We're All Dead Now.

"I miss you," said Frank, staring down at the ground, reminding himself not to look up. Just pretend he's here. He's not gone.

"And.. I never got to tell you, this, Gerard, but.. I love you."

He paused, waiting for an answer which would never come.

Frank had always had trouble accepting things, his homosexuality, the fact that his best friend was an alcoholic.. Who was in love with someone else. A woman. It's just so fucking hard, accepting things. Now he's having trouble accepting that Gerard is not here. He's gone. He's 6 feet under, rotting in the ground. He would like to think that Gerard is in heaven, but then he thinks, if God were real, how could He do this to Frank? He'd always been a good kid, he smoked a little weed here and then but he hardly ever disobeyed God's 'rules'. How could He take away the only person Frank had, and could ever love? How? How could someone be so cruel?

How could He do this to Gerard?

If God existed, he can not be as good and great as the bible says, he thought.

He finally looked up at the tombstone, which read, "Gerard Way, 1990-2007.”

17 is way too young to be gone. It’s way too young to feel like you should be gone, really.

Frank tried to push the memories away. He couldn’t, no. He can’t forget about that night. He can’t forget about the last time he saw Gerard.

Gerard, smiling and waving goodbye to Frank, who was just leaving Gerard’s home. He left him home alone. You don’t do that when a person who is normally suicidal is going through a hard time. He should have known not to, but he was tired. He was sad, too. He couldn’t bare to look at his best friend being sad again. What was even worse about the whole situation was that Gerard tried to act happy, he tried to hide it. He tried to hide behind the alcohol.

Frank sat down and put his face in his hands, letting the anger and sadness out.

He could have stopped it. He should have.

The next day Frank awoke to his mother cooking him breakfast, something that never happened. Frank didn’t expect anything.. Of course not.

I’m an idiot, he thought.

He sat down and quietly enjoyed his breakfast, when he was done and got back up to go upstairs to call Gerard, his mother told him to sit down. She then told Frank that the night before, Gerard had shot himself. Had shot his brains out.

Frank blinked, walked to the bathroom and threw uo all his food. He felt so sick. So, so sick.

Frank wiped a tear away.

“Gerard, I’m sorry.”

He then opened his backpack and pulled three bottles of Paxil. He had googled if you could overdose on that before he had come to visit Gerard.

He’d always been the coward, so Frank went with a slow, easy death.

He poured out the pills, one bottle at a time into his mouth and swallowed.

“I can’t do this anymore.” Frank whispered.

Leaning back on Gee’s tombstone, Frank closed his eyes and fell asleep.