Emily, Please Don't Go Away

Seventeen

 Weeks had passed since the day of the hospital. I ended up having to drop out of school due to excessive absences. Gerard kept his word and was seeing a psychiatrist who diagnosed him with borderline personality disorder. He had been put on medication to help treat it, as well as weekly visits with a therapist. There were some really good days, where it seemed like it did at the beginning, but even with the medication and therapy, there were still really bad days. On those days, he was easy to depress or anger.

It was the latter of the two that I was currently recovering from. We had gotten into an argument over me getting a job. I was tired of sitting alone at home while he went to work. He didn't want me to leave the house without him. I wasn't sure if it was for my safety or because of his jealousy. One thing led to another, and a fight ensued.

I was sitting in the kitchen, nursing a busted lip and the beginnings of a black eye when he left for work. Shortly after he left, there was a knock on the front door. As I pulled it open, I was met by a visibly disturbed Frankie.

"Jesus Christ," he exclaimed. "What in the hell happened? You join a fight club or something?" I laughed nervously and shook my head. I didn't want him to worry, so I lied.

"Nah, slipped in the shower. I really need to invest in one of those little rubber mats." He pursed his lips and nodded, although I could tell that he didn't believe me.

"Right... I suppose it's also the house that's holding you hostage," he said sarcastically. I pushed the door open and waited for him to come inside. I shut the door behind him and headed back to the kitchen.

"Coffee?" I offered as I poured myself a cup. He shook his head.

"Nah, I won't stay long. I just wanted to check on you. You haven't left the house in weeks, at least not that I've seen."

"You just watch me?" I asked as I arched an eyebrow.

"No, nothing like that. My desk faces the street. That's where I do most of my work, so I tend to notice things that most people wouldn't," he explained nervously. I nodded as I took a drink.

"Ah, well... I'm fine. Just been busy. I've been trying to keep myself preoccupied so I don't think too much," I stated casually.

"Yeah, I hear that. Well, actually, I hear a lot. You guys are pretty loud. These old walls are thin, you know."

"I didn't, actually. Thanks for the heads up. I'll be sure to keep it down," I said as I took another drink.

"It's not so much you..." I knew what he was getting at.

"Look, I appreciate your concern, but I'm okay. Really." He clicked his tongue as he seemed to be thinking.

"I have this girl. She's a real good friend of mine. Well, she's with this guy, right? This dude is a total prick. He degrades her, treats her like shit, hits her, and then somehow, he makes her think that it's her fault. Well, she finally gets the courage to leave his ass, and then, he starts saying that he's gonna kill himself if she leaves," he says as he looks into my eyes.

"What happened with them?"

"She stayed for a while, scared that he'd actually do it. Well, the fighting got worse. She'd end up with bruises, broken bones, busted lips... Well, finally, she decided to leave him for good. She didn't care what he did once she was gone."

"Oh, wow. So, did she escape?" I asked as I leaned against the counter.

"She tells him, right? She says that she's done playing his games and tells him that she's gonna leave. He decides to take a goddamn baseball bat to her. Beats her so bad that she ends up in the hospital."

"Oh my God..."

"Unfortunately, she died a few days later from internal bleeding."

"Jesus Christ. I'm so sorry," I said quietly. He shook his head and wiped away a tear.

"Shit happens. I just wish that she'd have listened to me sooner. I guess that's why I'm so invested in a girl that I barely know," he said pointedly.

"I get what you're saying," I replied. It was the truth. I knew the point behind his story. I knew he was telling me that I needed to leave while I could. Part of me screamed to listen to him.

Unfortunately, the majority of me still believed that Gerard would get better if he stayed on his meds. That part of me thought that, if he did, life would go back to the fairy tale I thought I'd had. I was also terrified that, if I did leave, he would hurt himself or maybe even someone else, and that wasn't something I wanted on my conscience.

"It's complicated," I sighed. "He's getting professional help. In theory, as long as he stays on his medication, things will even out. I need to make sure that he's following their instructions."

"I get it," he muttered quietly. "Just promise me something, Emily."

"What's that?"

"Don't wait until it's too late."