Losing a Winning Battle

13

-***1 Months Later***-

Gerard's P.O.V
The guys were holding me back as I shouted for Sylvia, I wanted to help her. She doesn't remember fully anything yet, but they said she was allowed to go live with her father. No! He will hurt her. She doesn't seem to remember him, but when he came to pick her up, something flickered in her. A look of disgust flashed onto her face then the look of terror as she was dragged away. Later that night I was haunted by Sylvia's screams and pleads to stay. I hold my pillow over my mouth as a cry out. My vision became blurry as tears poured down my cheeks. I then poured myself a shot of tequila and then finished the whole bottle. I was slightly drunk, take that back, really drunk. I stumbled back to my room and I hear Miles open his door. I quickly dove on my bed, I didn't want my little brother to see me like this. Not now. I was a hero in his eyes, I never cried. I crawled off my bed and grabbed my phone. I dialed Franks number. "F...Fr-ankie" I whimper slightly into the phone. He doesn't answer and hangs up, in less than five minutes I hear my door creak open slightly. I hold my head into my pillow the world seemed to spin off its tilt. "Gerard? What's wrong," Franks' voice says. I felt myself let out the breath I was holding and let out a soft sob. Franks arms wrapped around me. Frank looked into my bloodshot eyes and sighs. "Gee, you gotta wait it out, I'm- I'm sure she's fine," Frank whispers. It sounded like he was trying to believe his words himself. Frank closed the door quietly and sat me on his lap, rocking me gently back and forth. "Gee, please don't touch a bottle ever again, please," Frank whispers authority in his voice. I lightly whisper giggle drunkenly, "Frankiiiieeee, don't worry 'bout me." Frank sighed obviously knowing how drunk I was. He went to go stand up and I grabbed his wrist. "Fraaaannnkkkiiiiiiiieeeee don't go!" I squealed a high pitch girly one. Frank wasn't going to leave me but he did pull off his shirt and curl up next to me on my bed. He refuses to sleep with a shirt, he's been that way ever since I  knew him. I playfully poke his cheeks. Yup, I'm totally drunk.