"Holy shit." Gerard murmurs. I shoot him a wondering glance. "Okay, I'll tell Frank. Thank you," Gerard puts the phone down and stares at me. "Twelve other people were reported to have been abused by the guy matching his description. He's been around the country, beating kids of all ages, genders, races."
"Twelve?" I breathe. I feel like I can't breathe.
"And another five of them- same report but they- they didn't make it," he adds, making it ten times harder to breathe.
"He hurt seventeen others? And killed five of them?" I choke out.
"They called the twelve of them, and they'll be coming here sometime between tomorrow to Saturday. Just to see if he was the one that hurt them too."
"What's his name?"
"Phillip Lewis. And he's been to juvie, and spend 18 months for dealing illegal drugs."
"Trouble his whole life, huh?" I almost laugh. "I guess some people just don't change."
He puts his hand on my cheek. "He'll go behind bars for the rest of his life. Don't worry," he wipes away a tear.
"Thank you," I say before there's a knock on the door. Gee stands up. "Hi, who are you?" He says, walking out. He comes back up with the lawyer and another boy, probably our age. "Frank, this is Kellin Quinn. He went through the same thing you did. The lawyer just wants you two to be able to talk about it. It might feel better to tell someone who understands."
"Hi, Frank," Kellin waves shyly, pursing his lips. "It's been three years, and I've always dreamed of this. Being able to find him and throwing him behind bars," he says, a fire in his eyes or pure determination. "At least, if he's the right guy. But even if he isn't the one who screwed up my life, at least you'll get justice," he sighs. Gee and the lawyer walk out, closing the door behind them.
"Three years, huh? How do you get through it?"
He sits down. "I mean- you don't. It stays with you forever, like a scar. It'll never be gone, but it'll slowly start fading. Sometimes I think I'm over it, but other times I still feel it like it happened yesterday."
"What did he do to you? I assume beat you but-"
"He didn't just beat me. Elle told me a brief summary of your story, you got lucky. You got out before it could get worse," he shudders like he's reliving the memory again.
"Wait what-" I start to piece things together. He hugs his shoulders, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths. "Oh god, did he-"
"Yeah," Kellin nods hesitantly. "You got really lucky. You have people there for you. My mom tried to help me. But then she just gave up and threw me into a mental institution. But with some faking, you can get out quite quickly."
"I'm so sorry-"
"I'll be completely honest, I've heard those three words together so many times. It doesn't even mean anything to me. But thanks."
I scoot over, the dull ache from my ribs isn't going to stop me this time. I wrap my arms around him. He goes rigid before hugging me back. "It feels nice to tell someone who really understands," I whisper.
"It does, doesn't it?" He half-laughs. "We're going to meet the others at this hotel on Saturday. But for now, I'll be here to help you a bit, huh?" He says. He turns around and grabs a pen off the desk and a post-it note. "Here's my number, and seeing as though I don't actually live here, and have no clue where anything is, I'll be available at pretty much any time."
"Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I've only been here for a few months."
"More than three hours," he shrugs. "Maybe we should talk about something less... Depressing," he smiles. I nod. "What's... Your taste in music?"
"From Green Day to Queen."
"Wow, turns out we're quite similar... Other than being very unfortunate souls."
"Hey, at least I can say I'm not completely friendless now. I only have Gee, Mikey, and Ray. I guess I have another friend?"
"Yeah, it wouldn't hurt to have one friend in the world, even though I live about five hours away from here. Plane riding."
"Where are you from?"
"Medford, Oregon," he says. "New Jersey is cool though."
"Yeah, I've moved around a lot, but I'm hoping I get to stay here, however, my mom is going to jail, so I'll have to be homeless or something."
"Don't worry, something will happen. You'll get a good life one day. Especially after this," he says.
"Do you want me to come with you when you identify the guy?"
"I could use some moral support right now. I mean, everything just started rushing back to me as soon as I got the call. I don't know. It's a weird mix of relief and anxiety. I feel like I'm just holding my breath."
"I know what you mean."
YOU ARE READING
Neon Lights- Frerard
Fanfiction"What are you drawing?" I ask Gerard. He looks at me for a second. "Just some random sketch." He mutters in reply. He goes back to his drawing. I look over his shoulder. "It's really good," I whisper before sitting back down. He turns to me again...
