Cemetery Drive

My point of view

  Gerard was up early in the morning. He made himself and I some coffee and left in a hurry. I wasn't offended he wanted to leave. I was relieved. I didn't want that innocent kid to be near someone as fucked up as me. My police record doesn't help. It isn't bad to be honest it's just mostly trespassing.

People often call the cops on me when I got to the cemetery after hours and what's worse is that they think I don't have a family member buried there. I don't, but I have my reasons to be there. Nobody understands how at ease I feel, with nothing, but the calm surroundings of the cemetery.

It makes me think. That's where we are all heading there one day. Some sooner than others and some once again. I believe in reincarnation. It also makes me think; they the ones who claim to be normal and not afraid of anything, they fear. More than some admit.

Me sitting alone in a cemetery, with tombs to keep me company isn't any of their concern. They try to rationalize everything, yet they never take the time to feel. To see how I see the world. I just wanted to enjoy my life without having to worry about some asshole. Apparently, I couldn't get that.

Lately to the eyes of the police, and the public I am nothing but a necrophilia freak who trespasses into the cemetery for some fun action. I cringed, I physically cringed when I saw that on my record. That's exactly what a 19-year-old kid would want on their record, besides I don't know not existing?

Aside from trespassing I was accused for vandalizing the cemetery, which I can't deny I didn't do. I know I have this big respect for the dead and they're home, but I had to ruin one specific grave. I just had to. I also got accused for kidnapping.

I was walking to the cemetery one day and when I got to the mausoleum there was a girl crying and tied up. I ran up to her and helped her out, but she mistook what I was doing and turned me into the cops. Luckily, I got off easy and they said the girl was on drugs, so they believed me over her.

I did feel sorry for the poor girl taking drugs. She must've had a bad life, but from how clean her hair was I doubt it. From how her parents were, I think she was just an over-dramatic teen with nice parents.

If she was anything like me growing up then she would have the reason to do drugs, but she doesn't. I don't like to think about my life to be honest. I am still amazed on how I can remember it so clearly even though it was many years ago. Aside from that the world looks about the same except for technology and new clothing.

I must say the way people behave and talk aren't different from when I was a kid, I might be 19, but things are different when I was around.

It got me thinking about Gerard. He reminds me of myself a lot. I find it horrifying on how much we were a like. I know I just met the boy yesterday, but I could tell I knew we were alike. I feel sorry for Gerard. He is innocent and almost got killed because he didn't love this Bert dude back.

He might have been dead if I wasn't there to do something. I might not be......Sorry I got off track. The point is that Gerard should be lucky that I was there to save him. I haven't gotten the poor kid out of my head since I saved him. He seems terrified of life.

He already had a few bruises on his face that were a bit faded, so I can see he was abused by, what I believe is Bert. The dude was ready to kill him, so there's no doubt he did those bruises on his face. As to the bruises on his neck, I am sure they were hickeys. They weren't appealing. Bert must've taken advantage of the poor kid.

I was far too gone in my own thoughts to even notice the one and only Gerard sitting next to me in the mausoleum. I looked at him and he had a half smile on his face. I think it's because of the busted lip.

"Hi." He said shyly with a sketchbook on his lap.

"Hey." I returned quietly.

He smiled a bit, struggling to do it and turned away to open his sketchbook. I burned out my cigarette and closed the book I was somewhat paying attention to and looked at what he was drawing. I didn't get a good look, because he moved away. I frowned, disappointed.

"I can't see your art?" I asked.

"It's not done yet. I don't want it to be seen till it's done." He said a bit stubborn.

"Alright then. If you need me I will be outside." I said and got up, picking up my book.

I made my way to the door cursing myself for trying to be friends with him. All I will do to him is get him hurt and I don't want that. He is too innocent for this world and is mistreated for it. I was halfway out the door until he called out for me.

"Please don't leave me alone Frank." He whined.

I turned around and raised a brow. Why does he care if I leave? From what I know he has been in here before many times all alone. Why does he need company?

"You've been here alone before. Why do you need company now?"

"I don't have any friends, and Bert and his group don't count. You seem genuinely nice and I think we can be friends." He said a bit sad.

I sighed and closed the door and walked up to sit next to him. I could tell he wanted to smile, but his face probably hurts a lot from the busted lip.

"How old are you?" I asked.

"23." He said, chewing his pencil as he thought of something.

He looked at me, making eye contact, setting his book down.

"What about you? You seem younger than me."

"19." I said shyly.

"Only 19!! How?!" He said, his jaw dropping.

"What?"

"How can someone whose 19 be so cu-crazily amazing on stabbing someone?" He said blushing a bit.

"Can we not talk about me stabbing him?" I said uncomfortable.

"Y-Yeah, s-sorry." He said looking down.

"It's fine...."

It's fine that he doesn't know. It's fine that he will never know. I think it's best that he stays away from me and I stay away from him, but there's something keeping me from leaving him. He is so much like me and that scares me and it makes me want to watch over him; and keeping my secret away from him I can assure he will be safe. At least I hope so....