I Remember You - Frerard

Eight

"Exterminate" the cover of the sketchbook with the ripped pages read. The pages were littered all over my living room. I needed to buy a new mug, carpet and coffee table. Maybe not a glass one this time.

I quietly, yet quickly made my way up the stairs, the only light being the street lights outside and the glistening of the moon.

Once in the bathroom, I stood in front of the full length mirror and slowly started to undress myself.

My Smashing Pumpkins shirt hit the ground first.

My black and red striped shirt hit the ground first.

My messy, black hair covered most of my face, allowing me to "hide" myself in any kind of a social event.

My recently cut, natural brown hair stood up in several directions, seen as I ran my hands through it an awful lot today.

Next to hit the ground were my loose, black, ripped jeans, leaving me in my slightly dirty briefs.

Next to hit the ground were my tight, black jeans, leaving me in an equal tight pair of boxers.

I studied myself in the mirror. I am fat. Disgusting. No wonder no one likes me.

I studied myself in the mirror. I am fat. Disgusting. No wonder no one likes me.

The cuts from last night stood out against my pale skin. I scratched my nails over them, to get the scarlet liquid running down my left hand again.

The cuts from twenty years ago have faded into thin, white lines. They are camouflaged by the paleness of my skin.

I slowly pulled my briefs down. "It's so small. I don't think it's supposed to be this small."

I slowly pulled my boxers down. "It's so small. It's bigger than last time, but I think it still its supposed to be bigger than this."

A small year escaped my eye. I'm so pathetic. A small tear turned into more tears and before I realized I was sobbing on the floor.

A small year escaped my eye. I'm so pathetic. A small tear turned into more tears and before I realized I was sobbing on the floor.

I looked back up from my knees, which I clutched to my chest, only to see the biggest pansy I have ever seen. My eyes were slightly swollen and blood shot red. The bags under them were clearly visible and my eyeliner was completely smudged by crying.

I looked back up from my knees, which I clutched to my chest, only to see the biggest pansy I have ever seen. My eyes were slightly swollen and blood shot red. The bags under my eyes were clearly visible due to my forever lack of sleep.

I stood up and walked to the sink, washing away the tear stains on my cheek.

In between my tears stains was my nose. It was pointy. Too pointy. It was small and almost disappeared in my chubby face. Again, I am fat.

I walked back to the mirror and moved my head ever so slightly so I could have a look at my nose. It still was pointy but at least my face wasn't chubby anymore. It stood out and it looked good on my face. Nevertheless, I hate it.

I touched my face softly, wincing at the contact my soft fingertips made with the bruise Frank had made around my eye today.

I touched my lips softly, wincing at the thought of the anger filled kiss Frank and I had shared earlier this evening. He kissed back.. Does that mean he wants this just as much as I do?

My train of thoughts were stopped by a soft knock on the front door. Luckily, the person -presumably Frank- was smart enough not to ring the bell, in order not to wake my sleeping beauty.

I pulled my jeans back on and quietly descended the stairs again. I fixed my hair in the mirror next to the door and opened the door in a swift movement, the door -to my surprise- not screeching.

My eyes adjusted to the slight more light outside and it slowly became clear that it indeed was Frank who knocked on my door. He looked up, ever so slowly, and I saw the tear stains on his cheeks. New tears were forming in his eyes.

"Frank..." I managed to whisper before he launched himself at me.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so so sorry. Please, forgive me, I'm so sorry." He choked out between sobs. My naked shoulder slowly became wet with his tears as I tried to hold back my own.

A few moments passed before I realized I needed someone to comfort me and so did Frank. I wrapped my arms around his waist, holding on tight to the fabric of his plain black t-shirt. I buried my face in his neck and let my tears stream freely.

Frank slightly began to push me, though he never let go, leading me into my house, kicking the door shut after him.

After I heard the thud of the closing door, I let go of the back of Frank's shirt and wiggle out of his grip and flee into the kitchen. Frank's steps follow mine.

Appearently, he saw the living room. He let out a sharp gasp and I winced, waiting for his lecture. Only, the lecture didn't come.

"Where do you keep garbage bags, Gerard?" Frank asks me, almost whispering. I point at door under the sink and he gets my message. I, myself, turn to the coffee machine, to make me and Frank coffee -obviously.

When I walked into my living room after five minutes, preparing myself for the mess that was waiting for me, I found Frank on hands knees, picking up pieces of the shattered glass and the remains of my coffee mug. I placed the mugs against the wall and managed to choke out "I'm going to check up on Bandit" in a high, squeaky voice. Frank looked up, I probably startled him, smiled a slight, yet toothy, grin and nodded. "Okay" his reply was before he went back to picking up the glass.

The stairs made a slight creaking noise under my weight, but they've been doing that ever since Bandit and I moved in here. It's so much better than our old apartment, where we had to fear our lives. It was the most dangerous neighborhood of Belleville.

Bandit's door still was slightly open, so I leaned against the door frame, glancing in through the opening which had gotten bigger by the wind.

She laid under her covers, curled up and brown curls sprawled all over the white pillow. She was sucking the top of her thumb. A small tear escaped from my eye again, this time out of happiness.

Bandit was my world. I loved her to the moon and back and I really didn't know what to do without the little ray of freaking sunshine. She cheered me up whenever I needed it and she always was in a very contagious good mood.

"She's the cutest student I've ever had, and I've had fifteen classes..." A soft voice said behind me.

I turned around to face him and asked "how about you stay the night again and we skip the guest room part, seen our current emotional states."

"I would love that, Gerard." He smiled brightly at me.