The place was pitch dark, how most of my visions always started. Something wasn't right. I've never had a vision more than once at a time but it felt like I've had three already in just this week alone.
The only time something like this happened, it was the Halsey incident, and well, she died. That was over ten years ago, when I was a young boy then that's when my father took me into the city to see a local priest at a church. He thought I was a necromancer.
Thankfully, my mother told me the truth. I trusted her, just like I trusted Frank.
So when I saw his lifeless body laying on the cold ground, I knew it just wasn't possible for him to lie to me and venture into what I told him not to.
These visions from 'god' as my mother would tell me, were getting worse. And I doubted that a man, spirit, whatever he was, would deliberately watch someone suffer the mental deaths of so many people without me being able to do anything to stop it, because I remember the last time I tried to stop one death, regretted it.
Now I was faced with another, and I desperately hoped it was just me going insane than the reality that was put infront of me. Not all my visions were correct, some were false, some were what had happened in the past. I didn't even know anymore.
All I knew was that in the end, it didn't even matter.
"Gerard?" That was Mom, dragging me out of my haze. I shook my head slightly before looking up at her. "You haven't even touched your food," She noted, bitterly. I cleared my throat before I took a bite of the traditionally seasoned Italian salad.
Frank was vegetarian, he would have loved this. The name left a scar in my memory. Frank...
"Your school informed me that you skipped school yesterday," Dad started and I didn't say anything, just chasing a stray pea around in my plate, not looking at anybody.
"Care to explain why?" His tone grew into a no-nonsense one and I sighed.
I was destroying myself for drugs.
"I was doing an extra credit project and I needed to go to the public library to do some research," I said, looking up.
He stared at me for a very long time and my left eye started twitching. Fuck,
The room was quiet, and I just knew what was going to happen.
I watched as my father dropped his cutlery. He wiped with the napkin and got up. I tensed up instantly as he came over. His eyes meeting mine as he told me to get up and I did.
"Donald---" My mom began but he caught her off. Mikey was just sitting quietly, focusing too hard on his dinner. He was used to all of this by now.
I followed him as we went upstairs and squared myself up for what was to come. He opened the door and I walked inside. The room I always dreaded to enter. The room that had scarred me so many nights as a child. I wasn't suppose to be scared of it anymore because well, in a few days I would be 20. But that didn't stop the goosebumps, nor did it stop my heart from beating like a drum.
He locked the door. "So, after everything you put your mother through, put ʍɛ through; you want to slip up again?!" I whimpered slightly at his harsh tone and dropped my gaze. I didn't like it when guys shouted at me, it reminded me of Matt.
I swallowed hard and tried to formulate an adequate reason for my lack of composure. "I'm not, I just went to the library," I defended.
He went to the storage closet at the back of the room and I could feel the lump forming in my throat.
"Dad--"
"Remove your shirt," He ordered, and I pursed my lips shut. There was no point lying or pleading. I shouldn't have gotten into a fight and skipped school. So I guess I deserved it.
