Emily, Please Don't Go Away

Twenty

 I watched out the window as he drove out of sight. As soon as I was certain he had hit the main road, I snuck out the backdoor and hopped the fence in the backyard. I ran to the side door and knocked frantically. The door jerked open.

"Hey, what's going on?" Frankie asked. The concern flooded his eyes as he looked me over.

"I need to leave. Something is very, very wrong. His meds aren't working, and we both know it. He almost killed me, and he's scared that he's actually going to," I explained. He arched his eyebrow in confusion.

"Wait, he knows? What, is he Jekyll and Hyde?"

"I guess. I don't really know, but he told me that I need to leave... He is terrified that he's going to kill me."

"Okay... Well, at least he is sane enough to realize that it's a possibility. Alright, go pack your stuff. I'm going to make some calls. We're going to get you out of there. What time does he usually get home?"

"I don't know. Usually between four and five, I guess. It depends on the work for the day," I stammered as the anxiety kicked in.

"Okay. So, we have a few hours. I promise I will get you out of there before then," he assured me. "Go and pack. I'll be over there as soon as I figure this out."

"Okay," I agreed as I backed down the steps. I headed back into my house and quickly began to pack. I grabbed my essentials and some things that couldn't be replaced. After I had packed, I took my ring off and set it on the counter. I grabbed a sheet of paper and a pen, and I began to write a letter for him.

Gee,

There have been some rough times in the last two years, but they weren't all bad. We have made some amazing memories. Our first date, the Christmas I pretended to be your girlfriend, the day you proposed, our wedding, our honeymoon... Those are the ones that I'm going to choose to remember. I want to remember the times when you were the Gerard that I fell in love with.

Please, remember those moments, not the bad ones. I really hope you can get the right kind of help. I hope that they can help you find yourself again. I know that you aren't the angry, aggressive man that I've seen here lately. You are so much more than that. Please, get better. If not for me, then do it for you. I love you, Gerard Arthur Way, and I'm sorry that

Without warning, the door swung open. A seething Gerard stood menacingly in the doorway. I stared in fear as he slammed the door shut.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He whispered as he looked at the bags on the floor. I took a shaky breath.

"I.." The words wouldn't come out.

"What's that?" He pointed to the letter I was writing and my ring on the counter. I tried to hide it quickly, but he grabbed my wrist and pried it from my hand. As he read over it, I saw the mixture of agony and rage in his eyes. He looked back to me as he dropped the paper. "You're... You're leaving me?"

"Gerard, I-"

"No!" He shouted. I tried to run past him, but he grabbed my hair, jerking my head back. He pulled me close and growled in my ear. "You aren't going anywhere."

"Let me go," I strained as I tried to pull away. He slammed me against the wall, his hand tight against my throat. The twisted smile found its way back to his lips.

"I will never let you go," he laughed bitterly. I struggled to breathe. In a last ditch effort, I kicked him in the balls as hard as I could. He dropped me, and we both fell to the floor. I scrambled to my feet and ran for the door, but before I could reach it, he grabbed my leg. I fell hard against the floor.

"Let go!" I cried as I kicked at his face. He managed to roll me over onto my back, and he straddled my waist. His hands returned to my neck, much tighter than before. He shook me aggressively, slamming my head into the floor repeatedly.

"You will never leave. I won't allow it," he hissed. I attempted to hit him, but my actions were to no avail. He laughed, mocking my struggles. For whatever reason, I spat at him, and his mood shifted back to anger, and his hand connected forcefully with my face.

"Get off," I choked out. He hit me again. I felt the blood on my face, although I wasn't certain where it was coming from.

"Get the fuck off of her," a voice shouted. Gerard stood up and stared him down angrily. I tried to sit up, but he dug his heel into my chest.

"And if I don't?" Gerard spat at him.

"I'll make you regret it." I watched as Gerard arched his brow in amusement. He calmed walked off towards the kitchen, and Frankie ran over to me. "Get up. I'm getting you the fuck out of here." He helped me to my feet.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Gerard laughed. We turned to look at him, and I saw the blade in his hand. Franked bowed his chest and stepped forward.

"Frankie, don't!" I cried. He looked down and saw what I was trying to warn him of. He stepped back cautiously.

"This guy? Are you fucking kidding me? You can't be serious," Gerard groaned. "I'm way better than this prick ever could be. Yet, you leave me for him?"

"At least I wouldn't hurt her," Frankie spat. Before I could say anything, Gerard lurched forward and thrust the blade into his side.

"Frankie!" I felt the panic in my chest. Gerard pulled back and stabbed him again. I ran over to them. "Gerard! Stop it!"

"Why? So, he can just take you from me?" He cried. Frankie fell to the floor as he pulled it out, and as he went for a third, I stepped in front of Frankie, shielding him. I felt the icy burn as the blade entered my chest. A warm stream of blood ran down my chest and dripped onto my arm.

"Ow," I whimpered. His eyes grew wide as his breathing stopped. He dropped the blade and fell to his knees.

"Oh, God... Oh my God... What have I done..." He choked. I reached for my phone and dialed 911. After I struggled to explain what happened to the dispatcher, I dropped the phone and pulled Frankie into my arms. "Is he..." I leaned my head on his chest and heard his quiet, shallow breaths. I sat up and looked at Gerard.

"Not yet," I stated coldly. He nodded as he sat back on his heels and rocked back and forth. Sirens sounded from outside. His expression showed how terrified he was. Within seconds, the door was kicked in, and cops surrounded him with their guns aimed. As one pulled him to his feet, another put him in cuffs. He never broke eye contact with me. I saw the fear in his eyes. Before they hauled him out the door, he stopped in front of me. A single tear rolled down his cheek.

"I'm so sorry, Emily."