Carving Pumpkins (Frank Iero)

Him [Continued]

"What the hell?!" I screamed, causing Harlow to break away from Andrew. "Frank!" she cried. "It's...he...he kissed me!" Harlow looked at Andrew, bewildered.

I turned on my heel and ran as fast as I could, fighting the urge to cry. "Frank!" Harlow yelled from behind me, her voice broken. "He kissed me!"

I slammed through the front doors of Pencey Elementary and stomped into Penney's classroom. "C'mon," I mumbled to her, picking up her things and sweeping her out of the classroom.

"Frankie, what's wrong?" Penney whimpered. "Are you okay? Did somebody beat you up again?"

I shook my head. "No." I said, my voice coming out sharper than I'd intended. "I'll explain later."

Neither of us talked the whole way home, and I bounded up the stairs, gave Penney her things, and locked myself in my room.

I strummed angrily at my guitar for a few hours, reopening old callouses and making my fingers bleed. I played and played, fingers bloodied, soaked in sweat from running around my room. Playing my guitar, which I had named Killjoy, always made me feel better.

"Frank!" I heard a gruff voice outside my door that I hadn't heard in a long time.

"Turn that goddamned music off!" My father yelled. "All you do is sit in that room and sulk. You're just stupid! You're absolutely worthless!"

I set my guitar down on my bed and slowly opened the door to see my father. He was drunk; I could smell the booze on his breath.

"You're basically a dead beat dad, and you're calling me worthless?!" I screamed in his face.

"Frank Anthony Iero, do not talk back to your father!"

"Father?!" I screamed, my hands flying up to grip at my hair. "What kind of father are you?! You're out most of the time, you never take care of your own children, you're just...you're just a goddamn horrible person!"

"Frank!" His weathered face crinkled together and he raised his fist. Before I knew it, I had a fist imprint on my jaw the size of my father's knuckles. "How dare you disrespect you father like that!"

I brought my hand up to my nose and discovered that it was bleeding.

"You..." My father had hit me before, but he'd never made me bleed. "You...you're a fucking monster!"

My father's face filled with rage and he huffed. I heard little footsteps behind me, and, before I could tell her to stop, Penney ran in front of me.

"Don't you hit Frank-" She squealed, cut off by my father's hand landing a sharp smack across her cheek.

I lunged toward my father and threw my fist at his face as hard as I possibly could, and we both fell backward down the staircase, wrestling and swinging at each other fiercely. There was no way that I would let him get away with hittint Penney.

I pushed myself up off of my father when I got the chance and ran back upstairs, picking Penney up bridal-style and running into my room. I set Penney down on my bed and ran to my door, slamming it shut and locking it, startled by the sound of feet bounding up the staircase.

I ran over to my bed and hugged Penney close, doing the only thing I could do, covering her ears with my hands, trying to protect her from my father's incoherent screams.

After an hour or so, my father ceased his pounding on my door and slammed out the front door, grumbling something about a bar.

When I looked down at Penney, my heart broke. I saw a bright red cheek, and her nose was caked in dried blood. She'd been crying, and her face was red and splotchy.

I gently pulled her up into my arms and carried her into the bathroom, cleaning her face off with a wet washcloth and getting her a glass of water. We went back into my room and watched Cinderella. I'd always told Penney that she was more beautiful than Cinderella. It was her favorite movie, and it usually helped her fall asleep.

She didn't fall asleep this time, though.

Once the movie was over, I wordlessly pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head.

I would've told her that it was all going to be okay, that things would get better, but I didn't want to lie to her.