Gerard.
•I hate myself. I hate myself. I hate myself.
I'm a filthy, wretched little whore.
And I'm letting it happen.Bert wanted me to stay off school, so I did. Bert wanted me to dress like a girl, so I did. Bert did so many thing to me, so I sat and took it. This had been happening two days, two fucking days and I was already covered in wounds a dead man would have.
One person had been on my mind through all of this, Frank. I wondered how much more destroyed his body was, how much more weight he was losing.
I don't care about how I weighed 46 kg. I wanted him to be okay.
"Sugar?.." Bert said, whispering huskly into my ear. "You okay baby?"
"Y-y-ye-yes." I stuttered weakly, I'm so weak.
"Stop talking like you have fucking problems, it's a real turn off. As soon as possible you're going back to your house. I can't stand the sight of you, whore."
"B-b-but.." I can't go home. I'm covered head to toe in bruises and cuts self inflicted and not.
I could go and find Frank. I could go to his house. I need to know if he's okay.
"Talking back to me?!" He screamed.
"No! I'm sorry!" Pathetic.
"You better be, pass me my belt sweetheart. Your back needs some more marks."
-
I'm so tired. I've been used more times than anyone should be, one is bad enough. Bert kicked me out, he couldn't stand the sight of me, I can't stand the sight of me anymore.
I ran down the street crying, tears streaming down by bruised face. It hurt. So much.
I managed to snag my phone off of Bert before he made me leave, so I called Frank. No answer, again. Nothing.
Fuck, Something isn't right.
YOU ARE READING
Cutting Edge (Frerard)
RomanceThis is an eventful ferard fanfic. Some parts are more triggering than others.