Shadows of the Past (Frerard)

Shadows of the Past

[A/N]- This is my second Frerard story. It would mean a lot to me if you guys were to read and comment your opinion about the story and what you like or dislike about it. Gerard is a few years older than Frank in this story. Without further ado, enjoy~

The blue washed away mid-afternoon, leaving no traces of a silver lining; the recent optimistic thoughts that were running through my head not so long ago seemed so out of my reach now. I longed for them, I needed them; for, wishful thinking was all I had most days.

The gray clouds marched vigorously, I didn't even notice them until they were overhead (or maybe subconsciously noticed them, but just chose to ignore the fact). They encompassed the sky, as if it was their prey; they pounced as rain began to pour.

I sighed sadly, tearing my eyes from the window and turning to the stale slice of cheese pizza that was in front of me. The cheese tasted like melted plastic, filling every cavity of my mouth with a bland and sour aftertaste that I desperately tried to get rid of, as I swallowed half of my Zephyrhills' water. I looked down to the plate, carefully avoiding everyone's eyes. It was a constant routine, but I was pretty damn good at it. As I looked down at the Styrofoam plate, the spots of tomato sauce reminded me of blood stains.

My hunger left me, leaving my stomach churning and turning. I decided to dump the half eaten slice of pizza in the trash (since I wasn't going to eat anymore). Normally, I would have finished whatever I choose to eat; but today, a strange feeling took place in me. I earned some careful glances from the head nurse, Anne Thompson; I forced a smile and nodded at her politely before discarding the uneaten food. Soon after, I found my way back to my usual seat, two across from Anne. Her lively, blue eyes locked on my dull, hazel eyes for a moment. I continued to stare into her eyes for a few seconds until she tore her eyes away. She gave me a half smile and cleared her throat. She opened her mouth, so as to speak, but closed it after a moment, deciding against it. I wanted to thank her for keeping silent, despite all the gentle scratches of voices.

I listened quietly to the conversations in the lunchroom for several minutes before an unwelcome pain made its way into my head. My fingers twitched and I closed my eyes. Maybe I was coming down with something, I thought, or maybe my lack of sleep was catching up to me. I stood up, quietly. Fresh air always worked wonders for me.

I made my way through the corridors, fluorescent lights overhead and newly bleached tiles under my feet, until I came across a flight of stairs. I hurried down, my fingers finding the pack of cigarettes in my pockets, fidgeting with the edges of the carton.

Once I pushed the door open, the first drizzles of May hit my chest and face. The corners of my mouth lifted up; it was the first genuine smile I had in months and although it was directed at no one, I could sense a presence smiling back at me. I chuckled as I opened the pack of cigarettes, not caring if I might get wet due to the rain. I tilted the box to a side, picking out a cigarette delicately as if it was a flower, the petals were mesmerizing and soothing but the thorns that lay hidden were dangerous and lethal. I brought the cigarette to my lips, fumbling with the matchstick for a moment, before striking the head of the match with the gritted surface.

My left hand cupped around the match and I brought my head forward, to ignite the cigarette. Once lit, I gave the match several shakes to put out the small fire. I dropped the blackened matchstick onto the pavement, focusing on the small flower. The aroma clung to me like a cloak; I found my shoulders relaxing as I blew out some smoke. I watched how the soft rain fell against my arms and chest, soothing me to a dream-like stance. It brought me back to a distant time; I remembered me and Mikey making our way to the local comic book store, saving up all our allowances for several weeks in order to buy a pristine rare comic. By the time we went to buy, it had been told to us that it was sold seemingly by the first week. I remember Mikey's scowl, utterly devastated that he didn't get the comic he wanted. I convinced him to buy another one, but by the time we left the store, we spend over sixty dollars. Mikey and I swore to not tell our parent, I remember his bright eyes and big grin as he hugged his comics, telling me it was a deal.

I shut my eyes tightly, I saw stars. I promised myself that I would not think about the past, I wouldn't think about Mikey, nor my father and mother. As if some seraph up above the gray, trite clouds felt my distress, I heard sirens yell. I opened my eyes, colors blurred into one. I blinked a few times; from the distance, I could see an ambulance.

And that was the day, I met Frank Iero.