Joyriding ☾Frerard

Prologue

"Fucking faggot!"

"Why don't you kill yourself, Iero!"

"Make sure the cuts are deep enough this time too!"

I forced myself to run towards my house, ignoring their voices shouting at me from a distance. I hoped my parents weren't home so they wouldn't see me like this again. They were going to suspect some things and I didn't want that. I wanted them to stay out of this, it was my problem not theirs. I slammed my front door shut and sprinted up to my room before they even got the chance to say hi to me.

"He probably had something important to do for school, Hun. You know how he is with his schoolwork." I heard my father say to my mother. Guilt shot through me as I locked my door. I hated the fact that I couldn't have the guts to tell my parents what was going on in school. They deserve to know but I'm just a fucking coward. I'm just a worthless piece of shit that just wants to die. But I'm human, I guess it's normal  to feel this way.

I heard a light tap on the door while I was in the middle of changing my ripped shirt, hearing my name.

"What's wrong, Ma?" I called back, raising a eyebrow. She usually doesn't knock and I was okay with that. I mean, she's my mother, of course she was gonna walk in at any time regardless. My door immediately opened showing her slim figure in the doorway, hand on her hip and the other on the door frame.

"Just worried about you, Frankie." She said, looking at me up and down. "What happened with your hair? You look like you woke up from the dead."

I rolled my eyes from the comment and turned around, glancing at my reflection in the mirror for the first time since coming home. She was right. My hair was poking in different directions, my eyeliner was smudged and I had a little dirt on my face. I looked like a wannabe zombie auditioning for The Walking Dead.

"Hurry up and get yourself clean. We're leaving in 10." She snapped me out of my spaced out gaze and left, leaving me to blink unknowingly on what she said. I decided to just wash my face and try to brush my hair out, it was actually easier than I thought because my hair was in a mohawk. I checked myself in the mirror again, approving my choice in clothing and ran down the stairs, slamming the front door shut.

This happens almost everyday, me getting chased down by the same people and lying to my parents saying I just went to the park and fell off a tree or something. I knew they were going to find out sooner or later but right now, it was best if they didn't know. Knowing my parents, they would try to handle the situation themselves, and end up making things worse. It's happened before when I was in elementary. There was this one kid that kept pulling my hair and when I decided to tell them, they came to my school and had a argument with the kids parents. I love my parents and all but sometimes they needed to stay out of my problems.

"Frank." Dad said once I got in the backseat of the car. I looked at him through the front view mirror and he just gave me this blank look. He knew, he knew what happened to me. This was bad, very bad. I felt my chest suddenly tighten at the thought. "Where do you wanna go to eat?"

I shrugged my shoulders, exhaling the breath I didn't know I was holding in, relieved. "Anywhere." I glanced back at him through the rear view mirror. "Pizza?"

He chuckled. "Pizza it is." He drove off the driveway and headed to a highway that was near my house, it was about 10 to 15 minutes away anyways. I took notice on how he was driving, trying out my deducing skills like in Sherlock. My dad has always been a distracted driver but I didn't even know that he was drunk until he was driving fast and slurring his words when he spoke to my mom. My Dad was an alcoholic, obviously. When my father drinks, he drinks for days straight. I had a thought in the back of my head that he was already drinking by the strong smell when I came into the car. The car literally smelled like pure cigarettes and booze.