I said.
"No, I..." Frank finally looked up at me, his eyes glossy with tears. "He hit me." his voice shook, and I could tell he was going to break down at any moment.
I didn't know what to say or even what to do. I didn't even have to say anything though, because Frank started to talk again.
"It's always been a struggle... for him. He's never had a good life. He drank and he smoked and he did drugs. But... but he wasn't a bad dad. He loved me. He still does." Frank was nearly crying as tears pooled in his eyes. "He just didn't know how to get rid of his anger. And then... he just... started to take it out on me... I-I guess the neighbor saw something and they called the police who contacted my aunt. My dad left before she got here and I don't know if he got arrested or not. Y-Yet." he choked on his words as he tried not to cry.
"B-But why did your aunt just say you were sad...? I mean... he h-hit you... that's kinda a big deal... of course you'd be sad." I said, not knowing what to think about the whole thing.
"Whenever he'd hit me... it was never that hard of a hit. It didn't make me feel like I did something wrong or that I was a- a failure or anything. It hurt, yeah, but it didn't make me that upset. It just... it made me feel bad for my dad." Frank replied. "B-But... recently... I just don't know. My aunt knew all the things that I've thought while he hit me. She doesn't know my other thoughts about other things."
"What happened to your mom?" before I could stop myself, I had said it. It was out. I couldn't stop it. And I instantly regretted it.
Frank looked back down, the tears finally spilling from his eyes.
"I-I'm sorry...! You do not have to tell me. I'm so sorry..." I said, biting my lip.
"N-No..." Frank said after a moment. "You deserve to know." another moment of silence. "Even before my mom met my dad, she was... she was depressed. And then they met... and, well, yeah, things got better. But things weren't fixed completely. After they got married, she fell into another depression... and... and..." Frank's voice shook and I wasn't expecting him to finish, but he did. "And I was born... born soon after. I made her happy, and my dad did too, but not happy enough. I grew up to them fighting about my dad's drug problem, and, sometimes, when my mom was too sad and distant to put me to bed, I would sit by her door and listen to her talk to my dad. Th-They would talk about all kinds of things, good and bad. I often heard them whispering 'I love you' to each other as my mom cried and I would listen to it, feeling like, no, no, knowing that everything was going to be okay. I didn't understand much, because I was little, but I knew enough to know when things were getting worse. When things got worse, I listened to my mom tell my dad about... about how she felt. About the great, black nothingness of death and how she just c-couldn't live, but she was so scared to die. It wasn't long after that mom left the house one night and didn't come back. M-My dad told me she was gone... that she had gone t-to live in the heavens with h-her m-mommy... that she wasn't c-coming back, b-but I would see h-her again someday..." Frank took a few shaky deep breaths as tears streamed down his face. "She k-k-killed herself b-by this lake... and s-sometimes I go there... and t-talk to her... and t-tell her about the great, black nothingness of death and how I just c-can't live but I'm so scared to d-die..." and then Frank just burst out crying, his sobs coming in uncontrollable tiny gasps.
And I just held him as he crawled onto my lap and sobbed into the crook of my neck, rubbing his back. What he didn't know was that I was crying too, but much quieter and much more controllably.
"G-Gee...?" Frank choked out, after a long time of uncontrollable sobs.
"Yeah...?"
"I-I love you..." he said, sniffling. "I-I don't know what love feels like, b-but this has to be it..." he paused. "I-I don't know how long I c-can keep doing this..."
"F-Frank, stop..." I said as Frank moved back slightly and grabbed onto my hand. I held his hand loosely, and before I could realize what I was doing, I was pulling up his sleeve with my other hand and running my finger across several cuts along his wrist. "D-Did it hurt...?" I asked, my voice soft and shaky.
Frank shrugged. " I-I don't remember."
I pulled Frank closer and held him tightly, his head on my shoulder. "I-I think I love you too, Frank..." I whispered.