autism . frerard

Ch.5

Gerard did go home on Monday night, and Tuesday night, and Wednesday night.

But on Thursday night... he also left, but something much worse happened.

I poured my eyes out, my heart and soul with it. I let myself drown in my own tears and thought about how nobody seemed to care about me. Yes, Gerard was here, and I saw him at school, but I always questioned why he left every night. He knew that my parents weren't coming home until the end of the week. He still left at nine. On Tuesday, he left at eight, on Wednesday he left at seven. And every day, his kisses seemed weaker and his eyes didn't sparkle. His smile faltered and every time I tried to make him smile, it looked forced. I always felt the need to bring it up, but I shrugged it off. God, I'm such an asshole.

This Thursday morning he showed up with a bruise under his right eye. I asked him and everytime I did he shrugged me off or said, "don't worry about it". I was so worried about him and I never took it hard enough on him. Did he not understand that I cared enough? Did he not care enough?

But that Thursday night, at three in the morning, I called Gerard.

"Frank?! Frank, what is it?" He asked in a rushed, yet tired, tone

"P-please, Gerard," I whined, feeling my tears streaking down my face, almost being able to feel my eyes burn.

"I can't. Not right now," He shrugged off.

I felt heart broken. He never seemed busy before.

"Gerard, please!"

He sighed and groaned before murmuring a, "I'm on my way, take your medication, and try to stop crying." Then he hung up What the hell is going on? He's acting like he's never given a shit. Like he's regretting my existence. And it just made me cry harder.

I slapped myself, "stop crying!" No one cares. Gerard may be coming, but he didn't seem like he cared or like he even wanted to come.

I ran my hands though my hair, pulling on it and digging my face into my sheets. Lost for comfort.

I heard the door open and get slammed shut before I heard the thuding of someone rushing upstairs.

"Frank."

He doesn't even care about me, but he's all I have right now.

I whimpered and Gerard grabbed me, his bruise clear as day. I almost couldn't stand looking at it. Just the thought of someone hurting Gerard made me want to cry.

"G-Gerard," I whined, wrapping my arms around myself.

"I'm here, I'm sorry, Frankie, I'm so sorry," He rambled, his voice cracking. "I'm such an asshole."

I shook my head, refusing to believe him. He thought so low of himself and it hurt me.

"Did you take your medication?" He asked, grabbing my arms, and I let him untangle them from being around myself.

I nodded and curled into his chest.

He seemed puzzled, confused. He didn't say anything for a few minutes but eventually spoke up.

"What's wrong, Frankie?" He asked softly.

"I-I thought you didn't care about me anymore. A-and I just... Jesus Christ, Gerard!" He shuddered at my sudden outburst. "I love you so much; you won't tell me what's wrong, and it feels like you don't care about anything anymore. I just feel like I'm not doing enough, but I'm trying to do everything I can to help. Y-you just..." I stuttered angrily, yanking and pulling on his shirt.

"I'm sorry, Frank!" He whined out, I looking up to see his glassy hazel eyes staring at me with this deep sadness.

"Why won't you just tell me what's wrong?" I whispered out, feeling desperate and tired of searching for answers.