I'm Not Okay: a Ferard fanfic based on Cancer and I'm Not Okay (I Promise)

Ch. 1: Frankie

A/n: so I wrote this fanfiction a few years back and somehow unearthed it from the wreckage of my disaster hole room haha.
I wasn't exactly the best writer (although I was only in 8th grade when I wrote it, lol). My point is, I'm sorry if it's bad, I was like 13 or 14 when I wrote this \●□●/
Okay, I'll shut up now.

Frankie's POV
"How could you? I can't believe--" Frankie's frame was racked over, shaking with sobs.

"I don't know what you mean."

"I saw the pictures, the ones y-your other boyfriend took." Frankie said, tears pouring down his face in a flash flood.
Her face crumpled - in guilt, in pain, in sadness. She took a step closer to him.

"You lied to me. Was I just a joke to you?" Frankie leaned against the wall, trembling, then slid down to the floor crumpled over on his knees.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, throwing herself down on the ground next to him and wrapping her arms around him tightly.

Frankie leaned into her familiar warmth, tangling his hands in her long, dark hair. They both shook; from love, betrayal, guilt, grief, heartbreak.

"Frank," she whispered. "Are you going to be okay?" The real meaning hung between them like a dense, poisonous fog: Are you going to be okay without me?
His hands, still in her hair, contracted into balled up, tight fists.

"No, I'm not going to be fucking okay, what the hell do you think?" He spat savagely. Abruptly, he shoved her away and unsteadily stood up.
His black hair fell around his face, framing it, and there were tear tracks on his cheeks. When he spoke agian, his voice was a dead monotone. "You can keep the house." He motioned to what was their house.

"Where will you go?"

Frankie walked over to a window and opened it and a breeze swept through the room. Deftly, Frankie snapped the screen to the window off and dropped it to the floor.

"Frankie? What are you doing?" asked his ex - lover nervously. He clambered up to the window, perched precariously on it.

"You wanted to know where I'll go?" Frankie asked, and she flinched at his voice: it was thick with raw pain and vulnerability. "Well, if it exists, Heaven."

And he threw himself out of the window.

The last thing he heard was someone screaming his name.