To The End

Okay that was wierd, was there a bad connection, or did he really just hang up on me? I looked at my phone for a few moments to check I didn't hang up on him, but I hadn't. What did he mean by 'do you think this is funny'? Or was it just the beggining of what he was going to say. I tried ringing him again but his phone was now switched off.

"Frank come down here for a second." My mum shouted for me at the bottom of the stairs and I done as I was told. There were two police officers stood with her and the lights were going off outside the door.

"What." I groaned, knowing I was about to be asked a load of questions about my dad. But they might suspect something when I don't find it remotely upsetting talking about him when he only died a few hours ago. I know he will appear to me soon enough, give it time.

"These two men want to ask you some questions, you're alright with that aren't you?" I just nodded and looked down at me feet, if I say something wrong she will attack me the second they step out the door.

We all sat down in the dining area and one of the officers got out a notebook and pen obviously preparing to jot down some notes, I just sat staring at the other one, he had a funny looking face and I found it quite amusing. It was really hard not to just point at his face and laugh really loud. I don't think he would appreciate it though.

"Okay Frank, did you get along with your father regularly?" The man with the nametag Charles asked me. His voice was all husky and it sounded like his chest was covered in mucus, to me its the sign's of a very heavy smoker.

"Yeah of course I do" I started thinking back on the times when me and my dad would play imaginary games with each other when I was little. Those were the good times worth remembering.

"Alright then, do you think there was anything that your dad could have done to provoke someone to do this? Like owing people money, or..."

"My dad would never do that, he is such a caring and kind person, he would always be looking after me and enjoy it. And he doesn't owe anyone money because he has a good paying job that is easily capable of looking after us."

"Do you think there could be any reason for your dad's death?" Charles looked over to his fellow worker and gave him a certain look which then began to make the other guy write something down. I really want to snatch it off him and read it because I know he's writing something about me.

"Did you or your mum have anything to do with his death, it's alright to tell us the truth and it will make it easier for us if you did."

"No I fucking didn't thank you! How dare you say that about my own flesh and blood. If it wasn't for him I wouldn't be here, so why don't you shove that fucking notepad up your own ass and get out you dickheads. What can ever make you think I would do that to my dad, I love him!"

"Frank Iero, could you please calm down for us. I don't want to arrest you for assaulting a police officer."

"How in god's name have I assaulted you in any way you pigs. You just tried accusing me of killing my own dad and you expect me to just let it pass over my head?" I tried to snatch the notepad but they snatched it away from me before I had the chance. Charles got up and grabbed my arms, putting then behind my back and put the hand cuffs on me. Dick head, I should have slapped him whilst I still could.

My mum just watched them forcefully drag me out of the house and smiled, Why the fuck is she smiling for, her son is being taken away and she's happy about it? Looks like I have to spend the night in some smelly little room that probably carries diseases that can kill me.

The drive over was long and boring, I kept giggling to myself because of the situation and watched all the lights from the car's going past in a big blur. I just can't get over why they are taking me in for reacting to them saying I killed my own dad and trying to snatch a notebook that has some form of bitching against me.

At the station, charles dragged me into a cell and locked the door behind him, I sat down smiling like a fool and he slapped me right across the face, This came as a total suprise to me and I just stared blankly at him. He kept opening and closing his mouth trying to think of something to say. I was tempted to say 'is that all you've got' but he will most likely punch my lights out.

"You are such a litle freak, you know that?" He finally spoke, I knew I was a freak, so I don't need to be told again.

"Yes I am fully aware of that." I replied, trying my hardest not to burst out laughing again.

"Listen here kid, if you don't straighten our act I while come after you and make sure you don't ever see the day light again. Got that?" As he said those lasts few words, he actually spat on my face. Disgusting little mongrel.

"Yeah I have, but I would appreciate it if you would not spit on my face next time." I wiped my cheek and Charles left, re-locking the door and echoing throughout the confined space.

I looked around, seeking an impossible escape route and led down on the rock cement they call a bed in this dump. If only Gerard would come and keep me company. I felt myself getting claustraphobic seeing the walls slowly closing in on me. There are so many cubicles here, with people who have killed others, and people who think they can get away with robbing a bank, I only hope I don't bump into one.

I feel this cubicle was designed to go with everything I hate, the toilet was blocked, stinks of shit, writing on the wall, covers stained with urine, and the floor covered with dirt. The first thing I shall do tomorrow when I am let out is complain about the conditions these little cubicles are in, it's awful. They should be cleaned more than once a year which is what it seems like and they should have built in speakers to play music as entertainment. But I suppose I can't be too fussy right now.