When Gerard Way, the emo loner, finds notes in his locker signed 'Xofrnk', he is confused as to who sent them. But as time goes on, he becomes curious. Why would anyone put notes through his locker? And who the hell is Frank?
Btw, this is really awf...
I put my earphones in my ears and turned up my music. I honestly had no idea what I was listening to and I didn't really care: I just needed to listen to anything to drown out the thoughts in my head.
I could feel people shoving me as I was still stood in the middle of the corridors but they could suck my dick for all I care. I couldn't give less of a shit about anything other than the boy who disappeared a few minutes ago. I couldn't get him out of my head. He was obviously very good looking and hung around with the people who wished me dead, so why did he want anything to do with me? I didn't make sense.
And he also said almost the exact same thing that Frank had said in his last letter, about the person who beat up my brother being his only friend. Maybe he knew him? I could ask if I ever saw him again.
The thought of seeing him again excited me: he was the first person I'd ever spoke to besides my brother since I left middle school. I always thought that I didn't want friends but maybe I did.
Or maybe I just wanted him.
I felt someone ran into my back and push me against the floor. Due to the unexpectedness of the attack, I narrowly missed hitting my face on the floor and thanking God that I didn't have my hands in my pockets so I could move them quick enough to save me from hitting my nose on the floor.
I stood up as quickly as possible and took my headphones out of my ears, slightly pissed that someone had dare disrupt the screaming that was blessing my ears. I put on a fed up face and turned around to look at who had shoved me; surprise, surprise bitch, it was the one and only Billie Joe Armstrong, back to make my day even worse. If possible.
"I thought you would have had the common sense to leave, fag boy, rather than staying and letting me have round two. But oh well, it's not a problem for me. Saves money on a punch bag I guess." He snarled. Bearing in mind that I'm tired and my head still hurt from the last time he had decided that he wanted to beat the shit out of me, my brain didn't comprehend what he was saying. I just stood there a stared at him for a few seconds; until he punched me in the stomach and I doubled over in pain. Once again, I was going to go home with a shit ton of bruises by the hand of Billie. Fucking rad.
I stood up and saw red. I don't know what hit me (except Billie) but I felt my fist ram into his eye socket; I think that hurt me more than it did him. The look on his face, however, showed pure anger.
"That will be the last time you ever touch me you fucking fag." He roared. I felt his large hand grab my neck and pin me against a locker. I struggled to catch a breath as he squeezed tighter and tighter, my world going fuzzy and my head going light. I was in agony and I felt my eyelids drop, preparing myself to pass out again. I had given up fighting against him, I knew from my years of enduring this that it was worthless. I gradually felt my body go more and more numb until all I saw was black, and my world faded away.
At least now I was in peace. No one could hurt me now.
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸Hey anyone who is still reading this: why??? Also I'm sorry for not updating for ages, I have plans for the future and know what in doing there but Ihaven't got a clue what to do here so bear with me
It will get better, you just need to deal with this 😅
Also, why have12 ppl read the first part and 22 read the second part, like
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Anyway, thanks for reading. I wasnt expecting anyone to in all honesty 😅
