Different ; Frerard

Our Lady of Sorrows

Stand up fuckin' tall,

Don't let them see you're 'bout to take,

My fuckin' hand,

And never be afraid again...

; ; ;

Gerard's POV

I felt myself awaken from my short slumber by a loud pitched noise. I blinked open my eyes and tried to quickly pounce up, but a burning pain shot through my arms and there was a soreness in my legs. As if it were a dream, the events played like a movie through my head. I felt my mouth curl up in a dry smile, which soon turned to pure happiness. I hadn't felt this emotion in a long time.

I knew I wasn't getting any sleep any time soon, so I stood up, with much effort. I observed my surroundings. It was still dark, and his internal clock told him it wasn't night, but it wasn't morning yet. There weren't many people around, so I let myself relax. I looked down, just now noticing that the area from my wrist to my elbow, on my right arm, was a dark red. The color red that, when you see it, it either means "poetic" or "dangerous." I decided it meant both at this moment, and despite the situation, I wasn't scared.

That was until I arrived in the main part of town. 

There were mainly homeless people and drunken partygoers on the streets at this time, so I felt that I shouldn't be worried, even though my dominant hand was at a complete lack of use. 

Soon, I found an old corner near a safe looking store. I sat down, and I think this is when the reality of my situation started to settle itself in my brain. I am a Neko, an expensive type nonetheless, on the streets of one of the biggest cities I know of, with my vein possibly cut into, and I don't even want to know how pathetic I look. I have weak tear ducts, so the tears began to fall quickly. Everything bad hit me at once, my family that I was taken from, my injuries, my hopelessness. 

I hated it. I hated being born a Neko, why did this even happen? I'm a mistaken hybrid that was created in a fucking laboratory that is only used for a good-for-nothing slave and sex toy to perverts. If there is a God, I certainly have some questions for him.

At this point I was sobbing at a pretty high magnitude without realizing, and I hoped I didn't draw any attention to myself. Not that anyone would care, humans are terrible, they'll all want to kill me because I was born slightly different than them. I just don't get it. Why do-

My self-pitying thoughts were cut off my a soft voice tapping my shoulder. I looked up with raw eyes and saw a human boy, who couldn't have been too much older than me. He looked concerned. 

"Are you okay?" He asked me, reaching his hand out to help me up from the cold, hard, concreate paved ground beneath me.