Skin and Bones

It’s odd how emotions work. Even when people do the worst possible things to you – things that you could never even imagine – you still can’t get rid of those old feelings you thought were long gone, even if you want to.

I want to hate my dad. I want to hate him so bad with every fiber of my being for leaving me, scaring me and suddenly coming back into my life claiming to be “a changed man” and trying to pull me away from the only place I’ve ever felt truly accepted and comfortable.

But I can’t.
I used to love him. I used to look up to him. He used to be my dad.

“We would like to call Gerard Way as a witness,” my dad’s lawyer says and the judge simply nods. Gerard reluctantly gets up from his seat and walks with his head hung low. Donald has already been up there to give his statement. He told the court about the time I came to them after my mom had beat me. He told them how he took care of me, how Donna warmed me and how Mikey helped me change out of my soaked clothes.

Gerard glances at me quickly and the fear, nerves and sadness in his eyes makes my heart thump painfully in my chest. When Gerard turns his back to me and walk towards the witness stand, I look down at Mikey’s shoes and swallow hard.
I borrowed Mikey’s shoes. Donna made sure to buy me a suit, but she forgot about the shoes. Mikey’s shoes are two sizes too big, but the curled up socks in the toes of the shoes help them stay on.

“How long have you known Frank Iero?” I look up to see Gerard in the witness stand. He’s staring nervously at the lawyer.

“About two years.”

“And how has your relationship been with him during these two years?” Gerard glances down at his lap. I bet he’s rubbing his hands together. His neck are slightly flushed.

“I first knew him as my younger brother’s annoying friend, but within the last year or so we’ve become friends.”

“Are you close?” Gerard looks up at the lawyer suddenly. He then glances back to me. When his eyes meet mine, my brain goes into overdrive.

He knows. The lawyer knows. He’s gonna call us fags and the judge will refuse to let me live with the Ways. I have to go live with my dad. I have to move away. I don’t even know where my dad lives! I haven’t known him for years and I haven’t even spoken to him! He’s spoken to me, but I haven’t said a word to him. I don’t know what I’d say.

“Yes,” is Gerard’s simple answer. I’m relieved.

The lawyer suddenly turns away from Gerard and walks over to the desk he and my dad have been assigned and picks up some paper. He hands one to the lawyer representing the Ways, before he walks towards the judge.

“This is a copy of a police report from the Newark Police Department. On Friday the 17th of April, it was reported that a patrol car drove home two young men, one of which were Gerard Arthur Way.” My eyes widen. My breaths become shallow.

The lawyer hands the copy of the police report to the judge, before he turns to face Gerard.

“Is it true that you, on Friday the 17th, illegally consumed alcohol on a public street?” Gerard looks pale – completely drained of color. His face is completely blank. He just stares at the lawyer. His eyes look so dead, yet so filled with fear and regret.

I want to divert my eyes. I can’t stand seeing him so upset, but I can’t look away. If he needs me, my eyes are gonna be right there for him and give him strength.

He looks down.

“Yes.” I barely hear him. A tear rolls down my cheek as my head keeps spinning and my chest keeps aching. But it’s Gerard’s shame that hurts me the most. It’s strangling me.
I can’t stand seeing him like this.

“Is it also true that this is not the first time? That it has happened before?” The lawyer’s words are like stabs in my throat. His tone is so unforgiving. It’s all constricting my airways.
Suddenly, Gerard looks up. His eyes are now holding a faint glimmer of emotion – an emotion that drowns me. He looks so hopeless – like nothing but a shell of himself.

“Yes.” His eyes suddenly land on me. He stares into my eyes and I try hard to push away all the tears and be strong for him. I try to give him all my strength. I try to send him all my energy to not give up. But he’s bleak. He’s unresponsive.
He just sits there.

“Your Honor, it is obvious that the eldest son of the Ways is a troublemaker. He drinks, even in broad daylight, and this can’t possibly be considered a good environment for a young boy. Gerard Way’s bad habits might rub off on Frank.”

“Objection!” The Way’s lawyer screams and stands up quickly. I flinch at every move he makes and every sound he utters.
“He’s making assumptions, your Honor! He has no proof that this sort of behavior will affect Frank!”

“Calm down, Mr. Smith,” the judge tells the Way’s lawyer.
“Mr. Alford; stick to the evidence. Objection sustained.” Mr. Alford nods and Mr. Smith slowly sits down.

After the confusion, I look back at Gerard. He isn’t looking at me anymore. His head is hung so low that I can barely see his chin due to his hair hanging like a curtain in front of his face. I can’t see anything but that tiny bit of chin.
He looks so lost.

“Thank you, Gerard,” Mr. Alford says, turns around and walks back to his seat. It’s so easy to hate him. I scowl at him as he sits down next to “my dad”, and without hesitation, fear or regret, my scowl lands on him.

The hatred doesn’t disappear. The scowl doesn’t fade. The burning feeling all the way from my gut up into my throat doesn’t go away. It’s so easy to let it stick.

“Your witness, Mr. Smith.” I slowly tear my scowling eyes away from Mr. Iero and look ahead. Mr. Smith gets up from his chair and I focus on his blond hair as I let my burning hate die down.

“Gerard.” I close my eyes briefly to get rid of the last bit of tension in my face, before I look over at Gerard. He hasn’t raised his head.
“Have you ever pressured Frank into drinking?” Gerard’s head suddenly shoots up and he stares shocked at Mr. Smith. His eyes are wide. And red.

“No,” Gerard answers loudly, on the border to outraged.

“Have you been drinking or been drunk in front of Frank?”

“No.” My eyes widen. That’s a lie. He can’t be lying. He’s supposed to tell the truth.

“When was the last time you drank?” He looks down at the floor.

“On…April 17th.”

“Is this a conscious decision?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t wanna disappoint Frank.” Gerard glances over at me, but he quickly diverts his eyes in shame. The invisible noose around my neck returns and tightens.

“And why is that?” Gerard looks up at Mr. Smith. He glances off to the side once, before he looks back into Smith’s eyes and then swallows.

“Because he helped me stop.”

“Thank you, Gerard,” Mr. Smith says and walks away.

“You may step down now, Gerard,” the judge says, and Gerard nods at her before he gets up from the chair and gets down from the stand.

He won’t look at me. I keep staring at him – silently begging for him to look at me so that he knows that I still love him and don’t blame him for anything – but he doesn’t lift his eyes from the floor to meet mine.

It’s not his fault.

I don’t wanna blame him.

Even if he is the reason why I’ll be forced to live with Mr. Iero, I just don’t wanna blame him for it.

He walks past me and sits down in the chair next to me. He doesn’t even glance at me.

I close my eyes and beg myself not to blame him.