Demented

Two Years Of What?

730 days since Frank Iero arrived​. 731 days since his sixteenth birthday. Frank Iero was officially an adult. Frank Iero was officially declared irremediable.

  Were his parents still responsible for him? Couldn't Frank leave? Did Frank want to leave?

STATIC

No, he did not want to leave! Frank didn't want to be in the real world! Frank did not want to be separated from Gerard. Not Gerard, the selfish prick.

Maybe Frank needed to grow up. Refusing to live in the real world was a baby thing to do. You see, Frank really scared himself into believing that the whole world was after him. Frank hadn't seen the real world in two years.

"I hate you, Gerard!" he screamed out.

"I didn't even do anything!"

"You make me so confused!"

"I haven't said anything to you. I'm trying to fucking read! Go have your schizophrenic meltdown somewhere else!"

  "I'm not schizophrenic, asshole!"

"You act like it. Please. Leave." Gerard sat his book down and stared at Frank.

"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!"

"Why are you even mad at me? I haven't done anything to you!"

"I don't knooow!" Frank screeched.

"Just fucking leave."

Frank growled and let out a high pitched scream and left.

"Happy birthday to you, little bitch." Gerard went back to reading. ______________________________

Frank ate his apple pie at the the table he used to sit at with Jenny. He was wincing every two seconds and letting out moans of mental agony. Gerard and others were beginning to stare.

Tears streamed down his face and he gasped. "Fuuuuck!" He brought the carton of apple cider to his lips and let out a sob and the cider dripped down his chin. Frank's lower lip quivered. "I want to die."

Lindsey went to Gerard's table and sat next to him. "What's wrong with him?"

  "Hell if I know. He screamed at me for no reason earlier. It's probably a mental breakdown."

"It's his birthday, god damn, he should be happy. Mental illness doesn't take vacations though," she quickly added.

"You should ask him what's wrong."

  "No way. You should. He responds to you better."

  "Not anymore. He doesn't tell me shit. He keeps it to himself. ...Well, until he breaks down like this, but even that really isn't explaining anything. You should."

"But he scares me. Since he stabbed me and all."

Gerard shook his head. "I'm not planning on getting yelled at for no reason. He won't stab you again," he assured. "Frank wasn't Frank that day."

  "Who even is Frank?"

  "I'm honestly not sure. I used to know, but it's weird now. I don't think he's the person I was sure of. He's a strange little man."

"I'll go see what's wrong," Lindsey stated. "Wish me luck."

  Lindsey placed her hand on Frank's shoulder. Frank jumped up and turned his head. "Hi honey. Tell me what's wrong."

"I'm sorry!" he cried out.

  "For what?"

  Frank grabbed her arm and brought it down. He kissed her shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Lindsey kneeled and hugged him. "I forgive you."

  "But I stabbed you! I stabbed you!"

  "I know- but you weren't the real you. You weren't the Frankie I knew."

  "You really forgive me?"

"Yeah, baby. Now tell me what's wrong."

  "I don't know! Leave me alone!" He went from sad to raging within a second. "I hate you all!"
_____________________________

The room was dark with a blue tint coming from outside. Gerard sat against the wall, reading Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov. Frank was in his other room doing God knows what. Gerard was content and deep into the controversial book. At nine o'clock, Frank rushed through the door and slammed it. "Fuck!"

  "Shut up, retard!" Gerard demanded.

  "Don't tell me what to do!" Frank grabbed Gerard's book out of his hands, tearing the pages and threw it to the ground. Gerard sprung off his bed and grabbed Frank's arm, trying to control him.

  "What's wrong with you? Don't you dare try to ruin my peace!" Gerard let go of him.

  "You're a horrible boyfriend! I hate you!"

  "I haven't done a thing to you. Tell me what's bothering you."

"I-its not anything you did recently! You've ruined my life. And I hate you for it!"

"Fuck you."

  Frank shrieked. "Why do you hate me so much? Why do you like ruining my self worth?"

  Frank's mind was spinning. His brain was clouded. The things he said made about two thirds of sense to himself. Gerard couldn't take it anymore. He hadn't done anything bad in exactly thirteen days.

  "I don't hate you. If I hated you, we wouldn't be together! Stop screaming your head off at nothing. You're an adult now. Grow up, you're not a little boy anymore."

  "You're full of shit! You're an asshole and you're a dumb ass, you cocksucker!"

  Gerard brought his fist up. He punched Frank. Within a second, Frank fell to the ground, holding the inflicted area. He stayed propped up with support from the bed behind him.

  Gerard got to his knees. "I'm so sorry." Frank began crying. Gerard removed Frank's hand and looked at the area he touched. The top of his nose appeared to be fine. "Does it feel swollen?" Frank mouthed no. " I'm sorry, Frankie. I really am." Gerard pulled his head to his chest. "I'm not sincere about a lot of things- but for this- I really am. I'm sorry, baby."

  "I deserved it. I don't know what I'm doing. You haven't done anything. I'm just fucked up. My head is always filled up with confusing thoughts and irrelevant memories. I don't know how to deal with them. Everything goes so fast and I need to scream." Frank cried as Gerard held him.

   "You have a problem, but you don't tell anyone. You can't get help, so the problem gets worse. You attempt to deal with the problem on your own, yet there's no improvement. You lash out because you didn't get help and tried to do it all yourself. Is it a cry for help?"

  "No. It's not a cry for help. Not deliberately​, at least. But everything else you said is true."

  "Two years. Two years of what? You haven't learned how to deal with your problems even though it's been two years?"

A/N: Hi. Do you think Frank deserved to be punched? Why or why not?