The *** of Johnny Ramone and Other Stories

“For fuck’s sake, Adam, let me in!” Frank shouted through his best friend Adam’s door. The door was finally opened by a tired young man with shoulder-length brown hair.
“You do know what time it is?” He yawned.
“It’s an emergency, I need to come in.”
Without another word, Frank walked in and collapsed onto Adam’s sofa while Adam made a pot of hot tea. He put it on the coffee table and sat opposite Frank, staring fixedly into his frightened eyes.
“Now tell me what just happened before I fall asleep.”
Frank gulped the tea down and began his story. Adam shouldn’t have fretted over falling asleep, the story he was listening to made his pupils dilate and a shiver run down his spine; A story truly worthy of keeping him awake for rest of the night. If he had survived it.
“Holy shit, Frank, have you told anyone about this?”
“No one except for Bob. He’s truly freaked out by it.”
Adam shook his head and buried it in his hands.
“I think you better have a shower and go to bed,” he said finally. “I’ll wash up the tea cups.”
Frank nodded and walked up stairs. He quickly jumped into the shower and let the warm water trickle over his body and flatten his hair. He summarized the day in his head and shuddered. He certainly wasn’t getting any sleep tonight. He ran his fingers through his dark hair and blinked, trying to get the irritating bleariness out of his eyes.
“Frank!”
He turned sharply. Did someone just scream his name out, or was he imagining it? He shook his head and turned the water off. You’re becoming paranoid, he thought to himself. He got dressed back into his clothes and splashed water on his face from the sink. He stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.
“You’re beginning to imagine things, you’re going to go out of your mind,” He told his reflection under his breath.
“Frank, help me!”
It was Adam. He wasn’t imagining things, Adam was screaming out for help. He ran down the stairs, two steps at a time. He saw Adam on the kitchen floor, lying in a pool of his own blood, barely alive.
“Adam… What’s happened to you?” Frank could barely speak. His other best friend was dying. Adam lifted his blood stained shirt to show a large wound which showed the whiteness of the rib underneath his skin. Frank kneeled next to Adam and fingered the wound. Adam winced. This gash was not made by a knife or any weapon at all, but by the killer’s own fingers. The murderer had forced his own fingers through Adam’s skin to his rib.
“W-who did this t-to you,” Frank whispered, his bottom lip trembling.
“I don’t know him,” Adam wheezed. “He’s still here, Frank, run for your life, Run!”
“B-but I can’t leave you…”
“it’s too late for me, leave me and save yourself, just go!” Adam forced these words out and spluttered before lying still, his eyes wide with fear. He was dead. Frank sobbed silently and stroked Adam’s hair.
“Temperamental moment?” Said a voice behind him. For the first time, Detective Iero managed to get a proper look at the murderer. He had shoulder length black hair and had a gash across his cheek. Adam must’ve put up a fight, Frank thought to himself. The killer’s eyes burned with anticipation and he was shaking with adrenalin. He had blacked his eyes with eyeliner but there was something more to him. Frank couldn’t tell what.
“Why did you have to kill him? Why couldn’t you have just killed me?” Frank yelled.
“Because then he would’ve known. But let’s quit the chit-chat and get down to business,” The man turned to Frank and raised a butcher’s knife. “Any last requests?”
Frank could think of a million questions to ask him: Why me? Why are you killing these people? Do you feel any culpability for what you’ve done?
But there was one thing he wanted; he wanted the reason and name of his killer.
“What is your name and why are you like this?”
The murderer looked shocked. Who would’ve wanted to know about himself? He took a few steps back and leant against the kitchen cabinet.
“My name is Gerard Way,” He said in a quiet voice. This shocked Frank; he didn’t think his murderer would have a quiet voice like that. But something surprised him further; Gerard was crying. Frank didn’t think this person had such emotions. Gerard looked down at the floor silently. Frank took his chance and walked as softly as he could to the kitchen door that led outside.
“I’m sorry, but I think I better leave -” Frank slipped through the kitchen door and slammed it behind him. He heard the shouts of anguish coming from Adam’s house but he didn’t stop running. He leapt over some dustbins and onto the road. It was dark and deserted outside and there wasn’t anyone out. All of the lights in every house was off; a true Ghost Town. He could hear Gerard Way behind him shouting:
“You’ll never get away! Never!”
Frank ran to the end of the road but didn’t stop. His heart was heaving, his lungs were about to burst and his legs pleaded for him not to run another step but he carried on regardless. Then he saw it. Regent’s Park! He quickly scaled the now closed gates and into the park. He slowed down, gasping for breath, and walked briskly into the children’s area. Frank noticed how cold the night was and he shivered in his thin shirt. There was a faint creaking behind and he whipped around. But it was only the children’s swings. All four of the swings swung back and forth, back and forth, like phantom children were all around him.
BANG.
Frank whipped around again, his heart hammering against his rib-cage. But it was the see-saw.
BANG.
It went up and down, scraping against the floor and making a rasping noise. But the rasping noise wasn’t the see-saw. It was the man standing right behind him.
“We meet again, Detective.”
BANG.

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