New Kid in New Jersey

Gerard stood up and strode across the room without a word, picking up his shirt and hastily sliding it back on with shaking fingers. He didn't look at me once, just shook his head and stormed off into the kitchen, slamming the door behind him with so much force that it groaned and shook in it's flimsy, wooden frame.

I stared at the door as if waiting for Gerard to come back through and cuddle me close to him like he had before, but he didn't. I shivered, curled up into a ball on the sofa, picked up the blanket that had fallen to the floor and pulled it around myself in silence. Why didn't I stop him from pulling my shirt off... It was so dumb of me to forget all about my scars; my disgusting, taunting scars, which I couldn't even bear to look at anymore. They were just a horrible reminder of my sickening past, telling me that it was all reality that would be with me forever.

I shivered again, weighing my options on whether to stay here or go talk to Gerard. I made up my mind and decided on talking to Gerard. Standing up slowly, pulling the blanket tighter around myself, feeling the cold, and tiptoed silently towards the kitchen door.

Pressing my ear up again the cold wood, all I could hear was the soft crying of my angel on his own in the kitchen. I couldn't just stand here and listen to him crying like this - we had to talk it through. I was going to have to reveal my Chicago past to him, no matter how bad it was.

I turned the cool metal doorknob and carefully opened the door a crack, peeking through. He didn't look up. I quietly walked into the room and sat down on the opposite side of the table to Gerard. We sat in silence for almost a whole minute, before he finally looked up at me with red eyes and a tear-streaked face.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" He spat.

"Gerard, I... I didn't know what to tell you." I muttered. "I thought you'd get angry with me. I'm so sorry..."

"I am angry with you, Frank! You should've told me this, you should've trusted me!"

"I was afraid, Gee. I was afraid that you wouldn't love me anymore."

"Frank, why would you ever even dare to think that?!"

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." I kept apologising, stupidly hoping that my useless apologies might sort things out.

"I love you so much, but I don't think that you love me back as much as you should! You're supposed to fucking tell me these things, Frank!"

"Gerard, these scars were no fucking accident." I waited for him to answer, but he didn't, so I continued. "I never told you about my life before I moved here, did I? My dad used to come home from work each night, wasted out of his mind, and beat me up until I was unconscious. He started when I was ten years old and completely defenseless. Ten years old, Gerard."

"Fuck..." He breathed, mouth wide open.

I glared up at him, tears threatening to fall from my eyes.
"And I was so stupid, Gerard. You know why I was stupid? Because I thought that you, of all people, would understand..."

I tried hard to keep the tough look on my face, even though I knew I'd hurt him, while Gerard's mouth still hung open, astonished at my words. He watched me with wide eyes as I stood up angrily, kicking my chair across the room, and then stormed out of the door.