Giving Up the World

Frank
September of 1995
The ringing in my ears was highly annoying and the pounding in my head was killing me. I was confused as to what was going on and why I was in so much pain. The memory of last night was spotty. I don't remember all of it, just parts. There was beer. Lots of beer. - And there was laughter. Gerard, he was there. How'd he get here?

The confusion was just making my head hurt even more. As I peeled my eyes open, they were met with the morning sun. I flinched and quickly shut my eyes, growing as the light caused my head to pulse.

"Fuck." I muttered quietly, pulling my blanket up over my head to make sure not even the tiniest sliver of light got to my eyes.

"Frank?" A familiar voice questioned. I heard footsteps coming closer to me and every time that person took a step, it made my head hurt immensely. "Frankie, are you okay?" I heard him whisper. He knew I was hungover, he was there last night from what I remember.

"No." I groaned, "Could you please close the blinds or something? I'm suffocating under my bed sheets." I whined.

A giggle slipped past Gerard's lips as I heard him walk over to the window and close the blinds, "Alright, now come out Mr. Hangover, I'm so fucking pissed off at you." Gerard spoke in a low voice.

I pulled the blankets off my head and sat up, getting extremely dizzy as I sat up. I felt my stomach flip and a burning sensation ride up my throat. I bolted out of my room, forgetting my dizzy state, and made it to the bathroom. I collapsed on the floor, right in front of the toilet and began to throw up violently.

A hand was placed on my back, rubbing circles in a comforting way. Gerard. He held my fringe back as I threw up and when I was finally done emptying the contents of my stomach, I sprawled out on the bathroom floor crying. I had never felt more like shit ever in my life.

Gerard sat next to me and pulled me up into his lap. He pretty much was holding me like a baby would be held. I felt like I needed to stick my thumb in my mouth to shut up, but I didn't. I just gripped Gerard's shirt and buried my face in the crook of his neck. His fingers slipped through my tangled hair as his other hand rubbed circles on my back again.

The reason I was crying was for multiple reasons. I was disgusted with myself and angry that I had drunk so much. The headache and ringing in my ears were driving me insane. After vomiting out everything that was in me, I felt tired and I really was like a baby in Gerard's hands. Baby's cry when they're tired. Baby's cry when they're hurt. Baby's want to be held when they cry. But I'm not a baby, I'm almost fifteen and I still can't take care of myself. I was pretty much crying for acting like a baby.

"Sh," Gerard cooed into my ear, "You're okay Frank, I promise." He assured me.

The crying that I was doing made my entire body feel more like shit, but I couldn't stop, even if Gerard was whispering me promises. "I'm pathetic!" I yelled and I liked the way it hurt me. I liked the way it punished me for what I had done the previous night. "What the fuck is wrong with me?!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.

"Frank don't talk like that, you're just upset." Gerard said, maintaining his whisper.

I pulled my head away from his neck and looked into his eyes. They were upset but I looked into them with anger, "Yell at me! I got drunk, you should be pissed!! You should be screaming at me!!" I yelled, wanting him to hurt me just as I was hurting myself.

I watched as Gerard tore his eyes away from mine and he stared past me, "No." He whispered, "I'm not going to yell at you."

My bottom lip trembled as more tears found their way up to my eyes and spilled over my lids, "WHY NOT!? YELL AT ME! TELL ME I'M A FUCKING IDIOT! PLEASE!" I begged. The begging seemed to make Gerard confused as to why I would want such a thing. He knew what it was like to be hungover. He knew that I had a headache and that my ears were ringing. He also knew he didn't ever want anyone to yell at him during his hangover though.

"Why would I yell at you?" He asked calmly, wiping my tears away, "Frank, what's wrong? Why are you screaming? I know it hurts." He asked, attempting to figure me out.

Even though he wasn't pressuring me in any way, I caved. "I DESERVE IT!" I yelled, "I DESERVE TO BE HURT! TO BE IN PAIN!" I screamed before breaking down in his arms.

His arms grew tighter around my small body as he whispered to me. He told me not to speak and to calm down. I obeyed. I didn't speak, not aloud. In my mind I was screaming at myself about how pathetic I was. Gerard couldn't stop me there.

"Go to sleep." He whispered to me.

Miraculously my eyes grew heavy as I silently sobbed in his arms. They slipped shut and eventually my body went limp. I was not asleep though, I was just laying there as if I was. I couldn't move anyways, I was so tired, but I couldn't sleep. I needed to be hurt. I needed to be told by someone that I was a pathetic piece of shit.

My body was lifted up by Gerard. He carried me back to what I assumed was my room. He laid me down in my bed and pulled my blanket over me. I heard his footsteps fade but they came back not too long after they had left. I heard him set something down next to my bed. Then there was stillness and silence. I didn't know what was placed next to my bed or where Gerard had gone but I didn't really care. In all honesty I hoped he had left thinking of how much of a pathetic loser I was and I wanted what was placed in front of me to be a silent bomb that would tick - tick - tick to zero and kill me. Instead I fell asleep with that "silent bomb" next to me.