God's Image Reflected in Your Eyes

Second update in 24 hours. Check you read Chapter 7 =D

The flames danced in Frank's eyes as he watched, with a sick sense of amazement, his house burning down.

The wailing sound of a siren came from a distance, but it was painfully obvious that it was far too late.

He'd really done it this time.

Gerard was unsure on what to do next, comfort the boy, leave him - before he got in too deep, or move him to safety?

His choice was made for him however, when Frank suddenly shot towards the burning building.

"What the..?" he shouted exasperatedly as he watched Frank's rapidly retreating figure.

It was becoming routine, he thought as he too burst towards the house after destiny.

By the time the blur of the front door was passing him, Gerard had lost sight of Frank. Smoke swirled around the house, suffocating it and anything inside, forcing Gerard to cough as he inhaled some of the burning substance.

Desperately looking around with his watery eyes, he decided his best bet was upstairs, where the fire seemed to be less.

Cautiously moving up the singed stairs, frantically searching, Gerard called out to Frank.

When no reply was heard, he grew worried. He reached the top of the staircase and took into account the doors in front of him, coming to the easy conclusion that Frank's room would be the one with the Green Day poster sprawled against the wood.

"Frank?" he remembered the test for fire from school, he placed the back of his hand on the handle. Cold.

When he opened the door he was afraid of what he was going to see.

But it was a normal room, no evidence of what the owner endured day in, day out just a small room with band posters placed on the wall.

But if Gerard had looked more closely, if the house hadn't have been alight he would have noticed that some of the posters were ripped down the middle, taped amateurly back together, or he may have noticed the lack of photos, the blood stained t-shirt hanging over a chair or the burn mark in the carpet, in the shape of two hands, next to the window.

Frank himself was on his knees in front of his bed. His head was low as he desperately searched.

"Frank what the fuck man?" Gerard exclaimed as he watched the child rummage through magazines and junk under the bed.

He felt a strange sadness come over him - he could heal the exterior, but the inside, he couldn't get his hands on. Was Frank damaged that bad?

Emotional damage was something Gerard had first hand experience in, but he'd never been so stupid or... so crazy.

Frank's thoughts were frantic and worried as he tore through his belongings.

Where was it?

A sick feeling entered his senses, merging with the burning stench of smoke.

Had his father found it?

A bitter taste entered his mouth at the thought. But no, a gleam caught his eye - the black shiny box, he remembered putting it in there. He was sure of it.

Sure enough when Frank ripped open the box his eyes found themselves staring at another's. So similar to his, so full of life.

Gerard had broken out of his dark thoughts when Frank had found the box, curiosity had taken over him.

The feelings he had been experienced were quickly replaced by immediate understanding and relief.

Frank wasn't crazy, broken maybe, but not crazy.

In his shaking hands, Frank held an old picture of a young woman, her eyes shone in the light from a flash - long black hair flowed down her shoulders, contrasting against her bright white smile which occupied her face.

She sat on her knees, leaning on long grass, on a large hill overlooking a city.

Gerard tore his eyes away from the beautiful woman and they met Frank's tear filled irises.

"My Mom." he whispered, smiling sadly at the photo.