I'll Wait Forever

-35-

Gerard's P.O.V.

I attempted to push my thoughts for Frank away from my mind, but they wouldn't leave. He was all I could think about. I tried writing to keep my mind off of Frank, but every song I wrote became about how much I needed him. I tried drawing, but again, every face I began to sketch took on an eerie similarity to the boy who I wanted to see more than anything. I couldn't escape him, because, in my heart, I didn't want to.

But I forced myself, in quite possibly the worst Way possible.

I buckled my seatbelt and pulled out of my long driveway, my mind made up on my destination. There was no going back.

I sped down the street, driving past the little diner I had met Frank's parents in and the the record shop where Ray worked. I soon passed the pizzeria where Frank had told his parents about his sexuality, barely batting an eye as I could've sworn I saw Mrs. Iero crying on the sidewalk next to her stone-faced husband. Next, I drove by Ronnie's liquor store. I couldn't go there, he'd never let me buy anything. So I kept driving.

I drove until I had left Belleville and made it into the next town over, stopping at the first rundown liquor store I found. I needed this. I ran inside and bought as much vodka and tequila as I could carry, not minding the sideways glances people kept shooting me. I didn't care about them. I didn't care about anyone except the one person I couldn't let myself see. The one person I wanted to see more than anyone.

I left the store and started loading my bags into my car, but someone shoved into me. I glared at the tall man to my right, feeling my mind let some of my darkness slip through. "Watch where you're fuckin going..." The man slurred at me.

"What the fuck did you just say to me?" I seethed, I wasn't in the mood for conversation. I had too much on my mind to deal with some low life jackass.

"I said," he paused to spit on the ground, "watch where the fuck you're going, faggot." As he spoke his face got closer to my face, so close in fact that I could practically taste the whisky on his breath. Disgusting.

"I'd watch your fucking mouth before something really fucking bad happens." I replied coolly. This guy was trying his luck, and he picked the worst possible day to mess with me. I wasn't going to back down, and it seemed he wasn't either.

"Oh yeah? Whatcha gonna do, fag? Suck my cock to death? I'm real scared fagboy." He snarled, pointing his finger at my nose. Don't people know more rude words than fag? Like really? That's the best they can do? Morons...

"That's a lovely looking finger. It'd be a real shame if I snapped it," I shot back at him.

"Oh please, you couldn't hurt me if you tried." He laughed, his finger unwavering.

Suddenly I reached up and grabbed his finger, bending it back forcefully, but not enough to break it. "Let this be a warning..." I whispered to the man as he begged me to release my grip. I let go and shut my car door, beginning to walk around my car and head home, but I stood in shock as I felt glass shards fall to my shoulders. The fucking bastard smashed a beer bottle over my head. I whipped around and grabbed the mans throat, pinning him against my car. "I wouldn't have done that if I were you." I said coldly.

I was suddenly made aware of the few people inside the liquor store watching me and this man's altercation, so I released his throat and yanked him into a nearby alley, replacing my hand on his throat as he was backed against the wall.

I felt myself lose control as my teeth brushed against this man's neck, wanting so badly to break the rule I had set for myself. Suddenly I was reduced to an onlooker in my own body; no control over my actions, and the monster I had chosen to be resurfaced once more.