Chapter Forty-Six

14 0 0
                                    

The sun barely blared on the horizon, feeling lazy and sleepy along the skyline. It was as though the sky was trying to hold itself back at the uncertainty of what lay ahead of it's dawn, trying to hold onto yesterday after yesterday. Frank watched from the bay window of the foyer, resting his head against his left arm that was settled against the side of the glass, diamonds of dust and the dim sunlight floating across the stale inside air. He took a deep breath and just as deep a gulp of coffee that he had just brewed, feeling a little bit elated and whole lot lost. Sure, they had a plan of how to find Jake, but what about if it works? What then? The only things that crossed his mind were those that he knew that Gerard would completely detest. He would have to make sure to ask when he woke up, but he felt queasy at just the thought of asking. After everything, he was getting another chance at what he didn't do in the past to make things right, regardless of where it took him from there. He would rather live his last days in a confined prison cell, a penitentiary, sitting on death row waiting for a needle full of FDA approved, prison grade poison than let the one person that stole everything from himself and the people he loves walk free. How badly he wanted to feel that fucker's neck beneath his hands and the pop of each vertebra breaking from one another like a string of stale popcorn after Christmas. To watch the life leak out of his eyes seconds at a time to make up for all the tears that fell because of him. That just wouldn't be fair to Gerard, and he knew that would be a scar from his own hands, a blade he would use to tear his boyfriend apart and watch bleed out from his actions, and Frank just couldn't live with that. He pondered another way, staring at the horizon as though big and boisterous banners would tumble over with answers. 

Gerard's eyes shot open as he felt a cold hand fall on his exposed forearm, gasping and pulling away at the sensation. He bolted upright and whipped his head around the room so quickly he felt dizzied. "Woah," he grabbed his head, willing the whirring in his head to calm down. "What the fu-"

"I'm so so sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." A shy voice whispered in front of him, way too close.

A girl with long, curly hair was standing in front of him, rubbing a hand over her pale arm. Her lips were tightly pressed together and her eyes were staring hopefully down at Gerard. He fought down a shocked gasp and used his hands to push himself up from the bed, feeling flustered at her presence. How did she get here? Who was she? Had Frank let her in? He stood in front of her, bending over slightly observing her for clues. She didn't look familiar at all, but she knew his name and was staring at him as though he were her savior, full of hope and her gaze practically begging him for mercy, but for what? "Uh," Gerard's mind was void of words, full of confused sounds. "Who are you?"

"Oh, I do apologize for my lack of manners," she extended a hand to Gerard. "I'm Kristin."

He reached out to collect it in his when he realized that there was nothing there to grasp. His hand completely fell through, feeling a thick cold cloud of air where her fingers were held out to him. Her thumb stuck upwards and her pointer and middle fingers slightly curled inwards and her pinky seemingly too distant from the others. Gerard noticed she was entirely missing her ring finger as the rest of her fingers pulled towards her palm as if she could feel the warmth of Gerard's handshake. "Are you..." Gerard caught himself. "I'm sorry if this is a bit rude... Are you dead?"

Her curls bounced around her face as she nodded, shamefully looking away from him. "I've been trapped here for years and... And I just can't do this anymore. You've got to help me." It sounded like she was crying but no tears fell from her eyes.

"I'm... I just..." Gerard bit over his lip, looking around his room. "How can I? Help that is?"

"You've got to set me free." She fell to her knees, her back arched in sobs that never fell. "Please... I just want to move on..."

So Long, Not GoodnightWhere stories live. Discover now