Lily Baby.

Frank’s Dreamworld.
Three boys sat in a garden, slumped under a large oak tree. Two seemed to be only around 8 or 9 but the other looked about two or three years their senior. The largest one had short dark hair and hazel eyes. He sat with his eyes closed, one of the younger boys leant against his knees staring out onto the grass. He had mousey brown hair and round spectacles which seemed to enlarge his eyes, which were very similar to that of the older boy. The third boy sat a little bit further from the others, inhaling quickly, he seemed out of breath. He had by far the darkest hair and his skin was slightly darker than the other two boys and was by far the smallest.

The smallest started to yawn, creating a domino effect on the other two, who rubbed their eyes watching the sun fall in the distance.

“I don’t want the day to end…” muttered the smallest one, pulling his knees up into his chest and pouting, “Don’t go down, Sun!”

The oldest boy reached out to ruffle his hair, laughing as he did, “Aw, Frankie, we can play tomorrow too!”

“No we can’t…” the boy named Frank huffed.

“Why not?” inquired the brown haired boy, his infantile voice ringing in the breeze.

“Because you guys have to go see Lily in that dumb spelling bee,” he grumbled, unhappily.

“Oh, yeah, sorry…” said the oldest boy, “Mikey and I will try and make mom drive fast so we can get home and play.”

Frank sighed wistfully, “I wish you’re stupid sister would stop messing things up.”

Mikey giggled, “Yeah… well you don’t have to live with her.”

Frank stretched his entire body out like a cat and said, “She’s eight, right? Why is she so smart?”

“She’s smarter than Gerard and he’s eleven!” giggled Mikey, earning a swift pat on the shoulder from Gerard.

“Hey, I’m smarter than you!” Gerard muttered.

Their conversation was stopped as they saw a small black haired girl skip up the path to where they sat, “Hi!”

She plonked herself down on the grass next to Frank and smiled at the other two happily. Even at such a young age it was apparent that when she grew up she’d be amazing looking. Her eyes were large and shone in the fading light. Her irises seemed to be a fusion of hazel and swirls of blue in between. Not just normal eyes; amazing eyes. Eyes that makes anyone stop and stare and think ‘Was that real? Does that colour exist? Who was that?’ Those type of eyes.

Frank huffed at her presence, “What do you want?”

“Can you test me on my spellings?” she asked sweetly to Frank’s disgust.

“No! Lily, go away!” he cried, Mikey and Gerard merely laughed at his outburst.

She looked angered by him, “Fine, Frank! I’ll just lose at the spelling bee then!”

Tears filled her perfect eyes as she got up throwing her cue cards at him in a blind rage.

“I hate you!” she cried, fat crystals of water, dripping down her cheeks.

Frank leapt to his feet after her holding some of the cue cards up in her face, “Well, I hate you too!”

He ripped them into millions of miniscule pieces before her very eyes and threw them like confetti above their heads.

“Spell that!” he screamed, as the tears ran freely down her face. She shoved him backwards and he yelped as he hit the floor with a thud.

She began to run back along the garden path, her long waves of hair flying out behind her as she ran.

“You made her cry again, Frankie,” said Mikey, stating the obvious.

“Yup,” Frankie said, but Gerard frowned.

“Being older than you, I’m gonna say that I think you’re too harsh on Lil. She only wants to be friends with you…” he said, sighing. He was obviously the voice of reason.

“I know, I just don’t like her!” he said, agitated.

“Why?”

“Ugh, I don’t know!” Frank said, angrily, “I don’t understand why…”

“Okay,” Gerard nodded as he nudged Mikey into a sitting position and said, “We’ve got to go… mom will be mad at us if we stay out all night… again.”

Frank chuckled excitedly and stood up along with his friends, “Let’s go!”

They ran down the path, oblivious to the small figure hunched up in the old tree house, situated within the very branches of the old oak tree…

“Mom! I don’t wanna go!” Frank whined, “Spelling Bee’s are boring!”

