But If We Sing These Words, We'll Never Die.

I drove around for hours, endlessly, hoping that I'd find Frank. I started off near the school. I drove the way that he had run, hoping that maybe he'd just be walking along the side of the road and I could just scoop him up into my arms, take him home, and hold him hostage in my bedroom and just not let go of him. I wanted so desperately to find him. I wanted him back. The longer I drove, the more I thought about those words, which played over and over again. Thinking back to this morning's events only made me depressed. It got to the point where I just wanted to crawl into bed, but I knew that I had to find him. I pulled out my phone and dialed his number. Again there was no answer. "Frank, please, call me. Answer your phone. Come home. I beg you. I'm not sure what happened this morning, but love, we can work through this. I'm so worried right now. Call me, okay?"

A week passed and still no one had seen Frank. His parents filed a report with the police station and they were sending out search parties until they decided it was no use and that he'd probably be dead by now. Every day I blaimed myself more and more. I'd walk into class hoping that one day, he'd be sitting in his chair, smiling and waiting for me. As two weeks passed, I too started to think that Frank was dead. Every now and then I'd call his phone just to hear his voice. I started spending my nights in bars, drinking until the pain would go away. When I would come home, I'd grab a beer and a bottle of pills and take a few. One day as I was coming in to my room, with the beer bottle in one hand and the bottle of pills in the other, I saw a man sitting on my bed. It looked like Frank, but I assumed it was someone trying to play a trick on me. I chucked the beer bottle at him. He ducked and the bottle hit the wall. Glass flew everywhere and so did the beer. I started screaming, cussing, and using made up words that I had never even heard of before. The man sat there and listened to it all and when I hadcalmed down a bit, he stood up, pinned me against the wall, and kissed me deeply. "I'm sorry Gerard. I'm sorry I never called. I'm so sorry." He whispered against my lips. I wrapped my arms around him and started to shake and cry. He held me in his arms, whispering into my ear telling me how much he loved me and how much he was sorry.

"I thought you were dead Frank! I missed you so much. I never thought I'd see you again, you asshole!" My happiness turned to anger and I punched him.

"Calm down, Gerard. You're drunk. Come here, lay down."

"Don't touch me you bastard! You left me here to think you were dead! I blaimed myself every god damn day!"

"I know, I'm sorry Gerard. I should have called. I should have even left. I thought about you all the time. Please forgive me, please!"

"Get the fuck out of my room. You aren't welcome here. Not after all of this."

Frank left looking sad and hurt, but there was no way he could have ever been as hurt as me. The sight of Frank made me so angry and hurt. I just wanted to get away from everyone. I took a few pills, hoping that they'd help me. Then I took a few more and a few more. Soon I took a whole bottle of pills and eventually I lost track of how many I had taken.