5 Months

It had been 5 months since Frank was admitted into the hospital. 5 long months. And them months were no longer happy. The cancer had slowly eaten away at his insides for 5 months. Killing him from the inside, as he called it. It was heartbreaking seeing him struggling for 5 months, knowing that nothing could be done to save him. The chemotherapy didn’t work. It just drained all his energy. The hardest part of seeing him was the beautiful smile he always had on his face. He was always strong, even though he knew he would eventually die. There was a time when everyone thought that he was going to live, and that he would survive the cancer, but that quickly passed away. He was doing so well. It was awful; seeing the look on his face when the results were in that it was, in fact, terminal cancer. Heartbreaking wouldn’t be the right word to use.

Gerard would never be able to cope; seeing Frank die. During the 5 months that Frank was in the hospital, him and Gerard had developed a wonderful friendship. To some, it was more than friendship. To some, they were in love. Gerard was Frank’s doctor. His counsellor to help him cope. He would miss him the most. Frank spent everyday with Gerard, and every night, Gerard thought of him. He was a doctor. He was trained to get over deaths of patients, but everyone knew that he wouldn’t react well.

Frank was only 26. Laying in his deathbed, he looked much older. His once smooth skin was wrinkled, his lips were chapped and every strand of his dark brown hair had fallen off his head. He was trying to say something, but Gerard pressed his index finger against his lips to stop him. Doctors were surrounding him. His heart monitor was beeping slowly to itself. Beep, beep, beep. He was struggling. Tears filled the eyes of many of the doctors. A nurse was by his left, squeezing his hand in reassurance. Gerard to his right, whispering silently in his ear, and stroking his hair softly, soothing him.

“G-Gerard?”

“Shh.” He closed Frank’s mouth. “Don’t speak.” He whispered.

“I-I love you. K-Kiss me.”

Gerard picked up his hand and kissed it lightly.

“K-Kiss me.” He said again.

“I just did, honey.”

“A-Again.”

Gerard kissed his cheek lightly.

“M-More.”

Gerard kissed his forehead.

“P-Please, G-Gerard. I want to kiss you before I go.”

“Go where, honey?”

“To heaven.”

Gerard felt tears in his eyes.

“I-I want to share my last kiss with you.”

Gerard hesitated. But he slowly leaned over his body and kissed his lips soothingly. No tongues, just Frank rubbing his chapped lips along Gerard’s.

“I love you.”

Frank’s eyes slowly closed and the heart monitor went to a constant beep.

“F-Frankie?” Gerard burst into tears and knelt beside his bedside. He sobbed aloud as he was pulled away by doctors.

On the 29th December, at 3:12 p.m., Frank Anthony Iero, aged 26, took his last breath. Rest in peace.