Keep The Faith ✥Frerard✥

✥Chapter 1✥

A smile to shield the pain inside

The false facade doesn't work this time

Walk away, hide the tears, don't cry

Another "I'm okay" to the wall of lies

Wither at the touch of embrace

Helping them is a hopeless case

Look how far down they've gone

Isolation nation

Cutting off all bonds

Welcome to my world of insanity

Eye for and eye and hopeless hearts

Where everything I love has left me

But it's all fine

In this splitting of the minds

Those were the last words Frank scribbled with a black ballpoint pen before closing his journal. He sat back against the scratchy oak tree, faded leather journal in hand, and sighed. As he rested there, the sun danced across the horizon, descending. The angle of the light was practically blinding. Frank squinted his eyes trying to see, as he packed up his journal and assorted pencils and pens into an old earl grey satchel. Slinging the bag over his shoulder, Frank began his trek through the crisp leaves, home. The thin fall air of the forest was comforting along with the warm breeze that accompanied it. The crisp air felt drier than usual.

Early sunsets were annoying. That meant Frank had to leave his forest sooner. He walked past the train tracks and through the clearing. From there he continued his walk home through Belleville.

Belleville was an interesting place. One local park was home to 4 murders within the past decade. It definitely wasn't the safest place around. That's why Linda Iero hated her son out after dark. And Frank wasn't one to test his mother's limits. He quickened his pace as the sky grew a darker shade of orange.

The only place Linda Iero deemed safe in Belleville, was the church. She was an avid church-goer, never missing a Sunday morning mass. The church was practically a second home to her. Sadly the place wasn't in the best shape. The church's walls had fading paint, the lights inside were very faulty, and the place could use a heater. Frank also found comfort in the church whenever he decided to go. If he decided to go. I had been at least a year since his last mass. It was a place where time didn't exist, a place where Frank could dwell in his thoughts. It also had a very positive atmosphere to it. The kind of feeling you get when you wake up to the smell of your favorite breakfast waiting for you. It was quite welcoming, except for the homophobia. Perhaps that's why Frank stopped going. Another thing Frank didn't like about the church was the priest. He was an old and closed minded man. Frank wished the Vatican would dismiss him or fire him. Maybe then he would return to church.

Maybe thats why Frank stopped in front of it. Maybe that's why Frank walked into it after a year of boycotting it. It was like a sirens song had taken over him, coaxing him to walk in. It was like he didn't have control of his own body. An invisible string tugging him towards the mahogany wooden doors of the church. He swung open the mighty wooden doors and stepped inside. The warm musty air filled his lungs and that feeling swarmed his chest. He inhaled it, savoring the unnatural yet comforting feeling of it.

The first thing he noticed was the mural. That mural hadn't been there before, Frank knew, if it was he would actually attend mass. Frank walked down the pews to mural on the right wall, near the altar. He noted that there was a setup of old rags and a few paint buckets. It must have been incomplete but Frank didn't notice. He examined the portrait of the weeping woman. Her hands cupped her bleeding heart, blood and ashes crawling up he hands to her forearms. Seven swords pierced the heart in her hands. Upon her head sat a crown of thorns, hair messily framed around it. She had six wings, two crossing her front, two above her head, and two out to the side. Her face wore many sorrows and pains.The beauty captured all of his attention, the only things to exist were him and the mural.