Illumination of the End (Frerard)

Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

"Get your shit and get out." Frank's new step dad, Vick, stood in the doorway of his room, resting his hand on the handle. Acting like he owned the place. He'd lived here for two weeks. Two weeks, that's all. Yet he walked around here like he owned the place. To say that Frank hated the man his mother had married would be a drastic understatement. Frank was never okay with his mom dating other guys. Why did she need a man? Wasn't Frank enough? He killed the occasional spider, like the man of the house should do. Why on earth did his mother decide to go and marry the biggest douche bag in Jersey?

Vick treated Frank like shit, so he returned the favor. Frank taught himself to hate Vick, so that every little thing he did sent a boiling rage throughout his body. The sight of Vick's hand on Frank's door handle would be a good example of one of the many things that shouldn't have bothered Frank the way it did.

He had lived in this house with his mother his entire life. They were perfectly fine until Vick showed up. Everything from then on went in a downward spiral for Frank. His attitude changed. He no longer cared about grades, friends, or family. All he lived for was the high he got. Whether it be heroine or cocaine, he had no preference. As long as he could forget about the harsh reality of his situation, that was all that mattered to Frank. 

He stood in the middle of his room, clenching his fists. He thought about screaming back at Vick, but he was done with fighting. Even his mother had sided with Vick on their decision to kick him out of the house. They had found out about the drugs a few weeks ago. His mom had convinced Vick to let Frank stay as long as he got clean, but Frank had a mind of his own. Vick was the one who found it. The little back of crack that was hidden under Frank's bed. Frank wasn't willing to try and plead his way out of this one.

His parents wanted him out of the house, and he was tired of being stuck under the rules of his demented step dad. He angrily shoved his clothes into a gym bag, and slung it over his shoulder. He glanced around his room and mentally said a final goodbye to it. This was it. He was leaving, and he certainly didn't plan on ever coming back. 

Vick walked over to Frank and grabbed his forearm tightly. "Good luck in the real world." he spat. 

Frank shook his arm away and glared at him. He wasn't one much for words, but he had mastered all the dirty looks, for he always had Vick to practice with. He glared at him and then as defiantly as he could, he left. Everything he had ever known, he left it there in that little house. 

He walked down the side walk at a fast pace; he wasn't sure where he was going, but he wanted to get there fast. It was getting dark, and Frank came to the sudden realization that he no longer had a roof over his head. No food. No nothing.

Maybe he could go to the park that was a few streets over, and he would sleep in one of the slides, or if he had to, on a bench... No, that place was always crawling with cops. They were always catching Frank, whether it be for drugs, vandalism, or stealing. Surely they'd be happy to arrest a homeless seventeen year old with a bad temper and a bag full of cocaine. The park definitely wasn't the place for Frank. Then where? Where would he spend the night? Was this what his new life would be like? Searching for a new place to sleep every night.

Frank finally decided on the cemetery that was about six blocks south of his house. No wait, it was no longer his house... He zipped up his jacket and pulled the hood over his head. The brisk air was whipping at him. The temperature was dropping as he found his way to the front gate of the cemetery. "Well this should be a fun night, trying to keep myself from freezing to death," he thought to himself.

The tall iron gated of the cemetery were ominous in the dark sky the hung low over the towering trees. Frank had planned to have to jump the fence, for the gate normally had a padlock on it at night to keep intruders out, but the lock laid on the ground and the gate was just barely opened. 

Strange, but Frank thought nothing of it. He crept past the gate and walked down the main pathway that curved through the cemetery. Looking for a place to sleep for the night, he spotted a big mausoleum that stood tall in contrast to the other surrounding tombstones. He sat, leaning his head against the cold marble wall. The place was quiet except for the occasional gust of wind that sent goosebumps across Frank's skin.

He glanced around for a moment and let out a sigh. What was he going to do? It was Sunday; he had school tomorrow... "Fuck" he groaned as he realized that he had left his school books at home in his room. Then he cursed at himself for referring to that place as home again. 

"I'll just skip,' he thought to himself. His eye lids started to become weak against the force of sleep that had slowly crept  through his body. His limbs felt useless. He needed rest, so Frank placed his bag under his head and tried to keep his mind clear. 

He was woken by another burst of wind that nipped at his skin. Curling up tigher into a ball, he tried to block out the cold feeling and focus on sleeping. The sound of footsteps caught his attention, but he was far too tired to look up so he drifted back into a deep sleep.

When he finally woke, the sun was high in the sky. He rubbed his eyes as they came into focus. A thick blanket was draped over his body. "Where the hell did that come from?" he asked himself. All of a sudden, a small and sincere voice came from behind him.

"I noticed you shivering last night, so I gave you a blanket..." 

Frank frantically sat up and pushed the blanket off of him. "I wasn't cold." he stated as he aimed his eyes at he voice. The man wasn't that tall, but he was taller than Frank; most people were. Frank had seen him a few times at school, but never talked to him. Frank didn't talk much, or really ever for that matter. The guy had messy black hair that looked as if it hadn't been washed in a few days, and his hazel eyes were looking straight at Frank. 

"Well, you looked pretty cold to me." He held a sketchbook in his hands along with a few pencils. "I'm Gerard," he said in a more friendly tone, offering his free hand out for Frank to shake. 

Frank gave him one of his many rude facial expressions, but then decided to shake the stranger's hand. "Frank."

"Well.. it's nice to meet you, Frank.. What are you doing sleeping in a cemetery..?" This guy was weird. Why would he help Frank by lending him a blanket? What was his excuse for being in a cemetery that late at night? And Frank was in no mood for 'making friends' at the moment. He needed to figure out what he was going to do. 

"Wouldn't you like to know," he scoffed as he stood up and wrapped his bag of clothes around his shoulder. He began down the main pathway, headed out of gates, but he could hear the faint sound of hurried footsteps following close behind him. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Yay first chapter! I really like this story so far :D please tell me what you think so I'll know if I should continue with the story