Before Killing Was Cool ➊ FRERARD

13: Drowning Lessons

C h a p t e r | T h i r t e e n

In The Past

"Mommy, Mikey stole my toy!" A four-year-old Gerard comes running down the back yard to the door of his childhood home, straight into the kitchen to tug at his mother's summer dress. "Mommy!"

"Get over it, Gerard. Sometimes people take things that aren't theirs and there's nothing you can do about it. Besides, you always take his so I suppose it's fair." His mom rolls her eyes. She's always been strict and even cruel at times, giving her sons the minimal supplies they require - food, toys, beds, and other things alike - but love is more scarce. Gerard believes it's normal.

"'S not fair!" Gerard whines. "You like him more than me!"

"Gerard," she sighs, "go back outside and make up with your brother or else I'll get your father to sort it out."

That's the one thing Gerard today wouldn't wish upon his worst enemy. At this age, however, he doesn't understand the severity of her statement so much, so he resorts to pouting with crossed arms and stomping his feet. "It's Mikey's fault!"

A pudgy little Mikey appears at the doorway, wide eyes set on his older brother. "Ge-rd." From behind his back, he reveals the teddy he nicked from Gerard, holding it out as a peace offering.

"Finally," Gerard scowls and snatches the toy back, "I'm gonna tell daddy on you."

"Who's going to tell dad what?" Their father has just come back from work and is hanging his jacket up on a hook at the front of the house. His booming voice can be heard from the back yard.

"It's nothing, dear." Gerard's mom waves it off dismissively as her husband saunters into the kitchen. "They're just arguing again."

"No, daddy, it was Mikey's fault!" Gerard protests.

"Michael is too young to understand what he did was wrong." His father kicks his boots off underneath the kitchen table then bends down to Gerard's level. "You want to tell me what happened?"

Gerard looks sheepishly at his feet. "Mikey—"

"Look at me when I'm talking to you, Gerard." He raises his voice and forces Gerard's chin up so they're eye to eye. Gerard's lips tremble. His mother says nothing, continuing with washing the dishes in the sink nonchalantly.

"Sorry," Gerard mumbles, "Mikey took my toy and I got mad at him. I told mommy and she said it's fair but it's not fair at all!"

"So you thought throwing a damn tantrum with your mother was the solution?"

"That's a bad word," Gerard gasps quietly. In the background, Mikey edges away from the scene, crawling since he hasn't quite learned to walk all the time yet.

Gerard's father's hand slaps across his cheek, sending his son stumbling backwards, one open palm clutched to his sore face. Gerard sniffles a little, standing awkwardly with his feet turned in and eyes cast downward. Mikey's horrified gaze settles on his brother.

Their dad stands back up, loosening his tie. "I've had a long day," he informs their mom with a frustrated sigh, "I trust dinner won't be too long."

"Fifteen minutes," she utters, scared after seeing her husband actually lay hands on her son for the first time. Usually these things don't end up well - she's surprised she wasn't first. It definitely won't be the last time something like this happens. He's only four, and she did nothing to protect him.