If You Say Goodbye Today

Gerard's P.O.V.

After Frank had left, I had made my way to the bed, no longer able to contain my sobs and hysterics, and collapsed into adreamless Frankless sleep. Doesn't it seem weird...maybe almost ironic...that when you're upset, basically the last thing you want to do is sleep, but when you do it always feels so much better because you're not disturbed by what's going on in your life.

Until you wake up.

It's like a small two to three hour period where you're just careless, oblivious to what's going on in the world, and your pain subsides...just a little. I'd like to know exactly how that happens.

Is it like a mechanism in the brain that only works when you fall asleep? That just erases all the thoughts, feelings, and pain away for just a little while?

Or are our minds trained to do that anyway?

I shook my head roughly. I'd been awake from my sleep for almost twenty minutes now. I had decided coffee would be a really good remedy to wake me up, maybe even soothe me a little, so I had set about getting the coffee in the filter, and water into the machine, and was only waiting for it to finish brewing.

Once it had, I poured some of the steaming hot liquid into a mug, replacing the pot, and taking a satisfying gulp of the hot liquid that burned down my throat, warming my insides.

From where I was standing in the kitchen I was able to see the television I had on in the living room. The ten o'clock news was airing, and I strained my ears to hear the voices speaking.

"...what looks to be a automobile collision in the rural Belleville area, police have not released very much information regarding twenty-seven year old Frank Iero..."

That was the last thing I heard before my hands felt considerably lighter, and a sonorous crash, and the sound of the flow of liquid hitting the ground was all that was left. My breathing hitched in my throat, and as a result, I collapsed onto my knees that had decided they didn't want to hold me up anymore.

Then there was a series of screams, from where, I didn't know. They kept getting louder, and then softer, going in and out like the beat of a heart as the blood rushed to and from my head.

I tried to call out to the person who was screaming, but it was so hard to breathe, let alone speak, or yell back. Then, I suddenly started thrashing around, searching for something, the screams the prominent sound in my ears. I searched the floor, the counter, and finally my pockets, coming across the device I needed.

I flipped the piece of plastic open, and desperately dialed the number of the only person I knew who could help me right now. It rang forever, the annoyingly agonizing tone going on, going off, until finally one was interrupted by a voice.

"Hello?" They asked.

"M-m-m-Mikey!" I shrieked. This was all my fault.

"Gee, what's wrong?" He asked, pure concern lacing his voice.

"F-f-Frank!" I shouted. "H-h-he w-w-was in an a-a-a-a-accident! M-m-Mikey c-come get m-me! This is all my f-f-fault!" I shrieked even louder than before. I was so exhausted, so I lay my head down on the linoleum tile in the kitchen, hugging my knees to my chest, keeping my phone in contact with my ear.

"W-what Gee? I'll be right over, okay? He'll be okay...I'll be right there...don't move!" He disconnected the phone, and I let mine fall to the floor.

I figured since Mikey was on his way, it would be okay if I fell asleep for awhile...I was so tired....