50 Thoughts That Scare Me (Rewrite)

Chapter 1- Tell Me What You Think Of Me

           Chapter 1- Tell Me What You Think Of Me:

Before I learned I had contracted a deadly illness at birth, things were okay, I attended school everyday,-I had the perfect attendance-I did my homework like I was supposed to, I was like the poster child, every parent dreamed of having such an obedient child like myself. But that was before the knowledge of my cancer. Here's how things went (before the cancer days)-

I rolled over on my bed, clicking the alarm off. I already knew what time it was. I always woke at this time exactly, 6:20Am. I sighed, I wish I had gotten more sleep; I was dead tired.

"Frank!" My dad yelled from downstairs.

My dad was great at being, well, a dad. My grandfather taught him how to play guitar, the drums, even the saxophone. He was an inspiration to me.

I slipped out of bed, tugging on a pair of jeans. I slept in my boxers like normal. I did the usual yawn and lazily walked down the stairs.

"Sleep well, Frankie?" My mom's soft voice greeted me. She stood over the stove, sporting her yellow apron.

"Not really, I'm stressed about school." I groaned.

It wasn't completely true, I never gave thoughts about things that went on during school. Hell, I don't even think or use my brain as much as a normal kid should. Being almost 14 has it's perks.

"Oh, well I'm sure there's nothing to worry about." My mom sat my plate off breakfast on the table. Vegetarian omelet.

I decided I wanted become a Vegetarian as a part of my New Years revolution. Not to mention I thought it'd make me stand out from all the other 13 year olds I knew that wouldn't have the will-power to give up eating bacon.

I sat down, still remaining shirtless, and began to dig into the omelet.

"Frank, did you hear about Mrs.Omneis?" My dad sat down at the table.

"No, what?" I asked through a mouth full of food.

Mrs.Omneis was hands down my favorite teacher. She taught music, and truth be told, she was probably my best friend. She was roughly at the age of 63, but she could still play guitar and sing well. Surprising, I wish I would be that talented when I'm old and wrinkly. My future holds more than I know.

"She's retired, I think." My dad had an odd look on his face, as if he was unsure about something. I guess my mom caught onto this as well because she then broke the awkward silence by saying, "would you like some pancakes?" To my father.

I shrugged and got up from the table, making sure to place my dirty dishes in the sink. I could feel another odd thing happening; this weird emotion that was creeping up on me.

I walked back up to my room and threw a shirt on. It was a The Ramones shirt. I smiled at the odds, they were one of my favorites. I combed my growing dark brown hair.

I never gave much thought about my hair either. I was a guy, I guess not giving a shit about your hair was normal. On the other hand, every girl I've ever known spends half their life on doing their hair. It's just hair, get over it.

I glanced at myself in the mirror. I didn't look half bad. I shrugged to myself and brushed my teeth. Really, that's all I did to get ready for the day. Half the time, I wore dirty jeans off my bedroom floor because I'd forget to do my laundry. Nothing a little Axe can't fix, right? Like I said, being 13 has it's perks.

I grabbed my backpack and walked down the stairs. The bus was to come soon, and I still felt like I could sleep for another 8 hours or so.

"Have fun at school, sweetie." My mom kissed my cheek. I could feel her thin layer of lip gloss or Chapstick rub off on my cheek.

"Eugh, mom." I whined and wiped my cheek harshly.

My mom shook her head and laughed, "what? I love you."

And then, just like that, the bus arrived. I sighed with being content that I had a reason to get out of another 'what, I love you,' conversation with my mom.

I climbed on bus #24 and sat in seat #15. I leaned against the window, my backpack taking up the rest of my seat. I watched as the outside world passed me by, it looked as if it was going to rain.

I watched as people gathered onto the bus, shielding themselves from the light morning rain. Out of the corner of my eyes I could see Brittany Wheeler and her friends looking at me and giggling.

"He is super cute." I heard one of the girls giggle.

"Super hot, I think you mean." Brittany herself said.

I rolled my eyes as I felt someone's body weight sink into the seat next to me, they placed my backpack next to their feet on the floor.

"Yes?" I asked in a hoarse voice.

"Hi." This girls small, shy voice said.

"Hi." I finally looked over at her. She was attractive, to say the least. She had brown hair and sparkling eyes.

"I'm Jamia." She spoke, attracting my eyes to hers.

"I'm Frank, not to be rude, but did you need something?" I asked, raising my eyebrow in confusion.

"No, I just wanted to tell you that I think you're cute." She blushed.

Now as a 13 year old, being able have someone attracted to you is overwhelming in the good way. It's like your world is getting better some way. It's every pre-teens dream to be attractive. But it's not like I was wanting a girlfriend, though Jamia was one of the hottest girls in the school. Not too thin, just right.

Someone had taken the seat right next to my seat. I could look across the bus isle and see a boy a little older than me slumped against his window as well. He had dark brown hair, almost black, long and covering his face. I could see a younger boy, assuming that was his brother because they both got on at the same time, lean over his seat. "Gerard, guess what?" I heard the younger boy say just loud enough for me and apparently Gerard to hear. "Not now, Mikey." Gerard mumbled and slumped further in his seat.

I've never really seen these two, Gerard and Mike, on the bus before. Their faces and voices were foreign. I mean, they could've rode this bus and went to my school since forever, but I had never noticed.

The Gerard kid, he looked unpleased, sad, in an odd mood. I was confused, I wanted to know more. I want to know why-

"Frank?"

My head snapped back to looking at Jamia's face. "Yes?" I gulped, worried she saw me staring at Gerard.

"Are you okay? You look pale." She said saddened and worried.

"I'm fine, just a little sick."

Little did I know "I'm fine, just a little sick," would soon become my life story.

I sighed and looked out the window, ignoring the fact that one of the most beautiful girls I've seen was sitting right next to me. I was too lost in thought.

I wanted to know more about Gerard, it was something about his aura. He looked mischievous, interesting, mysterious. I wanted to get inside of his head, figure out why he was putting off this look that just screamed "IM NOT INTERESTED IN YOUR BULLSHIT!"

But then, I came to my senses. I never thought as much as I was now. I didn't want to think about the consequences or any of that. I didn't want to be scared of the outcome of trying to attempt to figure out the mess that is Gerard. So I stopped. I then proceeded to forget about Gerard.

A/N- So, tell me what you guys think so far. (This is like Frank looking back to the day he first met Gerard, so this isn't present tense yet.) I hope you like it, maybe even better than the original?