“I know honey, but I wanna show Lily my support, you know how nervous she’s been!” Frank’s mother said as she put various objects in her bag, “And you can see Gerard and Mikey, so you’ll have fun!”

“Yeah. Okay…” he gave in, sighing.

The boy dreaded his cooperation later when he was packed in a stuffy hall instead of out in the open like he wished he was.

“Spell ‘complain,’” said the woman with the monotone voice to yet another snivelling little kid.

A woman called Donna snorted, “That’s easy.”

But the kid didn’t think so: “K-O…”

“Wrong,” interrupted the woman, over the sounds of yet another weeping child.

“Next up, Lily Way!”

“Oh yeah! That’s my girl!” yelled Donna, “Come on baby!”

A small girl meekly stepped up to the microphone and tapped it hesitantly.

“Spell ‘onomatopoeia,’” said the woman.

“Oh no…” muttered Donna muttered, “I knew it… Boys, did you practice those cue cards I gave Lily with her?”

“No… Frank said no,” Mikey whispered.

Donna shot Frank a look.

“Maybe she knows it…” said Frank’s mom.

“Um... ugh, O-N-O-M-A-T-O-P… E-I-A?”

“Wrong.”

“That’s okay, honey!” yelled Donna as Lily walked off stage. Moments later she had crept out into the audience and moved over to where her family and ‘friends’ sat.

“Mom… can we leave?” she sniffed. Donna nodded.

And so they all left.

“It was on the cards…” Lily muttered to Frank, Gerard and Mikey, later that night. The small black haired boy looked down at his shoes in embarrassment.

A sixteen year old boy turned in his sleep yet did not wake…

“Frank!” screamed Lily as she stood opposite him, “Stop it! Give it back!”

The boy, who now seemed to be a year older possibly, brandished a black leather bound book which Lily jumped up and down for.

“Give it!”

“No!” he shouted, taunting her with it. He was a short boy, yet she was shorter.

“Give me back my diary!” she screeched before placing her hand over her mouth in embarrassment.

“Diary?” Frank said, interested now, “You write a diary?”

“Yes, give it now,” she was fuming.

“Aw, you’re no fun, I wanna see what Princess Lily writes about!” he giggled running along the paving stones.

“No!” she screamed again, chasing after him.

He ran through the gate and along the small alley which led to the road. He darted across and got to the other side unscathed, although he barely glanced as the cars raced by. Lily wasn’t so lucky.

The squeal of brakes. The ear-splitting scream. The crunch of metal against bone. Silence.

Frank turned to see Lily’s motionless body in the middle of the road. He saw Donna run out from where she stood by the window to see her crushed daughter.

He should have stayed.

But he turned and ran, stashing the diary in his closet when he reached his home and throwing himself under the covers. The image of Lily Way sprawled on the road fresh on his mind.

Frank Iero woke up screaming, in a pool of his own sweat. He sat up quickly, clutching at the bed sheets, tears falling thick and fast down his smooth cheeks.

“No…” he breathed, before staring at the closet which was in his very dream. No, not in his dream.

In his memory. A memory that had been forgotten or blocked out for far too long. Maybe it had been far too upsetting for a 9 year old boy to bear but now, at 16, he realised that his girlfriend had been brutally damaged. Because of him.

The closet was gaping open and he stared at it. The diary. He didn’t remember ever reading that diary. Maybe he didn’t.

Frank rushed out of bed and began to thoroughly search his closet. He barely knew what the diary looked like. It was black, he knew that much. But there were many black things in his closet.

His fingers scrabbled at every nook and cranny to no avail, until…

“Ow!” he muttered, as his head hit he shelf creating sections of the closet. He looked up and saw a black thing with faded paper poking out the corner, “What…”

He grabbed it and realised what it was. He flicked open to the last page with writing on and searched the text hungrily.

I wish he knew how I felt about him… but whenever I try and be nice to him, he always acts horribly. I want to hate him, diary… But I can’t. I just can’t hate Frank Iero…