i'm // not // okay ☼ f.i. + g.w.

IV

"you're a fucking fag gerard." brian spat at me as i walked through the school doors.

"look at him, he even walks like a queer." one of his minions said and i focused on the cement sidewalk under my dirty converse shoes.

"hey, where do you think you're going way?" i didn't answer.

"you better answer me you fucking faggot. or are you just as brain dead as your little fuck buddy. huh?" brian turned to look at his laughing friends, a prideful smile plastered over his face.

i couldn't take it anymore, i just snapped. i whipped around and punched him right in his smug homophobic little face.

"fuck." he yelled grabbing his bleeding nose and bending over in pain. "what the fuck? get him." brian screamed pointing at me. his friends looked shocked and didn't move a second before realizing what he wanted and lunging towards me. i tried to run away but what of them pulled my back pack and i fell hard against the cement. suddenly they were all around me, kicking, spitting, laughing loudly like the sadistic ass holes they were.

every part of me ached as i made my way to the car. i needed to get home. the only thought racing through my head was the fact that everything they said, every single word, was true.

i'm just some gay piece of shit that doesn't deserve to live anymore. the world is better off without me.

and we all know it.

•••

i laid on my bed the empty pill bottle in my left hand, vodka in the other.

i swallowed them all. every last white chalk coated ibuprofen.

i sat there. just waiting for the inevitable. this was what i wanted. i've wanted it for so long but i was never able to admit it.

i've been tormented, abused, picked on, spit on and shoved to agree. and for what? nothing. i had nothing.

images of frank flashed through my mind. his smile, his laugh. the way he used his teeth to pull his lip ring into his mouth when he was nervous. his hair in the morning, and his eyes. whenever i would say his name.

like everything he ever needed to hear was held in that one syllable.

the thought of him lying, still and pale, on the hospital bed came next. his chapped lips, the dark circles under his eyes. the iv sticking obscenely out of his arm.

i pushed the thought away and focused on the darkness.

i closed my eyes as my mind drifted far far away. until i was left with nothing. just like i always wanted.