Fake Your Death

Chapter 2

I didn't revise this at all

I was a mess.

I was overjoyed.

I was broken.

But most of all I was pissed.

I felt so betrayed.

Four fucking years.

Four years of nothing but pain and sadness.

Not only for me either.

Gerard left such a hole in our lives.

Did he even care?

Mikey turned to drugs and alcohol.

He wouldn't speak to me after the funeral, he blamed me and he blamed himself.

I still check in with Pete every once in a while and he said Mikey is getting better.

Ray had moved to California, he couldn't take having to try to pick up all the broken pieces that Gerard had left in our lives.

And what had I done?

What hadn't I done?

The drugs didn't help.

Neither did the alcohol.

The pain, the blood, and the reminders the blade left behind on my skin.

That's what made me feel human again.

It made me feel weak, it made me feel broken and pathetic.

But it made me feel something, and that was better than feeling nothing at all.

Watching the red liquid drip onto the white tile of my bathroom, seeing the way each tear would fall and dilute the beautiful scarlet pools.

It reminded me of myself and how I had destroyed something beautiful because I'm human.

"Frank? A-are you okay?" He asked looking at me with concern.

"What the fuck do you think, Gerard?!" I snapped, not really caring how hurt he looked, not caring one bit at all.

"I-I'm..so sorry, Frank." he said looking down ashamed.

I went to speak but he didn't let me.

"I know sorry doesn't cut it, but please, p-please- don't hate me, I-"

"You're god damn right! Sorry doesn't cut it, Gerard! It's been four fucking years! Everyone thought you were fucking dead! Do you know what kind of a mess you left behind!? Do you even care?!" I yelled, attracting a quite a bit of attention to the scene.

"C-can we go outside, p-please?" He whimpered.

I nodded and we went outside.

"Did you even care?" I asked as Gerard sat down on the damp concrete and pulled his knees to his chest.

"W-what?"

"You fucking heard me! Do you care how bad you fucked up everyone else's lives?! Didn't you even think about us? Or were you just thinking about yourself like usual!?"

"I-" he began, putting his head down so his hair could decently hide the tears running down his face. "I thought everyone would move on and forget about me. That's what I wanted, to be forgotten. I didn't want to do anymore damage, I just wanted to disappear, start over."

I wanted to hug him, I wanted to wipe away his tears and say everything would be okay.

But I also wanted to make him realize all the pain he'd caused, I wanted him to cry like I had, and I hated myself for that.

I love him.

Or at least I had.

"Mikey.." I said watching as Gerard's head rises at his brothers name. "He got back into drugs and alcohol, he nearly died from it four times." I said looking down. "Pete said he doing better now."

Gerard stared at his hands, eyes wide and glossy.

"Ray left, moved to California. We don't talk much anymore. He couldn't deal with the mess you left behind." I continued.

"A-and you? What about you, F-Frank?"

I couldn't help but laugh, it was sharp and pained and sad.

"What, me? Do you really want to know what hell you put me through, Gerard?"

He remained silent and just stared at me.

I tugged off my jacket, holding out the brutally scarred skin on my bare arms.

I'd even fucked up some of my tattoos with all the jagged lines from various different pain inflictors, really anything and everything that would break the skin when I was desperate.

He looked horrified.

Good.

"I blamed myself for it all," I said after a minute "the drugs and alcohol didn't work, but there was something so therapeutic about watching my own blood drip on the floor while trying not to pass out from the pain."

He started crying again, much harder this time, "I'm so sorry" repeating every few seconds through sobs.

He looked so broken, a feeling I had grown all too accustomed to.

I let out a small sigh before letting my previous rage subside.

I sat down next to Gerard and he flinched as I did so.

I couldn't help the ache in my heart, I couldn't subdue the yelling in my head, but maybe I could fix this, maybe I could fix him, and maybe he could do the same for me.