A Picture Changed My Life Forever
The Results
- - GEE'S P.O.V - -
We took a cab to the hospital. Thankfully, Ray has his wallet at all times.
When we reached Frank's room, I noticed that Sam never let go of his hand. Somtimes, I tink she has a crush on him.
At that thought, I giggled slightly which caught Frank's attention.
"What?" he said.
I openned my mouth to tease them, but the doctor came in. "Hello, Mr. Iero. I'm Doctor Beshkins."
I chuckled. Who names a person Beshkins?
Dr. Beshkins looked at me. "Anyway, we'll have to do an x-ray on your fingers and your foot to see if your skateboarding accident did any major damage. If you'll come with me," he continued.
"He can't come with you, bastard. He can't walk," Sam said. Seeing Frank like this and blaming it all on herself obviously put her in a crabby mood.
Dr. Beshkins turned to look at the girl with bloodshot eyes and a tear stricken face. "That's why we brought him a wheel chair," he said sternly.
"He's not old," she muttered to herself.
We waited anxiously in Frank's hospital room for the results. Frank hasn't come back yet so Sam and I laid on his bed. Bob did his drum beating thing on himself. He did it to Mikey, too, after several minutes of Mikey's begging. Ray paced the room quietly.
All in all, we were in the hospital room in silence. The only sounds you could hear were Sam's sobbing, Ray's footsteps and Bob's drumsticks.
Sam had her face on my chest and I put my arm over her. She was still sobbing, blaming everything on herself. "It's my fault he's like that, Gerard. It's my fault," she kept on saying.
I stroked her hair affectionately. "It's not your fault. It's the fault of the people who built the skate park. Putting bumps like that down there is dangerous, and it's a sad thing they didn't do anything about it. It's not your fault the wheel came off. Nothing's your fault," I explained.
"But it's my fault he was on the skateboard in the first place."
I had nothing to sya to that. It wasn't her fault he was on it anyway. Sure, she insisted he skateboard, but it's not her fault. The word "fault" just has a deep meaning and sounds so negative, but there's nothing negative about asking him to skateboard.
Instead, I just continued to stroke her hair when Frank came in the door with Dr. Beshkins pushing him on the wheelchair.
A nurse followed him with the results of the x-ray.
I carried Sam off the bed. Ray sat her on his knee and wrapped his arms around her.
Frank limped to the bed and laid down there. He looked at Sam who never took her eyes off him. He smiled slyly. "I'm okay. It doesn't look like it, but I feel much better," he said.
Dr. Beshkins openned the envelope and took the x-ray thingy (WHAT DO YOU CALL THAT?) and passed it around. "He broke a few of his left fingers, and he has a nasty bruise on his foot. He can't walk around until tomorrow, and even then, he would still feel a slight pain while walking, so I suggest he walk as little as possible tomorrow. He can come out tomorrow early morning, too."
Frank looked disappointed but he nodded anyway.
"Which means he can't go on tour, nor play the guitar," the nurse said. She grinned. "I'm a big fan. It's different though. Being a nurse and being fan. Your songs are about death, and I see people dying everyday."
I smiled. The last thing I would expect was having a nurse as a fan.
Dr. Beshkins looked taken aback... for... no good reason. But I'm sure he's wondering why his intern took a fancy in an alternative rock band with five major cut-ups as members.
The doctor and the nurse walked out of the room, only after Miss Nurse got our autographs. Except for Frank's, of course.
The room was quiet again. This time the only sounds you could hear was Sam tyring to stop the tears from coming down any longer.
Frank giggled. "You guys are acting as if I have cancer."
There was a quiet peal of laughter. You can't stop Frank even when he's hurt. He'll just make a joke out of everything.
Sam got off Ray's knee and walked to the edge of Frank's bed. She openned her mouth to say something but her voice was so hoarse and cracky from all the crying.
Frank looked at her intently and pulled her into his arms. The tears began to violently spill down her face.
I took this as a cue to leave the room. I gathered Bob, Ray and Mikey and dragged them out the door with a sly grin on my face.
