Troubles

I open my eyes and look up at the wall. I blink to make sure it's the real world, and then I sit up.

I look around the room briefly, making sure everything is at it should and that Mikey is still asleep. I fold up my legs and sit more relaxed.

I look down into my lap and listen to my own breathing. The first tear itches as it rolls down my cheek. The dry trail it leaves behind feels like a blade cutting my cheek open. The next tear proves that it hasn't – it doesn't hurt. At least not on the outside.

I hold my breath, trying to picture how it was for my mother to know that she'd never breathe again. I try to imagine how it is to know you're gonna die, after you've exhaled for the last time. I try to understand why she had to die.

I don't even know how she died. The police wouldn't tell me over the phone; probably because they didn't trust that I was her son.

I breathe in suddenly, taking a loud, shaky inhale. I look to the side to see Mikey stir. I hold my breath and quietly get up, walking over to the door. I press the handle down carefully and quickly open the door. I step out into the hallway and leave the door slightly open so the door handle won't noise when I go back.

I walk down the hall, letting air into my lungs again. I gasp for breath. I don't want to sob, and right now, it doesn't feel like I'm able to either. I try to take a deep breath, but it's shaky and uneven. It's so hard to breathe.

I walk into the living room and sit down on the couch. I hold a hand over my mouth and breathe through my nose, both to be quieter and to even out my breaths. I feel like my chest and stomach and everything inside the two are cramping. It's worse than a hick-up. It's all over.

I hear the lock of the front door being fiddled with, and suddenly it's something completely different I'm worried about. I try to hold my breath again as the door opens, but I only succeed for three seconds until my throat starts to hurt, feeling as if it's being ripped open.

I gasp for breath as I hope to fuck whoever's opening the door doesn't have a gun.

The door is closed, and suddenly, I feel a bit safer. Intruders don't close the door. And they definitely don't lock it afterward – blocking their only escape.

I hear light footsteps over my own heavy breathing. They suddenly stop. Then move a little. Then stop again.

“Frank?” Gerard asks.

I swallow once, gasp for breath and then turn around. Gerard looks tired – his shoulders hunched and his eyes half-closed – but through the dark, I can still see his brows are furrowed.

“What's wrong?” he whispers. His voice is slow and strained. He's obviously really tired, so I just wanna let him go to sleep.

I shake my head.

“I just had a nightmare.”

Gerard's eyebrows relax, but he doesn't leave. He doesn't move either. He just stares at me.

I look down briefly and scratch my cheek. My breathing has calmed and my throat doesn't hurt anymore. My head has started hurting, though.

“Are you okay?” No. No, I'm not. I know that. But I don't wanna burden him. He already cares too much about me to have more to worry about.

“I'm alright,” I answer. I'm alright, but I'm not okay. That's the best way I can put it right now. Technically, I'm alright, but I know something's not okay.

“Okay,” Gerard says simply, but still, he doesn't leave.

We just stare at each other for a few seconds, but I don't mind. It's sort of a comfortable silence. I don't feel desperate to find something to talk about, but again, I feel like I can talk about anything.

Just, not right now.

“I'm gonna go to bed,” he suddenly says, seeming kind of regretful for saying it. I get up, deciding to go to bed too so that he won't feel awkward for leaving me here.

“Yeah, me too.” I walk towards him and smile weakly, but he doesn't smile back. I guess he can see that it's fake.

He nods. I stop in front of him, waiting for him to walk towards his room so I can say goodnight and walk to Mikey's, but he just looks down into my eyes.

Slowly, he lifts his arms up and wraps them around me. He pulls me into a soft hug. At first, I expect him to let go pretty fast, so I don't try to return it, but he holds on. So, after a few seconds, I wrap my arms around his middle and hug him back. I can feel him relax a little as I do.

“Goodnight,” he whispers. I feel him lean his cheek on my head, his breath tickling my hair, before he loosens his grip around me. I do too.

“Goodnight,” I say back, as we pull away from one another and make eye-contact. He smiles softly, and it isn't until then that I notice that I am too.

He turns and walks down the hall and through the open doorway to the basement. I walk after him, turning left down the hall towards the bedrooms. I hear his heavy steps as he trudges down the stairs, and before I click Mikey's door shut, I hear him close his.

I lie down on the futon and fall asleep quickly.