Discovering the Past

He held me for a long time, sobbing like a kid. The last time my little brother cried like that was when Alicia died.
I just stayed there and let him hold me, without a clue of what to feel.
I slowly moved my hand to his back and rubbed instinctively, rocking back and forth.

-“That was amazing,” He said, kissing my check and falling asleep in my arms.-

I looked around my kitchen, trying to process the information.
He was dead?

-“Look!” He showed me his shoulder, smiling.
“Another one?” I said, rolling my eyes.
“It´s my fucking Grandpa, show some respect,” He giggled and punched me in the arm.
“I love it.” I looked at his tattoo and kissed him there.-

Mikey continued crying for about five more minutes, while I kept rubbing his back.
I was trying to form a sentence with no positive result. I couldn’t cry either.
I kept looking around my kitchen, the coffee was still on the table.

-“I could live on coffee and skittles for months,” He giggled hysterically.-

Mikey broke the embrace and went to the bathroom, I was left alone in the kitchen, looking at the white wall. Feeling nothing.

-“I love you.”
His voice was soft,
“I love you, I always will, even if I die…” He smirked. “You´ll be haunted by my sexy ghost.” He laughed at his own joke and kissed my forehead “I´ll never leave you Way, so you better get used to my fucking face…”-

A million memories came back, not the sad ones or the bad ones, but the happy ones. I felt like my body was about to explode, my mind filled with images and voices. His face, his voice, like a movie playing in front of my eyes.

“Does Rose know?” Was the first thing I said the moment Mikey entered the kitchen again.
He moved his head in a no as he cleaned the tears from his red eyes.
“I wa… was afraid, to act like thiiis, in front…of her,” He was hiccupping from all the crying. “Brian couldn´t do it either.”
I kept looking around, trying to find some sense to the situation.
He was dead, gone.
Mikey was shaking a little.
“But… I´m going to…”
“Brian… He lost it…” I think Mikey kept talking, but my ears weren’t listening anymore.
My hands were shaking, I noticed when I tried to grab the cup of coffee.
“Gee?”
“I´m fine,” An unintentional angry tone came from my mouth.
I would have killed for a drink. A beer. I wanted a beer so fucking much.
I drank the coffee, imagining it was whisky or something with alcohol.
“How?” I tried to focus my attention to the coffee.
He looked at me without understanding my question.
“How did he…”I found myself unable to say the word out loud.

Cancer? A crash? HIV? A killer tarantula?

He hugged himself and started sobbing again.
“He…God…“ He closed his eyes and sat on the chair. “He killed himself Gee.”

My eyes grew wider and my breathing accelerated.
“What?” I almost screamed at my brother, who jumped in his seat.
My body started to shake; I stood up, moving around the kitchen.
“That doesn´t make sense…”

-“Don´t you ever say that again, Gerard!! EVER!”
“I don´t deserve anything, I´m so alone…” I was a little drunk still. He was shaking me, his eyes sad, but his voice angry.
“Stop it! Never say that!!!” He yelled. “Nothing justifies taking your life away!!”
“Frankie…”
He held me tight…
“It´s okay…you’ll get through this, I promise.”
I passed out a few minutes later.-

“Mikey…no.” I said it as statement.
“Gerard…”
“No…”
“Gerard, listen…” Mikey approached me and I took a step back.
“No, Mikey, no… that´s not possible.”
I was not going to buy that. He would never do that, Iero would never kill himself, at least I knew him that much.
So, maybe there was a mistake, a person with the same name, or a rumor.

“Gerard he was depressed, Brian read the file, it wasn’t the first time he tried,” Mikey said it quickly so I couldn’t stop him from talking.
“No, no, that´s not possible,” I shook my head. “There must be some kind of mistake.”
“He drank something… the doctor said…”
“NO, Mikey. You don´t you get it, he couldn’t have died like that…”
“Gee…” His look was sympathetic. He didn´t understand that he couldn’t be dead, that it had to be another Frank.

My Frank would never do that.

“No, no, no, no, no. Frank would never kill himself, he wouldn’t do that… I know him…“
For the first time I said his name.
I went upstairs, for some reason I needed to keep moving. Mikey was following behind me, calling my name.
“No, no, no, no, no,” I kept repeating it quickly, shaking my head, denying myself any possibility that Mikey presented me.
“No, no, no, no.”
We got to my room. I entered and kept talking, not listening to Mikey who was crying again.
“He was alone for a long time, and depressed, taking pills and all that stuff. Brian saw the files…”
I just shook my head again. In my head Frank was a fighter, he was a coward, but not to the point of killing himself. He didn´t think that way.
“He wouldn’t do that… He… I know him.”
“He might have changed, not the person we used to know…”
“I can´t believe that…”
Mikey went back to the living room.
I sat on my bed. I knew him, he wouldn´t do that. Why would he kill himself?
I had to keep repeating that in my head, make it true.
“No. Mikey stop it,” My brother was staring at me with tears in his eyes. He handed me something, a picture.
“Brian’s British friends sent him this also.”
I took the picture.

Frank Anthony Iero
31/10/1981 – 20/4/2028
Keep the Faith

Keep the faith.
That was his birthday, his name, his tomb.
All that time I spent hating him, being upset with him, wanting him dead; hoping that he could disappear from the earth, now my wish had come true and I didn´t like it at all.
Dead.
I realized in that moment it didn´t matter what he did, what happened. Everything erased for a moment.
Frankie was dead; my best friend was not here anymore.
I would never be able to talk to him anymore.
I just sat there, and after what it seemed hours, Mikey helped me get into the bed.
“Try to sleep,” He tried to take the picture away from me, but I refused.
“Gerard…” He said slowly.
“Leave me alone, please.” My voice was almost a whisper. He kissed my cheek before leaving the room. I heard him going though the living room and heading out of the house. The sound of his car leaving.
Wrapping myself tight with the sheet I felt something wet. Tears?
After more than 10 years, I found myself again, crying for Frank Iero.