Skin and Bones

Donald speeds up and makes a turn to get onto the busy main road. I stare out the window and see a vague blur of color from each car that passes by, but in reality, I see nothing but my house.

I’m planning – laying out a game-plan for myself for when we walk through the door.
I’m gonna go straight up to my room and pack. I’m gonna empty my draws first – bottom up, like thieves do. Then I’m gonna head to my closet and take the few items of clothes that I care about.
The tux I wore to court when my mom had gotten her first DUI would be left behind, while my favorite hoodie would come with me. I also wanted to bring the black tie I ”inherited” from my dad before he left. It’s the only thing I have of him except for the broken bathroom tile and a few pictures.
The pictures. I wanna get the photo albums too. We have three – one with pictures of my parents when they were young and in love, one with pictures from their wedding until my first day of school and one with pictures from then on until now.
I only want to get the second one. I’ll grab it right before we leave. It’s the only thing from our living room I desire to keep.

We turn another corner.

I’m gonna empty my drawers and my closet, then go down and grab the photo album.
My CD’s! I wanna get my CD’s too. And my notebook.
So, drawers, closet, CD’s and notebook. Oh, I still have a few of my school-things on my desk – I need to get those too.
The car stops.

“I guess this is it,” Donald says and sighs. I look up, past Mikey and Gerard, and out the window.
There’s a strip of yellow police-tape lying discarded on the pale lawn, and there’s a yellow cross on the front door. Other than that, it looks normal.

I look down, take off my seatbelt and open the car door. I close the door behind me and look over at the house on the other side of the street. I can see a dark figure in the first-floor window.

I hear three doors open and close one by one, before I turn around and walk around the back of the car.
I don’t look at anything but the yellow tape on the front door as I walk through the front lawn.
I can’t feel anything. I’ve prepared myself for fear or anger or sadness, but I feel none of that.
I just want it over with.
I stop in front of the door.

“Frank Iero?” I look to my left and see a police officer. I nod softly. He nods back and walk up in front of me. I spot the key in his hands, before he sticks it in the lock and opens the door for me.
As it slowly falls open, more and more of the abandoned, dusty house comes into view.

It looks so grey.

The dust is flying through the air – unaffected, but still moved.
I step across the doorstep and look around. It all looks untouched – like no one’s been in here since I left.

I hear Donna thank the police officer before her heels make dull thuds against the matt. I hear her sigh heavily, like she’s about to say something. I don’t want her to. I want this over with, I don’t want pity.

I walk up the stairs, determined to have my wish come true.
I walk towards my room and push the door all the way open. It slams against my desk. I hesitate for a second, but when I hear the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs, I walk into my room and to my drawer.

I open the bottom drawer and look at the sweaters and sweatpants. I pull them out and throw them in a pile on the floor – deciding quickly to bring them all.
I open the second drawer from the bottom and pull out all my socks, gloves, scarves and hats.

I open the middle drawer and pull out my pants.

I open the second drawer from the top and pull out my t-shirts – all of them. As I toss them into the pile on the floor, I spot Gerard and Mikey next to it, stuffing it all into the bags they brought.

I open the last drawer and pull out my underwear. I blush slightly when I throw them on top of the pile.

I get to the bottom of the drawer and find two pieces of paper. I unfold one and immediately remember it. It’s a drawing my friend Jamie made in kindergarden. He was my first crush, and he made this to make sure I’d always remember him. It’s a rainbow. I don’t think he knew that rainbows are like a sign for homosexuality, but I guess there’s a reason for that. It’s just gay.

I smile at the memory. He told me never to forget that he was my first crush.
He doesn’t go to my school, but from what I’ve heard he’s now the biggest asshole-jog at our sister-school. At least he’s probably not all that homophobic.

I fold the piece of paper up and put it in my pocket along with the other one. I’ll look at them later.

I turn around and continue my mission.

I walk over to the closet and pull out my favorite hoodie. Instead of throwing it into the pile on the floor, I pull it over the sweater I borrowed from Gerard. It’s kinda odd to wear them both, but I ignore it and walk over to my window.
I pull the curtains back and grab the first stack of CD’s. I started storing my CD’s behind my curtain after I managed to get the first CD my mom disapproved of. It had ‘explicit content’, so once I’d coaxed the guy at the record store to sell it to me, I hid it behind my curtain so my mom wouldn’t know.

I walk over to the brothers who’ve packed all my clothes incredibly fast. Gerard holds his hands out, grabs the stack of CD’s and put them into the bag of clothes.
I walk back and forth between the window and Gerard three more times, while Mikey takes one of the bags and walks down with it.

When I go back to the window one last time, I look out. The dark figure in the first-floor window of the house across the street is still there.
I wonder if whoever it is knew. I wonder if they’d heard – noticed. Did they hear my cries when my mom beat me? Did they hear her yells and screams when she scolded me? Did they notice anything?

Gerard wraps his arms around my waist and I jump slightly. My heart pounds in my cave of a chest, and it doesn’t slow down at all when Gerard kisses my neck softly.

“Let’s get out of here, okay?” I nod quietly and turn around in his embrace. He kisses my lips tenderly, before he pulls away and grabs the last of my CD’s out of my hands.

I look around the room.
It’s amazing how quick you can pack up 16 years.

I look towards my bed and my bedside table. I consider throwing out the dirty magazine hidden under my mattress and the bottle of lube in the drawer, but I decide against it – not when the Ways are here. The police or movers or whoever can get the privilege of doing that.

I look over at my desk and notice it’s been stripped. I guess the brothers or Donna or Donald, perhaps, did that.

“Ready?” Gerard asks and picks up the last bag.
I look around my room one last time.
I nod.

Gerard smiles and holds out a hand for me. I walk over and grab it, before we walk out of the room that’s no longer mine.
We walk down the stairs and are met by Donna and the police officer.

“Done already?” the officer asks surprised, while Donna looks just as surprised. I nod – still with a smile on my face.
“Alright.” The police officer and Donna turn around and walk out the door, and Gerard and I are just about to follow them when I glance into the living room.
I stop and tug on Gerard’s hand once before I let go.

“Just one last thing,” I say as I walk towards the shelves next to the TV. I find the photo album and pull it out quickly, before I skip back to Gerard and grab his hand again. I smile up at him. He smiles back with a sad look in his eyes. It’s unnecessary, really.
We walks out the door and towards the car. I hear the door get locked behind me, and that’s when it hits me.

I’m leaving for good.

My gut twists around my heart in my throat and make me choke a little. My breathing becomes heavy as my eyes start to tickle – then burn.
I try to swallow down the sudden sadness that seems to be strangling me, but I can’t. It won’t go back down – only up.

Gerard lets go of my hand to load the bag into the trunk and I stare down at the pavement intensely. I don’t want to look at my house ‘one last time’. I won’t.
Gerard slams the trunk shut and I jump. When I see his feet turn their toes towards me, I let out the first sob.
Gerard’s arms are around me within a second, squeezing my entire body close against him. I fist his shirt in my hands and my nails dig through the fabric and into my own palms.
Gerard kisses the top of my head repeatedly as his arms and hands keep a firm hold of me – pressing me so close to him that we’re almost melting together.

I keep sobbing.
Even though I’m completely and utterly broken right now, I know it’ll only get better from now on.