Chapter one - white

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Chapter one – white

Just so you know, other than Fear of Falling (which was absolutely shit and I gave up on), this is my first ever Frerard. Please don't be too hard on me /.\

Anyway. Here you are, my lil skittle whores. The first chapter. Enjoy! <3

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I pushed the window open, wincing when it creaked and pausing to check that nobody had heard. When I didn't hear any footsteps or signs that I had woken my mom, I carefully positioned one leg over the windowsill and hauled myself inside. But despite my careful attempts to stay quiet, I fell through the window and landed in a crumpled heap on the floor, knocking over a conveniently positioned pile of school books stacked on the carpet.

"Shit," I hissed as the books crashed to the floor, and I tried to stay completely still and hold my breath as to not cause any more noise until a few moments had gone by.

But just as I was letting out a shaky breath and slowly pulling the window shut, the echoing, dull sound of footsteps across the hallway filled my ears and I jumped and swore again. I abandoned the window and scrambled into bed as fast as I could.

I hit my knee on the bedpost, "Fuck!" but still managed to wriggle under the covers and curl up in a ball so I could clutch at my knee while pretending to be asleep.

"Frank?" my mom called from the hall. She opened the bedroom door. "Frank?" I could already hear the irritation in her voice. "Frank Anthony Iero," she said firmly. "I know you're awake. Your window is open."

Fuck. She sounded angry.

"You were sneaking out again. I know it." There was a pause. "Open your eyes, for god's sake, I know you're awake."

I tentatively opened my eyes to the sight my mother frowning at me heatedly.

"You were out in the incastum, weren't you?" she asked, taking a step closer. "With those disgusting blacks."

"No," I lied. "I swear I wasn't."

"Save your lies for the council. Let me see your arms," she snapped.

"What?" I spluttered. "No! And you're not seriously going to the council about this. What are they even going to arrest me for?"

"I don't know, assisting blacks in committing crimes, or whatever it is they do? Now, Frank. I am your mother," she said, shaking with fury and revulsion. "Do as I say and show me your arms."

I sighed and reluctantly rolled up my sleeves. The pure white skin of my arms had faded black smudges in the shape of fingerprints where Renée had grabbed onto my arm, trying to climb over the incastum wall. She had only touched my arm through the fabric of my shirt, but there were still dark marks like bruises or stains of ink tainting the snowy flesh.

"You," my mother spat. "You disgusting little– I can't believe you went there again! One time I could tolerate. You're curious. All children are–"

"I'm not a child, mom! I'm sixteen!"

"You're a child until you're married and living with your wife. And knowing you and your reputation with women, you won't ever be married."

I sighed. I considered bringing up the reason I got along with so many girls as friends but it turned out a disaster when we ever tried anything more, but then decided against it. I didn't want my mom getting any angrier than she already was. There was only so much of my mother's rage I could endure.

My mom sensed the conversation drifting somewhere else and slapped my cheek. I didn't hurt much, but I still flinched.

"Back on topic," she snapped. "How many times have you been over there? Sneaked out at night behind my back?"

I shrugged. "A few."

"A few? Meaning more than two? You've been talking to them, spending time with them, even risking being seen in the incastum with those revolting blacks? I don't understand you, Frank. Are you just trying to find some way to rebel? Because this isn't the right way. I'm only telling you this to protect you, Frank. There's a reason we are white and pure, and they are black and dirty. There is a reason they stain our skin. That we're shamed if others see those stains. They're bad people, Frank. They're disgusting. And I want you to stop going to the incastum to see them."

"But they're my friends," I said weakly.

"Just leave them, Frank. Go and hang out with your friends from school. And stop sneaking out at night. It's for your own safety."

Though I was tempted to tell her that I didn't have any friends at school, I kept my mouth shut and just nodded.

Maybe I could just tell her I was going to visit friends from school when I was really going to the incastum. It would be risky and potentially dangerous trying to go there in broad daylight without being seen, but it would be worth it. Despite what everyone at school said, and what my family said, and what pretty much every other white in existence said, the blacks were brilliant people. They were all so intelligent, and creative, and civilised, unlike all the ruling whites who were in charge of us and who my mother supported so strongly.

But the candidus council were corrupted, and everyone knew it. We were all just too afraid to say anything.

Or too stupid.

I could never tell the difference.

I waited for my mom to leave my room and close the door before anxiously pulling my shirt over my head to examine my body for any more black stains.

It wasn't like what my mother said had got to me. She had made me realise– she wasn't being anywhere near as hard on me as other people would. She was my mother. She was being kind. If the kids at school saw the black marks on my arms, they would... I didn't even want to think about what they'd do to me.

Even the teachers wouldn't mind verbally abusing me, or physically hurting me if they were feeling particularly brave. The council always overlooked black-vs-white related crimes if it was the whites who were in the wrong.

There had been one case at a school not far from mine where a teacher had caught a student with a black handprint on their neck and beat them up so hard they had to spend weeks in hospital.

You would think that would scare me straight, but it just made me furious. And it made me want to go back to the incastum. It made me want to stand up for the blacks, and fucking smash anyone who thought they were inferior and deserved to be treated like vermin; kept in cages, spat on and kicked around by whoever felt like it.

It was horrible. So I decided that I was going back to the incastum, every night I felt like it. To hell with the council. To hell with my mom. To hell with any bastard that tried to mess with me. I was going back, and nothing was going to stop me.

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