murderer - frerard

[004]

Two weeks passed and I hadn't seen any sign of Gerard. Ray came over occasionally but we avoided the topic of the neighbors. There was no more music at night. I was pleased, but it nagged at me a little.

It was hard to force myself to walk back over one Saturday night when Mom had the night shift again. Honestly, it was kind of odd to have to wait until my mom left for work to do something as simple as visit my neighbors' house. Especially when I obviously wasn't wanted there.

The sun was barely going down and street lights were coming on. I tried to silence my footsteps as I approached, but there was a loud slamming noise, followed by heavy, quick footfalls.

I turned. A gloved hand covered my mouth, but I didn't flinch. I knew it was just Gerard trying to shut me up and keep me away. I closed my eyes and let him take me away without a fight. It was much easier, I'd learned, if you just gave in.

I was pulled through the back door and pushed firmly into a seat. I looked up expectantly and was surprised to see that it wasn't, in fact, Gerard who'd brought me in, but the other one. The unnaturally blonde one with the timid look to him.

He didn't look very timid today.

"Well shit, don't you ever listen to what the fuck you're told?" He spat.

I had to will myself to keep calm. "No, not as much as I should, I guess."

"Didn't Gerard specifically tell you not to come back?" I noticed he seemed accustomed to the smell of the house. It had a mildly unpleasant scent that wasn't camouflaged very well by air fresheners.

"Sure, that's what he told me, but I don't know that he wasn't insinuating for me to come back." Now that it was out of my mouth, I realized that was what I'd been thinking all along. And as soon as I said it, I knew my theory was wrong. It sounded stupid coming from my lips. My cheeks flushed, and I looked away quickly. "Nevermind."

The guy scoffed, "Realizing now how desperately wrong you are?"

"Where's Gerard?" I asked quietly.

"Where he happens to be seems like none of your business to me, Iero." Whoa, whoa, fucking whoa.

"How'd you know my last name?" I demanded, suddenly startled.

He gave a cruel laugh, "Your last name. That's quite funny, actually. We know much more than your last name, Frank."

Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This wasn't okay.

And my lungs seemed to collapse when he began to rattle off information about me. "Frank Anthony Iero; born October thirty-first. You're eighteen years old, nineteen next week. You graduated from Belleville High when you were only seventeen because you studied hard and made it to the top of your class, graduating with the class above you instead of class of twenty-sixteen like you should have."

I took a sharp breath. "How do you know all of this? Who told you this shit?!"

"You live alone in a house that's way too big for just you; your mother died in a car accident last April and you still haven't come to terms with her death."

I felt a laugh rise within my throat, letting it fall out of my mouth and  "That's where you're wrong," I said gleefully. "My mom survived that crash. I mean, she still has back pains and can't sleep on a regular bed anymore, but she's still alive. She came home from the hospital last June and has to go to physical therapy every week, but she's alive." I was so horribly relieved when he got that one wrong. It meant he didn't know everything.

That's when Gerard stepped around the corner, his head hanging low. "God, Frank," He mumbled.

I looked up, feeling ten times better. I knew Gerard hated me, but he seemed much more decent than the other guy. "What?"

"I wish I could tell you you're right," Gerard sighed. I stood up, creasing my brows. "Mikey, that wasn't fair."

"Do I usually give a shit what's fair?" The blonde boy, who I assumed to be Mikey, growled.

"Frank, it isn't our place to, uh..tell you this, but your mom is...dead," Gerard said.

But he was wrong. He was horribly wrong. I saw her every fucking day, of course she was alive.

I shook my head and turned away, headed for the back door. This visit went surprisingly well; I should've known it wouldn't end so good.

The frying pan connected with my skull with a loud bang, and the room went black.