Give Him Hell, Kid (Frerard)

Chapter Twenty-Six

Frank P.O.V

I heard them, their presence was known from their endless whispers. I hadn't moved all day, through fear of them. I didn't want them to touch me, and the fact that they had been talking to my sister made me pissed beyond belief. My stomach growled, but I was too scared to get up. I felt like one was going to pull me underneath the couch and do God knows what to me.

After minutes of listening to my stomach plead with me, I couldn't bear it any longer. I shoved the blanket off my shivering body, jogging to the kitchen. The quicker I was, the quicker I could get back to the safety of the couch. I threw the fridge door open, grabbing a coke bottle and leftovers from breakfast. Turning around, I froze, almost dropping my food on the floor. The black mist lingered in front of me, whispering loudly. I couldn't back away, it had cornered me. I began to feel like staying at home wasn't a good idea, being with friends certainly was.

"What do you want? Haven't I been punished enough?" I said, lip trembling. I was on the verge of tears, wishing that the past few weeks had never happened to me. It said nothing, moving away from me, allowing me to leave. I felt a slight wave of relief wash over me, until it threw itself at me. I choked on nothing, dropping to my knees, feeling like the air from my lungs was being kicked from my body. I tried to stand, but it was too difficult to keep my balance. I crawled along the floor, trying to get away. My vision was blurry, my clammy hands slipping on the cold wooden floor. Tears streaming down my face as I struggled.

I laid on the floor, the coldness was a sweet reprieve from the boiling feeling that was consuming my insides. I felt like I was dying, burning from the inside out. Whatever it was, it had made a home inside my body, inside my mind. I could hear it's whispering, its words harsh, cruel. Telling me how it wound up in hell. It's vile and emotionless crimes making me want to cry, to scream out in pain. I began to sob uncontrollably, knowing that there was nobody to help me.

After a while, I conjured up enough energy to stand. Using the walls almost as a crutch, I staggered back to the living room. I couldn't see them anymore, the black, mist creatures. They would return, the little voice inside my head was telling me over, and over, and over again. I threw myself back onto the couch, closing my eyes. The voice of the black mist terrifying, but somewhat comforting.
                                      ~>•<~

"What's wrong with Frankie?" I heard a sweet voice ask, it was slightly distorted so I couldn't tell who it was. I opened an eye, my vision struggling. A hand reached down to touch my forehead, a concerned face lingering over me.

"Are you okay baby? You look really ill." It was my mom, her face twisted into a frown. I looked next to her, my little sister looking terrified. I nodded, turning over. I was too exhausted to answer any more questions, and too afraid to retell my little anecdote of the day. I heard my mom leave the room, probably to grab me a glass of water. I needed it, my throat hoarse and dry. My sister touched my arm, the warmth unnatural.

"Baby, come away from him. I don't want you to catch anything." My mom called to her from the kitchen, my sister skipped away.

I couldn't help but blame Gerard for all of this. If I ever recovered, I would be giving him a piece of my mind. I wanted to punch him, to blame him for everything that was going on. He had betrayed me with that whore, and the way that he had chased me home was enough to ban myself from ever thinking about him. I knew that he liked to torment me, but this was far too much. Far too real. I knew that I hadn't hallucinated the goings on from earlier, something was changing me. I needed to ask him what was happening, and why me. He didn't care for me, it was clearly obvious in his constant want for sex, we weren't even dating.

I could hear whispering again, a pang of fear and dread hitting me hard. I curled up in a ball, covering my face with the blanket. I didn't want this anymore, the daily torment was taking a toll on me. I felt like I was going insane, maybe it was all in my head. I hoped to God that it was.
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Song Of The Chapter- Frances Farmer Will Have Her Revenge On Seattle by Nirvana (banana)

A.N
Abnormally short chapter this time, but take it as a part two to the last chapter :) This story is genuinely almost done, I know what I'm doing, and I have an entire week off school to make sure that everything's looking good ;)

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