Give Me All Your Hopeless Hearts

(10) Jamia The Teenage Witch

I love rush so much
((Trigger warning right off the bat, y'all and it's overall hella dark... whoops))
...

The night was black and without a glimpse of the moon, the heavy clouds surrounding the area made the air feel as dense as a cake that calls for twelve yokes.

Which is very dense indeed.

Frank couldn't sleep as he waited for Gerard to come up to his room because lately he hasn't been able to sleep without him;  his dreams were becoming worse to the point that to the point that* where Mikey and Donna were concerned for him to where they considered putting Frank in the hospital.

Instead they chose therapy, which began the next afternoon.

The air was thick and still, the spirits that slowly surrounded Frank causing him to get tunnel vision. His hands twitched and his fingers slowly started to scratch at the soft skin of his forearm. He rocked back and forth a bit as he stared out of the window, thoughts and voices that were not his own filling his mind that was without a wall to fight against any of it.

Frank needed Gerard as the biting that felt as little needles pricking his skin, yet in reality, it was his nails. They were stronger tonight, it felt as if his chest were to explode and this only prompted his fingers to move quicker along his pale skin.

"Mommy dearest dead in pieces,," one voice whispered.

"Worthless worthless worthless."

"No one would care."

"No one would want you."

"He's lying to you."

That one stuck out. It stuck out like a sore thumb and it twisted his heart in gut wrenching knots.

"He doesn't love you."

Another one.

"He's going to leave you for dead."

"Do it, you know you want to."

"Do I really?" Frank whispered. His hands were shaking has his fists clenched as the spirits kept filling his mind, their venomous words seeming to soak into his already fragile brain.

"Take the sleeping pills. Take them."

Frank's hands begun to unfurl, fingertips white from lack of circulation from him having his hands clenched together so tightly. Oh so tightly as he numbly and unawarely beginning to scratch at the soft skin of his pale arms, the red marks slowing visibly as his nails tore the skin from his forearm.

"Frankie, come join me," a woman's voice said, sounding heavily distorted. Suddenly a wave of nausea washed over him like waves crashing on the beach. His stomach twisted into knots violently as his head spun and the feeling of lightheadedness began to take over his body. It was the pure fact it sounded like his mother that sent him over the invisible cliff of little bit sanity Frank possessed at the moment.

"Take them. Take them take them take them."

"Do it. No one is going to miss you."

"Take the goddamn pills!"

"Okay." Frank then agreed in a soft whisper, swaying in the moonlight in a deadly trance that was held over him. He lifted himself sluggishly from his seat in front of the window and with unstable footing, he moved towards the dresser across the room.

Maybe if Frank looked in the body length mirror he would be able to break it by seeing the dark spirits that fluttered like innocent butterflies; yet they were anything but innocent. Maybe if he tried harder to focus on pulling himself from the metaphorical ledge he was pushed over, he would have control over his body and common sense coming back to him.