My Injuries, Your Injuries (Completed)

Chapter 15

IM BURNED MY HAND ON THE FLuckInG OVEn. IT WAS FOUR HUNDRED FLuckInG DEGREES. My hand IS dyING. ;-;

CARRY ON.
THANK YOU

xoCrashFire

*~*~*~*~*

I get home just after nine o'clock, after trying to figure out why he doesn't get hurt when I do and finally managing to pry all the razors and pencil sharpeners from Gerard. I searched every inch of his room and removed all the razors from the bathroom. When I left Gerard's room and came downstairs, I gave Donna the razors from the bathroom and told her, with much emphasis, to keep the razors from Gerard.

I grabbed a spare plastic shopping bag from their kitchen and dumped all the razors sharpeners in it, making sure none escaped to the floor.

And now here I am, walking inside my front door, the plastic bag dangling from my wrist.

"Frank! Where did you go?" She asks, eyeing the bag on my arm.

"Not the store. I had to go back to Mikey's house, I said something I shouldn't have to his brother over the phone and I needed to fix it. I'm sorry to worry you." I sigh and head to the stairs, really just wanting to sleep. 

"What's in the bag?" Dad asks, talking for the first time.

"Just.. Nothing important," I lie hesitantly. My parents always find a way to pry the truth out of me. If they try to figure this one out on their own, well, it won't look too well for me. I mean, I'm pretty sure they aren't expecting, like, twenty sharpeners and blades to be in the bag.

"If it isn't important, why don't you show us?" Dad interrogates, stepping forward and reaching for the bag.

"Because," I say through gritted teeth, jerking the bag away. "It's a secret that I'm sure Mikey's brother doesn't want people knowing." Smooth one, Frank. That definitely would not make them want to look in the bag.

Mom just nods, slapping a small smile on her cracked lips. Dad doesn't seem to want to give up, but nods anyway. Geez, what do they think I'm hiding? Murder weapons? Drugs?

I turn around and head back up the stairs, thinking of a place I could hide these so my parents don't find them before I throw them out tomorrow. You know, I could have just kept them in my car. That would've been the best option.

I look around my room, trying to figure out the best hiding spot. Dresser? No, too obvious. Under the bed? Definitely not, even then it could be an obvious spot. Wait, but I'll throw them away on my way to school and my parents definitely won't look while I'm in the room. Are they even planning on searching? Either way, I just need to keep the bag with me.

So, I go against my better judgement and put it in my dresser, under the numerous articles of clothing. I just hope they don't try to look for it. My parent's do believe in privacy, but only to a certain extent. So, if they think I bought a bunch of drugs off of Gerard, they'll do everything to make sure they're wrong and I'm still their good Catholic boy.

I eventually fall asleep, thinking a little more about Gerard than the possibility of my parents finding a bag full of blades in my drawers.

It's bad, but all this promising to help him business is making a little infatuated with him and I think I've formed a small crush on him.

*~*

I wake up, looking around to find nothing out of place. Good, but that doesn't stop my mind from making the worst assumption and thinking they actually found it. I could blame no one but myself if they did. Well, I could blame them for being nosy bastards, but, of course, I wouldn't call them that.