Skin and Bones - Frerard

Not your average.

Guys it's Gee's POV now!

I climbed off frank's roof around 2 am.  We sat on the window ledge,  watching the stars.  drinking, wishing,  smoking. The three things I only do at this point.

I was driving home alone.  I didn't drink,  because I had to drive.  I was slowly turning to alcohol more and more when things got rough.  So,  I decided,  what's a shot going to hurt?

I pulled over,  and grabbed my small bottle of whiskey.  I tipped my head back,  and felt the relieving sensation of whisky on a throat raw from screaming.  I drove the rest of the way home,  my fingertips tingling and my throat pleading for mercy.

I pulled in,  and sure enough, there stood Mitch.  My scumbag of a "father". 
"Where were you this late?" He asks huskily.  I see a small bit of white powder resting inside his cupids bow. Cocaine.  I scan his arms,  fresh needle tracks like a goddamn subway map.  His hands are shaking, like he's paranoid.  How many drugs can one person do?!
"I was out helping a friend. " I answer,  glaring at him and all of his drug addiction. 
"Well,  it's past curfew.  You're grounded. " Mitch takes a step closer,  and I can almost taste the Bud Wiser on his breath.  I know I'm an alcoholic too,  but at least I drink nice alcohol.   His beer belly slams into my stomach.
"You better watch it.  The only reason I'm here is because my mom wants me here.  I'd leave the second I got a chance. " I stepped back into the threshold of the house,  trying not to explode.
"Oh yeah, Punk?!" He stomps in behind me,  and slams my arms on the wall.  I yelp as he bangs my broken arm on the wall with every word he speaks.
"You! Do! Not! Go! Out! Past! 10!" He screams,  so close to my face I could snort the coke off his lip if I tried.
"You lying motherfucker!  I do what the hell I want! It's not like you care if I live!" I shouted, twisting to pull out of his grip.  I managed to free myself and dash away to my room.

I cried and cried.  I wanted to run away again.  Take off with Frank and never ever look back.  I was happy as Party Poison. He was a leader,  never fearful, only feared.  Yes,  gang activity is illegal,  but he found a way around that.  They covered the world in colors,  painting the world with images of hope,  pain,  love and even just pure fun.  But those days were over.  He drew with cheap pencils and copy paper,  and nobody ever saw what he was drawing.  He'd made a name for himself,  and he wanted to get it back.  If only Frank knew....

Three weeks earlier

I dashed to frank's house, after he called me.  I opened the door and scrambled for the bathroom.  He was unconscious and there was blood everywhere.  I lifted him with surprising ease.  "how could I be so stupid?" I mutter. 
"Frank! Frank!" I shook him awake.
His eyes flutter open,  "what happened?"
"Frank,  you fell. We're taking you to the hospital. "
"k. "
"Frankie? How much do you weigh?"
"81. "
"that's not healthy"
He was asleep again.
We arrived at the er.  They took care if him quickly. He sat up in bed about an hour later
"fuck you.  You think you can come in like a night in shining armor and save me from myself? "

Present setting

I couldn't remember doing what I did for the longest time. I sat up in bed,  and climbed out the window.  I was gonna make a mark here in Jersey if it was the last thing I did.  I grabbed my backpack, and went to the best place I knew. 

I got to the building,  an old concrete hut thing on the top of make out point.  I pulled out my spray paint and went to work.