Give Me All Your Hopeless Hearts

(4) Why Do I Feel Okay?

Hoping for the best just hoping nothing happens a thousand clever lines unread on clever napkins
- Cute without the "E" by Taking Back Sunday

Trigger warning on chapter I'll put an * when it happens
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"My dad always hated that dress..." Frank whispered, taking in her wrists that were cut vertical as if she tried to kill herself, but her chest... it was obvious something... else got to her. The way her right lung was just hanging on slightly with the stringy flesh and with the intestines spilling out of her gut and across her thighs like livestock slaughtered and being gutted.

And most importantly...

Her heart was gone.

Blood covered her skin like red paint on an unwilling canvas who didn't want to be painted on.

If canvas's portrayed any sort of emotional feeling.

Blood splattered the dead grass that only had parts that were living, splattering the mausoleum behind her. Frank's stomach was churning and he kept thinking in his head that he's an orphan. He's an orphan and the only people he talked to were the Ways. He didn't know of any family here and if there was, he wouldn't be able to leave.

Frank couldn't hear Officer Hurley's voice over his own thoughts, heart beat in his ears. His head was stuck in white noise before he turned away.

He couldn't look at her anymore.

The best thing to do was to cremate her, but to be honestly, that was the last thing of Frank's mind as he stumbled away, completely unaware of the tears that have decided to fall from his eyes. He couldn't process anything inside his head, all of it going to static almost.

Numb.

That's what he felt.

He couldn't feel his emotions pilling up, gripping his lungs, chest, and mind, squeezing to where he couldn't feel anything. Only just enough to know that solid, heavy feeling that rested in his head.

Frank stumbled over a root as he neared the gates, letting himself fall to the ground, small rocks digging into his jeans. His hands broke his fall, but he still managed to fall into the dirt, scraping not only his hands but his cheek as well. He couldn't feel the slight rise of blood to the surface of the broken skin, spilling down and the dirt sticking to his clothes. Frank just laid there under the tree where he fell from the root, left foot just touching it while his right leg was only brought up slightly.

He pressed his cheek to the cool ground, closing his eyes and letting the tears drop, jerking violently when he feels a hand on his shoulder. None other than Mikey Way stands above him, worry etched into his face as he pulled Frank's dead weight off the ground.

"Come on... you can always sleep when we get back." Mikey whispered, pulling a stumbling Frank to his mothers car that really wasn't far from where he fell. Mikey piled into the back seat with the shorter of the two who as soon as the door closed bursted into heart wreaking sobs.

He couldn't breathe.

Frank clutched at his chest, eyes closed and tears running steadily down his face, the salty water stinging against the open wound. His choked gasps for air and his quiet sobs filled the car with the air of dread and depression. Mikey only hugged his friend, his mother looking at Frank in the mirror before starting the car to leave.

The whole way back to the Way household was filled with the decreasing sound of sobs that were replaced by broken sniffles followed by attempting to breathe normally. To be honest, Frank was in completely just... he was absolutely fucked up mentally. His eyes were heavy with black, thick bags that were only there a bit earlier on. His eyes were bloodshot completely, lashes wet and sticking together like they're planted to each other with mascara. His cheeks were flushed and his hazel eyes were glazed over, tears welling in his eyes but falling quietly. They dropped down the little slope of his nose and dampening the hair that happened to be in the way.