My Injuries, Your Injuries (Completed)

Chapter 24

So, I might try to make a new cover for this. idk

gosh I'm very sore and sunburnt. ;-; my wrist is sprained and it hurts to unbend my arms. ugh ugh

*~*~*~*~*

"Frank," mom calls. I peek out of the blankets and see that it's still dark. "Frank, get up!" She screams.

"What?" I mutter, pushing the blanket off and propping myself on my elbows. I'm not in the mood. First, she talks lowly about Gerard. Now, she wakes me up in the early hours of the morning.

"Your phone won't stop ringing, answer it," She replies, tossing it at me.

"It isn't ringing," I mumble and put it back on the bedside table. Just when I set it down, it starts ringing.

"Hello?" I ask, holding the cold device to my ear.

"Frank?" It's Gerard and he sounds like he's been crying.

"Yeah, what happened?" I ask, suddenly I'm wide awake and ready to kill anyone who decided to hurt him. He has enough to deal with.

"Can you come over?" His voice is shaky and he's breathing heavily. "Please?"

"Yeah, I'll be there soon," I say, looking at my mom who's giving me a no you won't look.

"Okay, please hurry," he cries. I promise that I'll be there as soon as possible and then hang up, returning my mom's icy glare. I don't know why she just all of a sudden started acting like this.

"You aren't going," she says quietly, yet forcefully. "I won't let you."

"Mom, I'm going. Gerard sounded really upset and if you want him to stop 'making my body ugly', then I have to go. He won't stop on his own," I practically yell at her. That should make her say yes. She hates the idea of self-harm, especially when it affects me.

"Fine. Go, whatever." She turns and walks out of my room, stomping down the stairs and loudly slamming her bedroom door. Well, she's mad.

I quickly change into a pair of baggy jeans and a random shirt, slip on a pair of converse and grab my phone and keys.

I get in and speed to Gerard's house, it's 3:30 in the morning, he must be really upset if he wanted me to come over.

I go to the front door and before my knuckles can even hit the wood, the door is swung open and I'm being pulled into a bone crushing hug. "It's horrible," he mumbles into my shoulder, still crying a little.

"What's horrible?" I ask, prying his arms off of me so I can look at him.

He grabs my arm and drags me to his room. We sit on his bed and then he takes a deep breath and places his phone in front of my crossed legs. I look at the lit up screen and see that he has his texting app open and on a conversation with someone.

Unknown: hey gee, used your blade lately?

Unknown: where'd you go? I miss the rush of beating you senseless?

Unknown: little faggot got scared? is that it? you're scared

Unknown: I'll find you and save you another failed suicide attempt.

The messages ended at that one and the fact that someone would say those things to someone as fragile as Gerard makes me so mad.

"Who was that?" I ask, placing the phone next to his leg.

"I don't know, the number just popped up while I was trying to sleep. It got me scared, because obviously it's someone from where I used to live and they all know I'm from Jersey," he says, fumbling his fingers and looking everywhere but me.