The World is Ugly (Frerard)

22: Gee and Simone Probably Franksearch While Frank Searches For Hello Kitty

Frank's POV

I close my eyes shut, trying to focus on the outside noise. From what I hear (aka nothing), nobody is awake right now. Or maybe they're all just waiting outside the door for me to try something stupid.

Oh, fuck. That's probably the case. Anyway, I still have something prepared for whoever tries to stop me.

I lay on my stomach and lift my legs as high up the wall as I can, so my butt touches my tied up hands.

I stretch my fingers as much as the rope allows me to, and the tips barely enter my pocket. the pocket knife doesn't budge.

I feel myself sweating more with every second that goes by, bringing me closer to my execution. It's stupid how I'm now relying on Hello Kitty to keep me alive. I laugh to myself before returning to my reality.

If the stupid thing doesn't move soon, I'm dead, as simple as that. I let the realization sink in and become a cold feeling, taking over my chest as my breaths shorten.

I can't die, not like this.

I arch my back so my hand inches a little closer to the knife, pain running down my whole body.

I don't even realize the moment I start crying, but the salty mixture of tears and sweat soon enters my mouth.

I stop trying. I need to recognize it's useless. My hand will never reach my pocket knife and I will never reach Gerard again. Or Brendon. Or Oli. Or Lee. Or Ryan. Not anybody, not ever again.

I let my face fall back on the hard ground and my tears form little puddles here and there.

My friend rat soon comes closer and watches me, a few inches from my face.

"Hey you" I say to the rat, force a smile through my tears. I honestly don't know what I'm doing anymore. I'm literally talking to a rat.

It cocks it's head to the side, its wide eyes watching me every second. I stare back.

After a while of staring at each other, the rat runs to my side and starts nudging at my elbow, obviously expecting me to do something. I slowly roll to the opposite side with my legs still on the wall, careful not to crush it under my body.

Once my back touches the floor, I feel something move in my back pocket. I gasp.

The rat comes closer, standing on its back legs to appear taller. Tears stop falling. I think this stupid rat is smarter than I give it credit for.

I take a deep breath. I can't give up. I won't.

I clench my jaw with determination as I revise my legs even higher up. I then begin to wiggle them as violently as I can, feeling the knife gloriously slide lower and lower (or higher?) down the pocket.

Yes. Yes. Yes!

This will work. It can't not.

The knife keeps moving towards the border of the pocket, until it stops at the very end. Of course, the end is a little thicker than the ret if the cloth.

I lower my legs. This method won't work anymore.

What could I do now? I think, my brain struggling to find an answer. Then it hits me.

The boxes.

It's so obvious I want to slap my face for not thinking it earlier, but I decide not to (mostly because I can't with my hands still tied up, but whatevs).

I crawl to the nearest large box and place both of my feet at the top. Now this is uncomfortable.

I push my butt against the wood, using the corner of the box to push the knife further out my pocket. I feel it get stuck for a second, but then it shoots out, making a perfect, loud "thud" as it lands.