facetime ; petekey

Fifty One: before you read this chapter guess who is gonna die

Frank: gUYS

Ray: wHAT

Beebo: yO

Frank: I think I found his jacket

Mikey: what? Where are you?

Frank: near the lake

Mikey: we'll be there soon

Ryro: o shit

Patrick: are you sure it's his jacket?

Frank: yes.

Frank: he got it custom made, limited edition.

Pete: i hope he's okay oh god

Mikey: so do I.

Pete: Frank, we're around the corner

Frank: thank god.

-

The jacket definitely was Gerard's, and that didn't give Mikey hope. It just made him terrified. It was found in the lake. Not on the side. Frank had to try his best to fish it out with a stick.

When Mikey and Pete saw Frank sat there leaning against a tree, looking as lifeless as ever, Mikey immediately ran over, Pete quickly following behind.

Mikey immediately gasped as he saw Frank. He lay limp, propped up against the tree. Purple and red bruises littered his throat in the shape of fingerprints. There was blood trickling slowly out of his mouth, dripping off his jaw and splashing onto the pale skin of his neck. Some of the bruising had now been covered in blood that had fell. The metallic smell of blood was so strong it started making them feel ill.

Mikey began backing away from Frank's limp form, muttering something under his breath that wasn't loud enough to translate. Bravely, Pete bent down next to Frank's body, lifting his wrist up and checked for a pulse in the hopes that there would be one, that Frank was alive and well, but that would be a miracle. And miracles don't happen to people like them.