.weighted. //frerard

.empty hospital halls.

GERARD's POV

I raced through the hallways, bumping into nurses and staff members while I struggled to keep moving forward fast enough. My shoes squeaked against the sterile linoleum floors of the hospital. 

Stopping abruptly and grabbing on the door frame to steady myself, I peered into the room I had been desperately searching for. The cold autumn air from outside still burning my lungs and parching my throat. For once I didn't pay any attention to my own pain and slowly opened the door, making sure it wouldn't creak. The windows were covered with lacy blue curtains and just to the side of it was what I had been looking for...

In the bed beside the window, someone's small frame could be seen under the blanket. Looking closer you could see that it was the very boy I had been obsessed with for far too long. 

He looked peaceful while asleep. It still pained me to see the pain etched into his face that never showed, not unless you knew him. His arms were above the blanket, one at the side and one laying loosely over his abdomen. Convincing myself to look closer, I felt a pain in my chest as I saw what he had done. 

His left arm was stitched back together in various places, where the 4 gashes he had made previously were. I held back a choked sob and sat down by the bed, making sure to stay quiet. He shouldn't have to see me after what I made him do. It was best to just go as soon as I could, so I reached into my pocket for what I knew he would recognize. 

Pulling out the piece of paper, I began to write with one of my drawing pencils. 

"Frank, 

I wish we never met. I wish I had never become this person, and I wish I could take away the pain I caused you for so long. I've done awful things to you and I'm sorry you ever had to know someone like me. I wish you did know me. I wish I could just see your eyes again and tell you why I did everything. But now, I can't. You can't have me in your life anymore, and you should never have to deal with me or see me again. 

You probably know my secret now that its all been shared. I should have never written those notes. For what I did to you, I don't deserve for you to keep my secret any longer. I'm surprised you did for so long, I wouldn't have. You are such a kind hearted person and you never deserved me. 

I hope you can get better, Frankie. I hope you'll forget me."

I gently placed the note by his unharmed hand and stood up to go. I turned for the door as the tears slid down my face and to my neck, leaving me a mess. I couldn't go yet. 

I went back to Frank's bed and took a shaky breath before brushing the hair from his forehead, and placing a kiss there. Taking one last look at the sleeping figure I had grown so attached to, I silently left the room.

-x-x-x- 

I crept down the stairs and out of the house, lugging the duffel bag I had packed earlier that day. I can't stay there and keep hurting Frank, so I decided to do the next best thing and leave entirely. 

I didn't tell anyone else that I was going, I didn't leave any notes. Frank was the only one who needed to know what was happening, he deserved to know. Mikey was better off not having someone there to stop him from doing anything anyways. My mom always told me that since I was older and I'd be going to college first, they couldn't pay Mikey's tuition if they payed mine. And lets face it, I wasn't ever gonna get to a college with a scholarship. I wasn't a good student. 

I opted to get on a bus instead of any other public transport. It wasn't very traceable. Unlike a train, which only had so many tracks to follow. Scanning my ticket at the door, they let me onto the bus, which luckily wasn't crowded. I chose a seat on the side so I didn't look suspicious travelling alone at night in the dark back-half of a bus with a duffel bag... That would not be ideal. 

Every stop the bus made only reminded me again that I could step off at any moment. It reminded me that I could go back and stay around the one person that made me feel something other than pain.

I was afraid of thinking too much, and pulled out my sketchbook from the bag, along with some pencils and a kneaded eraser. Loosely putting in the figures at first, the drawing soon became an image of two people facing each other. I decided it wasn't what I felt enough so I found an old red marker in the bag and started adding some markings, making it look like a spattering of blood. 

After more touches of red and a messily colored background consisting of the only black marker I had brought with me for this trip, I lost myself in it. No longer was I paying any mind to the people getting on and off the rickety greyhound I was riding in. The only thing in my mind now was the memory of the way Frank's skin felt on my lips and the peaceful yet pained look on his face when I left the note with him. I wanted nothing more than to go back before he woke up, rip up the note and pretend I was never going to leave. But I was already gone, and now I'm not coming home. 

I shook my head to rid myself of those thoughts and gazed at the page for a moment, considering the composition and proportion as if it were any normal artwork I had done in the past. 

Satisfied with the image, I sighed and looked out the window, watching every building pass by. The rain slowly fell down the windows in patterns no one understood, and the car headlights shone through the water droplets, painting the pane of glass into a temporary tattoo of a world in and of its own.