Fight Fire with Fire (Frerard)

32. I Can't Take Another Step, Please Tell Me I Am Not Undone

The air was thick with silence. An unnerving sense of worry and confusion. He didn't know what to say for two days. He didn't utter a word to me. He didn't even look me in the eyes. He treated me as if I were fragile. Not fragile like a flower, but fragile like a bomb.

Over the two silent days, I took the time to plan my escape. I need to get out of this waste of a life. I want out. I need out.

"Gerard, baby, I'd like a word with you." Mom knocks on my bedroom door.

I look up from my sketch book. I am in the middle of drawing a forest. Perhaps I'll hang off a tree? No. There is no way in hell I can climb a tree, let alone successfully tie a noose.

I'm Gerard, remember? The hopeless boy with no future. It's not like I am fit enough to climb a fucking tree. What a joke!

"Now." I hear mom call as I roll my eyes.

Frank is out with his friends from school, and dad is at the church. I'm thankful I am not at the stupid church.

Do you understand how embarrassing it is that Frank now knows what type of sinful shit happens to me?

Oh god, I can't think about it, or I might just throw up.

I move out of my room, going down the stairs with a cold expression. I don't think I've smile much lately. I can't even remember the last time I had a genuine smile or felt like I didn't want to fling my useless body in front of oncoming traffic.

"Sit down baby." Mom and I sit at the table.

"Is this mine?" I ask, motioning to the hot coffee in front of me.

She nods, "You seem tired."

I disregard her comment, taking a sip of the hot drink. Maybe this is my last coffee...

"So...what's up?" I shrug, feeling uncomfortable under mom's stare.

Her eyes are full of worry as she looks away from me, to her coffee.

"Baby, I...You seem to be different lately. More...I don't know...self-destructive?" She mumbles, eyes falling back on me.

I shrug it off, "Nope. I'm still me."

She sighs, "The bruises you had, and what Frank said about someone um, someone abusing you..." Her eyes fill with tears, making my heart sink into a pit of guilt for causing this sadness in my mother's eyes, "w-was he right? I-Is someone hurting you?" Tears fill my eyes as I look away.

"No." I reply weakly.

I feel myself on the brink of crumbling as I bite back the tears. I can't let mom know. That is out of the question.

"Gerard, look at me." She sounds like she's gonna cry.

I refuse to look at her. I can't bring myself to look into those fucking sorrowful eyes. I caused this. I caused all this heartache. Why am I even fucking living? I'm a monster. I deserve all of this. I deserve all the pain I get.

"O-Oh god, is s-someone h-hurting my-my baby!" I hear mom sob out, causing my eyes to widen and flick to her.

Her shaking hands cover her eyes as she cries.

"Mom...I-" Her desperate voice cuts me off, making me feel worse.

"You're spiraling out of c-control Gerard. I-you-you always smell like cigarettes, y-you have been partying all the-the time, and...and...this isn't you. You never used t-to be like this. You are s-so depressed, and I can't bare t-to see my son b-bruised and not w-wanting to live." She cries out as I feel tears fall down my face.

"I-"

"W-Who is hurting you Gerard? I-I can't stand to go another d-day not knowing wh-what is going on with my s-son. You c-can tell me." She sounds desperate as my eyebrows furrow.

"No one is. Anyway, what makes you suddenly care?" I spit, wiping the tears off my flushed cheeks.

Her face is tired and aged.

"I've always cared. I just...I didn't realize it was-it was this bad. I found a bag of your clothes in the bin. They had blood on the back of the jeans."

"You searched through the bin?" I tremble, confused on what to say, to make her not know the truth.

She shakes her head, wiping her eyes, "It was put in the wrong bin. I-what was the blood from?"

I try to think of a lie.

"I fell..." I choke out, watching mom bite her lip.

"So, you fell and...and was bleeding from your-"

"Mom, I am fine. Don't worry about me." I lie.

She shakes her head, "Don't lie to me Gerard. I know something is going on. I can tell. Ever since two days ago when you and Frank got home from the church, I could see something happened between you both. Frank's been acting out, angry and you've just been silent. Depressed."

I swallow thickly. What do I say?

"Now I'll ask again, expecting the truth. Is someone hurting you?"

I shake, "N-No."

"Is it someone at school?"

"No."

"Frank?"

Tears begin to pour out of my eyes, as I harshly stand up, knocking the chair back from under me, and spilling my coffee all over mom's white tablecloth.

"NO MOM I'M FUCKING FINE! FANTASTIC! COULD'NT BE BETTER!" I scream.

Before mom could reply, I turn rushing to the front door.

"Gerard!" Mom calls out but it's too late.

I swing the door open, moving out of the house in a rush. I need to get away from her. Away from everyone and everything.

I don't even notice the cold air, as I run down the street.

While running, I look back, seeing my house disappear in the distance.

"Fuck!" I groan as I hit into someone.

My tear filled, blurry eyes look in front of me, at the person I ran into.

Frank

"Gee, what's wrong?" He questions, taking in my crumbling appearance.

I shake my head, silently choking on my sobs. His eyebrows furrow as I try to move around him. I feel his strong hands grip my arms, pulling me back in front of him.

"F-Frank, let m-me go." I cry.

His worried eyes stare at me, "What happened?"

I shake my head, sobbing out in defeat.

"I-I cant. I can't d-do this a-anymore." I sob as he pulls me into a hug.

Warmth fills my shaking body as I cry into his shoulder. I try to move out of his grip but fail.

"Shhh. You're okay. It's okay. I-you're safe." He whispers into my ear, making my body relax into the hug.

I sob, letting all my emotion out into this poor boy's shoulder.

It's all my fucking fault. All I do is make others feel bad. Why do I do that? Wreck people's lives?

"Let's go home, Gee." We pull apart as I sniff, wiping my red and sore eyes.

I feel electricity flow through my hand as he interlaces his fingers with mine, holding my hand tight and rubbing his thumb on my soft milky skin.

We walk back to the house, silently. This is the first time since he found me getting abused, that he's spoken to me.