There's Something Wrong With Gerard

I don’t know how, but in the early hours of the morning I finally got myself to sleep. It was extremely hard, seeing as all kinds of shit has been going on lately. It didn’t matter much, I am a teenager right? Isn’t that what teenagers do? Stay up all night partying, or worrying about their friend who could be dead? Yeah, that’s normal.

‘Knock knock’ went my door, making me groan slightly, and freeze up. Who was knocking on my door? Sure, Mikey acted like my alarm clock, since I broke all my other ones, and woke me up each morning. But he knocked on my window. Not the door, my window. I mean, why the hell would he enter my house, climb the stairs to knock on my bedroom entrance? He’s not that active.

Which brought me back to the question, who was at my door? Luckily for me, and I say luckily in the most sarcastic way, my question was answered by a screeching voice. Also known as, my mother.

“FRANKIE!” She screeched, a screech that would make dogs across the town howl. I groaned and rolled over, covering my head in frustration. Wasn’t she suppose to be at work? “FRANKIE!” Her hand collided with the wood of my door once again. Well, I guess she wanted to stay home today.

“I’M GETTING UP, FUCK!” Flipping the blankets off of my body, I moved myself to the edge of the bed to sit.

“Don’t you use that language in MY house Frankie!” I rolled my eyes and decided it was best not to reply. Sometimes it felt more like her house, and not my home.

My eyes danced out the window to look over at the Ways house. It looked like a house, but was I really expecting that to change? No, I didn’t know what I was expecting to see. Maybe a four-eyed little boy sitting outside my window. But nope, all I got was a house. So instead of trying to win a stare down with the house, I moved myself to get dressed for the hellish looking day.

I didn’t put much thought into what was going on my body. I mean, who was I dressing up for anyways? The teachers? In their dreams. Which, knowing those pedo-bears of teachers, I was probably not wearing much. God that gave me the creeps, thinking about having sex with the teachers. I’d rather watch a Paris Hilton sex tape. Then again, that’s just me. Some people like having sex for teachers and anyone else they can get their hands on. By some people, I mean Sydney Louise.

A small growl noise came from inside me, as I told myself not to think of her. That’s what my shrink told me to do at least. Not to think of little miss Sydney on my own time, and to think of better and happier things. Like, killing Sydney. Yeah, that would be great! I told my shrink that once.

She didn’t find it as funny as I did.

My outfit for the day consisted of a pair of black and ripped skinnys, along with an old, underground band tee that fit swell over the tattoos my mom begged me not to get. The glare of my face reflected back at me through the small, broken make-up mirror as I applied my red eyeliner to the green eyes on my face, hoping to god not to poke myself with the eyeliner pencil. My prayers were not answered, and soon enough my right eye was watering and I was cursing at my make-up tool. Luckily, messed up red eyeliner was easier to fix then black.

Books and papers were shoved into my small backpack as I threw it over my shoulder and on my back. Before I left, I took one last look in the full length mirror that was stationed behind my door. I had to admit, I looked like the perfect target for people at school. At least that’s what Sydney Louise thought. There’s that damn name again. Sydney Louise. Perfect, fit, blonde haired Sydney. She was like that character in stories, the one that thought she was all that and everyone liked her for some unknown reason. She was a plastic copy of all evil, and I was the one who got the worse of her wrath. I shook my head and left the sanctuary of my room, not taking another glance at my reflection.

“BYE MOM” I screamed, flying down the stairs and out the door. The clock on my wrist said I had five minutes to get to school. I ignored it and got there in ten.

“You’re late” My teacher stated as I walked in the classroom. I had to hold back the urge to roll my eyes at him.

“You’re lucky I came” I muttered, to low for him to hear. My eyes wandered to the empty desk at the back. Good, my seat was saved. I smirked and took my place, putting my books and things on the empty desk beside me. No one sat by me, which wasn’t a shocker. I’m sure Sydney told everyone I had rabies and bite or some shit.

“Now class, today-” I droned out the teachers voice, and paid more attention to the ceiling. It was the same as yesterday, white and bleak. ‘Maybe if I stare at it long enough, it could change’ I thought to myself, so I stared and stared for who knows how long. I probably look like an idiot, just staring at the ceiling as if I’m being hypnotized. I didn’t care, nothing could snap me out of this. Only the bell to the next class or-

“Mr. Way! Welcome back!” The teacher voice interrupted my thoughts. I sat up straight, snapping my head to the front of the class. Way? No, it couldn’t be…. Could it?

Surely enough, it was. Gerard Way was standing at the front of the class in all his glory. He looked the same, but different. Paler, more tired and there was something else. Something in his face that seemed off, I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

“Thanks” Gerard replied in a whisper, his eyes scanning over the class and narrowing down on me. It sent shivers down my spine and unconsciously I moved back and lowered myself in my desk. Something was definitely wrong. Gerard moved and took his seat. Right. Beside. Me. I literally had to hide my excitement. Gerard hasn’t sat by me since grade nine. Maybe he was trying to be friendly again. One can only hope.

All my excitement was pushed away when I turned to look at him. Oh god, he looked even more awful up front. His skin was paler then usual, sickly pale. Dark bags lay under his eyes, as if sleep hasn’t come to him in months. The black hair was tangled and looked as if he was loosing it. It was if he had cancer or something, and it worried me the most.

“Gerard?” I whispered uncertainly, head down to pretend I was continuing my work. I got no response though. His arms remained limply on his side, and he was staring down on the blank paper. I tried again. “Gerard?” I received a shock when Gerard slammed his head into the desk. Luckily the teacher was to engrossed with the educational film to notice Gerard hitting his head against the desk over and over again.

My hand slowly moved out to touch Gerard once he stopped his slamming and just laid his head on the desk. It shook uncontrollably. I was about to touch his shoulder when suddenly, his hand gripped mine. I didn’t even see it moved, but suddenly it held my hand in a tight grip. Slowly, ever so slowly, his head turns to face me, making me even more frighten. His eyes. His eyes looked like those of a murder, dark and angry.

“Don’t” He said firmly, throwing my hand back at me. As soon as the bell rung, he stomped out and I was left clutching my almost broken hand.

What the hell just happened?