Wind-up toy (NOT MINE)

Chapter 8

My heart has been strapped in a straight jacket love.
The therapy boys say it fits like glove.
I'm grossing the line in my brain,
the line between pleasure and pain.
It takes all I've got to survive,
this madness will eat me alive.

"I-IERO!" Frank shouted, awaking with a jolt.
"What?"
"Is...is Iero." he repeated.
"Iero? What does it mean?"
"I...I d-don't know wh-what it means, d-dumb! Th-that's my l-last name. I r-remembered."
"Oh! That's awesome, Frankie! Can you spell it out for me?" I difficultly grabbed a pen and a notebook from under my seat, making sure to keep my other hand on the wheel.
"Y-yeah." he nodded.
"Ok, tell me."
"i-e-r-o." he said confidently, and I wrote it down without even looking at the paper.
"You sure?"
"Y-yep. H-heard it while I was s-sleeping. B-but...it's true. G-grace was s-speaking on the phone and I h-heard her. Th-then I woke up and r-remembered that was my n-name. Y-yes." he explained. His speech was a little messy. I couldn't completely figure out whether he meant it was a dream or something that had really happened. Or both. I didn't want to tire him with more questions.
"Veeery good! Then we should introduce each other again: pleased to meet you, Frankie Iero!" "P-pleased to m-meet you, Gerard W-way!" he giggled.

We arrived at my family's house only fifteen minutes later than expected. I hadn't been around for the last two months, yet nothing seemed too different save for the sides of the gray stone path which were packed with new flowers. They were all either yellow or orange -the typical summer colors- and even under the pale moon light they appeared to glow. The rosebushes were in bloom and the grass was a vibrant green. Okay, maybe the garden did look completely different after all, but it was due to the usual beauty summer would always bring.

Frankie freed himself from my grasp with a tug, attracted by a bush of velvety red roses. He ran towards the delicate flowers, smelled them, and raised his hand to take one.
"Frankie, don't touch them! They have tho-"
"OUCH! It s-stung me!" he complained, my warning going to waste.
"Roses do that! Come here, let me see your finger." I guided him to the porch light. He shuddered when I grabbed his hand to examine his thumb. Part of the thorn had clung to his skin but only superficially, so I removed it with ease. "You're ok, don't worry. Just remember to not touch those plants again!"
"K-kay."

Standing in front of the big, dark green wooden door I hesitated, causing Frank to eye me expectantly. It'd suddenly come to mind that the bell didn't work the last time I was there. Knowing my brother, I didn't think it could have been fixed. I knocked and waited.
"Coming!" a female voice answered. Seconds later the door was opened and we were welcomed by Alicia, Mikey's girlfriend. Her shiny black hair -tied up in a ponytail- was a mess, loose locks sticking out everywhere. She also seemed slightly out of breath.
"Hi, Alicia! Studying too hard?" I greeted her with a crooked smile.
"We're dedicated students, you know that. Summer courses are killing us..." she grinned. "Gerard, haven't seen you in weeks! And this must be Frank..."
"Frankie." I quickly corrected.
"Oh sorry, Frankie...how are you, honey? I'm Alicia, Mikey's girlfriend."
"H-hello! I...I'm G-gerard's...uh...f-friend!" he took a step forward and offered her his hand. Instead of shaking it, Alicia brought him closer and kissed his cheek. I recognized her famous 'aww face'.
"Awww, he's a cutie!" she exclaimed, confirming my thoughts. Girls like her were suckers for boys like Frankie.
"Al, calm down, he's not a dog."
"Oh, b-but I have a d-doggie!" Frank commented.
"You do? Sweet!"
"Yep! H-he's called P-puppy."
"Can we come in now, Alicia? I'm drained!" I interrupted their socialization.
"Of course Gerard, it's your house after all!"

We entered the house, the one that had been my home for more than 20 years. No change had been made on the inside since my last visit. Like always, everything was in order; my mother was pretty much obsessive about that, or maybe I was too careless. The beige curtains were impeccable and neatly ironed. The brown carpet was clean and kinda puffy, giving that walking-on-air feeling. The shelves, as well as the pottery on them, gleamed.