I wonder what those two will talk about...
We took a cab to the hospital. Thankfully, Ray has his wallet at all times.
When we reached Frank's room, I noticed that Sam never let go of his hand. Somtimes, I tink she has a crush on him.
At that thought, I giggled slightly which caught Frank's attention.
"What?" he said.
I openned my mouth to tease them, but the doctor came in. "Hello, Mr. Iero. I'm Doctor Beshkins."
I chuckled. Who names a person Beshkins?
Dr. Beshkins looked at me. "Anyway, we'll have to do an x-ray on your fingers and your foot to see if your skateboarding accident did any major damage. If you'll come with me," he continued.
"He can't come with you, bastard. He can't walk," Sam said. Seeing Frank like this and blaming it all on herself obviously put her in a crabby mood.
Dr. Beshkins turned to look at the girl with bloodshot eyes and a tear stricken face. "That's why we brought him a wheel chair," he said sternly.
"He's not old," she muttered to herself.
We waited anxiously in Frank's hospital room for the results. Frank hasn't come back yet so Sam and I laid on his bed. Bob did his drum beating thing on himself. He did it to Mikey, too, after several minutes of Mikey's begging. Ray paced the room quietly.
All in all, we were in the hospital room in silence. The only sounds you could hear were Sam's sobbing, Ray's footsteps and Bob's drumsticks.
Sam had her face on my chest and I put my arm over her. She was still sobbing, blaming everything on herself. "It's my fault he's like that, Gerard. It's my fault," she kept on saying.
I stroked her hair affectionately. "It's not your fault. It's the fault of the people who built the skate park. Putting bumps like that down there is dangerous, and it's a sad thing they didn't do anything about it. It's not your fault the wheel came off. Nothing's your fault," I explained.
"But it's my fault he was on the skateboard in the first place."
I had nothing to sya to that. It wasn't her fault he was on it anyway. Sure, she insisted he skateboard, but it's not her fault. The word "fault" just has a deep meaning and sounds so negative, but there's nothing negative about asking him to skateboard.
Instead, I just continued to stroke her hair when Frank came in the door with Dr. Beshkins pushing him on the wheelchair.
A nurse followed him with the results of the x-ray.
I carried Sam off the bed. Ray sat her on his knee and wrapped his arms around her.
Frank limped to the bed and laid down there. He looked at Sam who never took her eyes off him. He smiled slyly. "I'm okay. It doesn't look like it, but I feel much better," he said.
Dr. Beshkins openned the envelope and took the x-ray thingy (WHAT DO YOU CALL THAT?) and passed it around. "He broke a few of his left fingers, and he has a nasty bruise on his foot. He can't walk around until tomorrow, and even then, he would still feel a slight pain while walking, so I suggest he walk as little as possible tomorrow. He can come out tomorrow early morning, too."
Frank looked disappointed but he nodded anyway.
"Which means he can't go on tour, nor play the guitar," the nurse said. She grinned. "I'm a big fan. It's different though. Being a nurse and being fan. Your songs are about death, and I see people dying everyday."
I smiled. The last thing I would expect was having a nurse as a fan.
Dr. Beshkins looked taken aback... for... no good reason. But I'm sure he's wondering why his intern took a fancy in an alternative rock band with five major cut-ups as members.
The doctor and the nurse walked out of the room, only after Miss Nurse got our autographs. Except for Frank's, of course.
The room was quiet again. This time the only sounds you could hear was Sam tyring to stop the tears from coming down any longer.
Frank giggled. "You guys are acting as if I have cancer."
There was a quiet peal of laughter. You can't stop Frank even when he's hurt. He'll just make a joke out of everything.
Sam got off Ray's knee and walked to the edge of Frank's bed. She openned her mouth to say something but her voice was so hoarse and cracky from all the crying.
Frank looked at her intently and pulled her into his arms. The tears began to violently spill down her face.
I took this as a cue to leave the room. I gathered Bob, Ray and Mikey and dragged them out the door with a sly grin on my face.
I wonder what those two will talk about...