Misery Loves Me

I do what I always do when people beat me up: I protect my head with my arms and let them beat me. It only hurts more when I try to defend myself. And why would I defend myself against it when it’s the only thing I’m worthy of? It only dawns on me that they aren’t out on beating me when I hear Mikey’s voice. Then I realize it isn’t the hand of a bully, but Mikey’s. When that information reaches my brain, I slowly lower my arms. But I’m still not a hundred percent that I’m perfectly save around Mikey. What if he has changed his mind about me?

“I won’t hurt you Frank, stop thinking that.” Am I that easy to read? I now see that Gerard is standing behind Mikey, both with that weird expression showing on their face.

“We’ve missed you this weekend.” Is Gerard telling the truth? I don’t believe it, but his voice sounds sincere.

“Yeah, you never told us were you live, or your phone number, so we couldn’t contact you.” That does make sense, but I still can’t believe that someone misses me. I’m sure my face is as confused and skeptical as my thoughts, because Mikey sighs and looks sad.

“You’re really not gonna believe us anytime soon, do you?” I wish that I could say that, no, I believe them, but I can’t. They just need to realize how horrible I am, and then they will leave me, just like anyone else. I shrug my shoulders and look at my feet. They can just leave me now, it would hurt less than when they do in the future.

“I’m not giving up, you know? I will let you know just how much you’re worth, and that’s as much, or even more, as the other people here in school.” Mikey puts an arm around my shoulder and starts walking towards our lockers. He starts talking to Gerard who’s walking on the other side of me. I listen to their conversation until I notice people looking at us.

“Look there!”
“What?”
“See that? There? The new boys and the little emo fag?”
“What!? They’re real fags! Look that one has an arm around the fag’s shoulder!”
“FAGS! Stay out of my view! I don’t need to see things like that!”
“Ugh! They’re disgusting!” See? I knew it was bad to socialize with me! Even talking to me could go wrong. I’m afraid to look at Mikey’s and Gerard’s face, but I have to know how they’re reacting, so I look up to them through my bangs. Mikey is shooting them death glares. If glares would kill, they would be suffering an incredibly painful death by now. He’s not dropping his arm, like I thought he would, but he just pulls me closer. It’s like he tries to tell me not to worry without words. I don’t know what’s wrong with him! Why does he do all of these things for me? Now I look up to Gerard, expecting him to either shoot death glares like Mikey, or give me a somehow reassuring smile. But he does neither of these things, he’s looking at his shoes like he’s really hurt. Does it finally dawn on him that I’m no good? But why does he look so hurt? I feel bad, I’m obviously the reason he looks like this.

We’ve passed the people who were shouting at us, and we’ve reached our lockers.
“Don’t let them get to you, they don’t know what they’re talking about,” why does it sound like Mikey isn’t only talking to me, but to Gerard too? I get my pen and little notebook Mikey gave me and begin writing.

“You don’t have to stick around. You’ll only get more of this if you stay with me. I understand that you don’t want to be seen with the little emo fag. I’m disgusting, and you’ll get bullied because of me.” I write and let Mikey and Gerard read it. I’d feel sad if they left me, but I think it’ll be the best for them. After reading it Mikey shakes his head.

“You don’t understand Frank. For one: we won’t let you get beaten up, just because you’re different. Secondly: we’d be bullied anyways. Haven’t you noticed that we aren’t like them either? We don’t like the same things, we wear different clothes, we do things differently and they won’t accept it. They don’t accept us. And we won’t let them decide about what and who we like.”

“We’ll never trade you for them. That’d be stupid, you’re much better.” I feel all warm inside after these words. They really care about me, and it’s not really my fault they get bullied.

“Come here, group hug!” Mikey calls. He pulls me and Gerard together and wraps his arms around us. We follow his example, and it feels good. It feels good to have friends who care about you. It feels good to know that I’m not alone. I still feel warm and weird inside and I feel another thing. The corners of my lips pull up, for the slightest bit. Muscles I haven’t used since forever. But now it’s on my face: the smallest smile.