We're All Just Victims of a Crime

Being trapped in total darkness is a torment. Opening your eyes only to find that the ‘view’ doesn’t change is something that I was still getting used to. At times I felt like I was in a nightmare, only when I pinched myself I still couldn’t see. Then I would face the harsh reality that I was living it and wasn’t going to wake up anytime soon. You would think after countless mornings of the same scenario I would get used to it. But it was hard living your entire life with the gift of sight and then just not having it.

Like I said, being trapped in darkness is a torment. But accompanied with thoughts that only ended negatively? That was pure torture.

He wasn’t supposed to know, and I had taken that silent oath the day I read the letter. I had promised myself I would never utter a single word about it. Only I had broken that promise that day under the tree when I said it had been a dream. One that he was now experiencing when he shouldn’t.

How could this be happening?

Questions were constantly running through my mind after I had woken up from what I had begged to have been another nightmare. I was wrong though because I could feel his arms holding me close. I could feel his shallow breaths against the side of my head. Smell the coffee and cigarettes that seemed to have permanently stained his skin.

Did this mean I would lose him?

I didn’t need working eyes to see the night all over again as clear as day. Just the thought sent dread through my body causing my chest to tighten in anxiety. Remembering the moment I realized that I would never see Gerard Way, alive ever again. The continuous sinking feeling that managed to reach into my chest and pull in every direction. Stretching the guilt until that morning when I found him at his desk. The morning I thought I had finally snapped, but was strangely at ease with the idea.

What if he realizes that they’re not just dreams?

While I hadn’t completely told him what had happened, I had put the thought into his head. I had been so foolish to use what I knew in hopes of getting through to him. It had only backfired of course but in the long run it had helped. Now it was all sounding like some crazy game in my head.

That is what it turned into though, right? I had been given two weeks to ultimately win or lose. If I had managed to make him feel like his life was worth living for then he would live. I would have won the grand prize, and I did. I hadn’t planned on actually ‘winning’ him, but here I am being held by this magnificent and slightly odd man.

I could have lost too, and I almost did. In fact I was so convinced that I had run away. Who would have thought that I would have almost died? It seemed very Shakespeare like to me; then again I do tend to exaggerate. Ultimately my near death experience had saved him from his.

Wow, life is a bitch.

You give and take and its constant. Now I’m rambling and I can’t remember how I got on the subject much less where I started. I’m positive I’ll end up driving myself insane.

“Frankie?” his voice ghosted across my ear causing a rush of warmth to spread across my body.

When I didn’t reply he simply sighed tightening his grip on me and pressed his lips to the corner of my eye. Lingering momentarily before pulling away and settling back down beside me.

“You’re thinking pretty loud, you’re tense too so I know you’re awake,” he stated sleepily.

I was too preoccupied with the feeling of his fingertips grazing the exposed skin on my side. It was so soft that it tickled, but so slow it felt like I was being teased. If it had been another morning I would have laughed or started a tickle fight who knows. Now I never wanted the moment to end. The anxiety and fear had only been so intense twice before; the moment I saw them carry out the body bag and the night I thought I would lose him all over again.

What if they find out that he’s remembering, will all of this go away?

Suddenly all I could think of was the last time I had actually seen him. The anger in his eyes directed towards me when he was convinced that the friendship we had built was all a ploy. How he had refused to look at me when I came to drop off that letter. The coldness in his voice when he told me I was never allowed near him or his brother again. It made me wish I didn’t remember it at all.

“Frank?” he called again only this time it came off bolder.

“I’m awake,” I answered quietly staring now at what would be my ceiling.

“Are you okay?” the concern evident as he loosened his grip.

“Just thinking,” I replied absentmindedly losing focus to my memories again.

If I thought hard enough I could feel the wet grass under my hands causing my fingers to grow cold. It was the first time I had gone to visit his grave only months after they buried him forever. I had planned on visiting him for his birthday but the rain had stalled it for days.

It was the day I confessed that I was in love with him. Months too late I know and a confession to a headstone no less. I had pulled at the grass for that entire afternoon till spots had gone bare. Making small stacks of the green blades like a toddler would as I spilled my inner thoughts for the world to hear. Mainly for him to hear.

“Frank,” his voice was louder now as he shook me in my spot.

“Sorry, lost in my thoughts. What were you saying?”

“Well I was asking you why you were freaking out earlier. I’ve never seen you act like that before. It worried me and I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

I nodded all while sighing and rolling over to rest my head on his chest.

“Yeah I’m fine,” I answered quietly.

He snorted which was unlike him before he sat up causing me to fall away from his body. All too quickly he had me turned around and pulled into his lap. His warm chest pressed firmly against my back as he rested his chin on my shoulder.

“Well, I’ve got you now and I know you’re lying. You were.... God Frankie, you were practically in hysterics,” he explained.

“Well we had the same dream, Gerard,” I defended in hopes of putting the conversation to rest.

“Normally people think that’s cool. They don’t flip out and get lost in their own mind. I’m not going to let you go until you talk to me. Something is going on in that head of yours so don’t tell me there’s not. You can also call me crazy but I’m pretty sure its not good.”

If only he knew how right he was.

“Don’t ever let me go?” I wanted to slap myself for how weak that sounded.

“I’ll never let you go,” he assured me all while holding me even closer.

“No matter what right?” I continued in a quiet voice.

“Of course, now please tell me what’s wrong.”

“I want to, and I would okay? But I can’t tell you. Its not because I don’t trust you, because I do. I trust you more than anything. I just can’t tell you, and I don’t know if I could make you understand that. But please try?” I pulled away going back to leaning against his body taking his hands in mine and lacing our fingers together.

He was quiet which was something I was used to. Only there was something in the air, it wasn’t tension but there was something there. His hands tightening on mine as he let out a deep breath.

“They are dreams... right? The one about me dying that is,” his tone was uncertain; like he was worried he sounded crazy. “I mean I didn’t really die did I?”

I was sure my heart had stopped beating for only a moment as the question passed his lips. All I could think now was ‘shit.’