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Shadow Creeks Mental Asylum
Frank's Story
I’m Frank Iero, I’m just about to turn sixteen, and I’m a pill popper.
It started freshman year. I was on the football team, and I felt on top of the world. No drugs, no alcohol, no smoking, just one healthy body.
Well, during one game, I jumped up to catch the ball, and a beefy guy from the other team tackled me to the ground, and I shattered a few ribs, as well as broke my collar bone. The pain was horrible. I felt like I was going to die.
The doctors put me on a lot of vicodin, and oxycodone to help relieve the pain. I was taking unknown amounts of both painkillers a day, my tolerance for it just becoming higher and higher.
Once my collar bone and ribs had healed, I had come to realize that I was addicted to the pain killers. From pain killers, I moved onto other pills that people had claimed would make me numb. So many unlabeled and generic pain killers, so many just random pills that people had stolen from their parents, and I just kept popping them.
Two pills turned into six, then quickly into ten and it just kept growing. I couldn’t stop. I would sell my CDs, DVDs, magazines, everything to get money to afford it.
I was unstoppable at this rate, mixing pills together, crushing and snorting some, mixing alcohol with others. It was like candy, and I was like a two year old in the candy aisle.
Well, until someone gave me an unknown dosage. They seemed weak at first, so I popped more into my mouth. Before I knew it, I was clinging to a small strand of life. I had overdosed without realizing it. Due to that, they thought I was suicidal and sent me on a one way plane here.
Now I’m at a mental ward in the middle of fucking nowhere with one friend. The depressed cutter, Gerard Way, and that’s all I really need in here. He’s a sweet guy, just really shy and reserved. Plus, his roommate’s a drunken asshole who doesn’t give a fuck about anyone else, except the guy in the room next to me, Ben Bruce.
Gerard and I are super close, and we’ve shared our entire life stories with each other. I feel bad for him, I really do. His baby brother was killed by a gang that went to my school. I knew some of the gangsters that were involved in that shooting, so I feel like it brings me slightly closer to Gerard.
I’m his escort whenever he wants to go anywhere, and he makes sure that I don’t try taking anyone else’s pills, even though I have a feeling I could easily get them from Andy or Ashley. Those two hate taking theirs.
Wait, why am I even thinking about that? I’m here to get better, and fuck, I’m going to. I don’t feel like meeting the grim reaper anytime soon.
It started freshman year. I was on the football team, and I felt on top of the world. No drugs, no alcohol, no smoking, just one healthy body.
Well, during one game, I jumped up to catch the ball, and a beefy guy from the other team tackled me to the ground, and I shattered a few ribs, as well as broke my collar bone. The pain was horrible. I felt like I was going to die.
The doctors put me on a lot of vicodin, and oxycodone to help relieve the pain. I was taking unknown amounts of both painkillers a day, my tolerance for it just becoming higher and higher.
Once my collar bone and ribs had healed, I had come to realize that I was addicted to the pain killers. From pain killers, I moved onto other pills that people had claimed would make me numb. So many unlabeled and generic pain killers, so many just random pills that people had stolen from their parents, and I just kept popping them.
Two pills turned into six, then quickly into ten and it just kept growing. I couldn’t stop. I would sell my CDs, DVDs, magazines, everything to get money to afford it.
I was unstoppable at this rate, mixing pills together, crushing and snorting some, mixing alcohol with others. It was like candy, and I was like a two year old in the candy aisle.
Well, until someone gave me an unknown dosage. They seemed weak at first, so I popped more into my mouth. Before I knew it, I was clinging to a small strand of life. I had overdosed without realizing it. Due to that, they thought I was suicidal and sent me on a one way plane here.
Now I’m at a mental ward in the middle of fucking nowhere with one friend. The depressed cutter, Gerard Way, and that’s all I really need in here. He’s a sweet guy, just really shy and reserved. Plus, his roommate’s a drunken asshole who doesn’t give a fuck about anyone else, except the guy in the room next to me, Ben Bruce.
Gerard and I are super close, and we’ve shared our entire life stories with each other. I feel bad for him, I really do. His baby brother was killed by a gang that went to my school. I knew some of the gangsters that were involved in that shooting, so I feel like it brings me slightly closer to Gerard.
I’m his escort whenever he wants to go anywhere, and he makes sure that I don’t try taking anyone else’s pills, even though I have a feeling I could easily get them from Andy or Ashley. Those two hate taking theirs.
Wait, why am I even thinking about that? I’m here to get better, and fuck, I’m going to. I don’t feel like meeting the grim reaper anytime soon.
♠ ♠ ♠
Four down, two to go.