Disgusting (Frerard)

Chapter three - mud

Chapter three - mud

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"So, do you like Queen?" I asked.

"Um, what?" Gerard frowned, confused. Apparently he hadn't heard of Queen.

"Okay, uh, Nirvana?"

"I don't... I d-don't know what you're talking about."

"Music."

"Oh! I love music!"

"What kind? I mean, you haven't heard of Queen or Nirvana, so I'm going to make a wild guess that you're not a fan of rock."

"Rock?" he repeated confusedly.

My eyes widened. "You don't know what rock is?"

"No...?" he said uncertainly.

"How do you- oh my god, you don't even have an iPod or anything, do you?"

"Uh. No."

"You poor kid. You haven't lived. How do you even get anywhere with music if you don't even have iPods or CD players?"

"Well... I sing. And stuff. And my brother plays bass."

"Really? That's awesome. I play guitar."

"I always wanted t-to play the guitar."

"Well- maybe you could come and borrow mine?" I suggested.

"Oh my god," he said, blushing again. "That would be awesome."

The incastum gates came into view, and I slowed my pace slightly. I had never been in there in the daytime, and I'd never been in through the proper gates. I always climbed over the wall so I wasn't caught. This time, I was honestly a little bit anxious.

"Are you okay?" Gerard asked.

"Uh. Yeah. I'm fine."

I couldn't tell him that now I actually was afraid of being seen with him. I didn't want to offend him like that. He seemed like such an innocent kid.

"Are we going in, or are we just going to s-stand here?" he joked, and I realised that I had completely stopped moving.

"Oh. Sorry."

I started walking again, and we slipped inside the incastum. But after walking only a few metres, I had to stop again. Seeing the place in broad daylight... it was so much worse than what I saw in the dim light of evening.

These people hadn't just been living in poorly built houses. These were practically slums. There were no roads or pavements. There was just a track of dirt, and dry, muddy grass all over the ground. There were a couple of damaged blocks of flats with shattered windows and bricks literally crumbling off the side of the building, but they didn't really look much safer or more comfortable than the tents and huts set up all over the muddy, rocky ground.

A few young children sat playing in the mud, but although they were laughing, they looked unhealthily thin and ill. You could see the bones in their arms, and their clothes hung off them like they were five sizes too big. A toddler sat on a patch of grass, his older sister sitting beside him, playing with him and trying to smile, but the dirt on her face and the hollowness of her cheeks just made it look like a grimace.

I felt like I was going to be sick.

"Frank, are you okay? You look kind of... ill."

"I feel sick," I said weakly. "This is horrible. I didn't realise it was this bad."

"Oh. It's okay. W-we get used to it." He tried to smile, but I realised that even his face was covered in dirt, his cheeks were sunken and his cheekbones and jaw were sharp with how skinny he was. I must have not seen in the dim light of the alley.

"Gerard," I said. "It's awful. And your brother- god, I'm so sorry." I buried my face in my hands, then sighed shakily. I felt so horrible. I could have been doing more to help these people. I needed to do more to help these people, Jesus Christ, they were living in poverty.

I glanced up at Gerard, who was looking torn and dithering awkwardly. He looked like he wanted to put his arm around me. "Let's go to my house," he said, and started walking slowly, making sure I was by his side.

I caught up with him and walked beside him, getting more and more worried the further into the incastum we ventured. There were no buildings anymore, and not even a track or path, just dirt and dry grass everywhere like some awful run down campsite.

We neared a particularly unpleasant row of muddy tents, and I crossed my fingers behind my back and silently prayed that this wasn't where Gerard lived.

"This is m-mine," he mumbled, and turned right at a murky brown puddle, trudging towards the last tent in the row.

It was dirty and torn and fucking tiny. It didn't look like it would be at all comfortable for one person to live in, let alone a whole family with a sick kid.

Gerard stepped inside the tent and held the frayed fabric apart so I could slip in behind him. Inside the tent wasn't much different from outside. There was a pile of what looked like sorted food rations in the corner, a sheet laid down instead of just grass and mud, and three makeshift beds at the side consisting of a sleeping bag on top of a duvet without a cover. A small boy lay in one of the beds, curled up in a ball. His eyes were closed like he was sleeping, but he was sleeping fitfully. He tossed and turned every now and again, and even when he was still, he shivered.

"Mikey," Gerard said softly. He reached out and gently touched the boy's shoulder.

Mikey's eyes fluttered open, and he smiled weakly when he caught sight of his brother. "Hey, Gee," he mumbled.

"Hey, Mikes. I just wanted to t-tell you- I've brought a friend over."

"Friend? You have a friend? I'd like to see this." Mikey sat up, but then winced and clutched at his side.

"Mikey?" Gerard asked, panic flashing across his face.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." He waved a hand dismissively, and tried to stifle a cough.

"Mikey! You're coughing!"

"I'm fine! It's just a tickle," Mikey said hoarsely.

Gerard sighed. "Okay," he murmured.

"So, where's your friend?" Mikey glanced around.

"Hey." I waved and smiled nervously.

Fear filled Mikey's eyes as he caught sight of me and he edged backwards in his seat. "Gerard," he hissed. "Is he doing an investigation or something? He hasn't come to kill us, has he?"

"No," Gerard said defensively. "He's my friend."

"He's white."

"He's standing right here," I said. "Hello."

"Hi?" Mikey said tentatively. "You're not going to search us or anything...?"

"No. I like you guys."

"Okay," he said slowly.

"Mikes, uh, you can go back to sleep now if you like," Gerard said, smiling briefly at Mikey. "I just wanted to talk to Frank here for a little while."

"Why'd you wake me then?" Mikey asked, irritated.

"I didn't want you to wake up to see a white and freak out, you know, think you were going to be murdered or something."

Mikey laughed slightly. "Thanks?"

"So. You can go back to sleep if you want. You look tired."

And he did look tired. There were bags under his eyes, and every move he made seemed to take a huge amount of effort. But I'd never seen a cancer patient before. Maybe this was what it was like all the time for them. All I knew that it was awful and painful for the sufferer and all the people around them.

So I intended to cheer up Gerard and his brother the best I could, starting with simply giving them a friend.