Chapter 29: Headfirst for Halos.
Narrator
7 1/2 months later. . .
A very hungover Frank lies in his bed with weary eyes that were red raw from the amount of tears he's cried and the lack of sleep he's gotten. At his bedside was a gathering of empty brown beer bottles mixed with Night Time Cough & Cold Sleep Aid that he used to try and help him sleep with no success.
For the last seven and a half months he's wallowed in depression mixed with self medicating and endless nights of drinking alone in his room. His daily routine usually consists of waking up for School with a major hangover, drinking coffee until night fall then breaking out the booze and prescription drugs.
He hasn't talked to anyone in a very long time. The last he heard Gerard and Rae were living together in an apartment in New Jersey, Rae would crash at a friend's house in Brooklyn during the week then return to New Jersey for the weekend. Ray is busy with University as well as Mikey. Jimmy and his band are on their first tour. Frank felt completely useless, even though he's getting amazing grades in University. He didn't have Eliese there to keep him warm anymore.
The box of things sat on the chair across the dark, messy room; taunting Frank as if it were merely a ghost from the dark corners of his mind. He cradled the black hoodie, inhaling her scent as if it were Cocaine to give him his next high.
Frank didn't know it at the moment but Rae was walking up the front path to his house. She had come home early from Brooklyn for Spring Break instead of going to Mexico with her University friends. She's taking a couple of weeks off School to spend in New Jersey with Gerard, she misses being with him and her next couple classes are merely reruns of what she already knows.
Frank's mom didn't hesitate to let Rae in from the warming weather outside. She strutted into the house and kicked off her shoes politely, leaving the over worn green and orange sneakers at the front door. She set her bag down on the lounge chair and confidently walked to Frank's room which was located upstairs at the far end of the house. Rae knows Frank's been struggling with coming to terms with what's happened but it's been almost eight months, it's time to move on. She still feels sad that she lost her best friend but she doesn't like to think of that, she likes to think of all of the happy memories they have together.
Rae practically swung the bedroom door open wildly, making Frank flinch at the sudden beam of golden sunlight that rushed into his dark room. Rae frowned strongly when she saw all the beer bottles. The rumors were true, Frank has been self medicating. She didn't want to think that they were true but she's seeing it for herself now and it breaks her heart but at the same time it makes her mad.
"Good morning sleeping beauty." She sang happily going over to the blanketed windows and thrashing them open to let in more sunlight. Frank groaned loudly and covered himself with the light duvet that was on his bed. Rae went over and sat at the edge of his bed to wait for him to get used to the thought of her being there. Frank didn't want to be seen or heard, or exist for that matter.
"What time is it?" Frank breathed, knowing he was going to have to engage in conversation with Rae. Rae smirked and looked at her wrist watch.
"It's ten A.M." She sang happily. Frank groaned loudly again and sank into his bed. "-C'mon sleepy head, get up. We have happy things to do!" She sang as she bounced on the bed. Frank grew tired and grumpy of all of these people trying to cheer him up, he wasn't going to ever be happy again. Frank threw the blanket off of himself and snarled at her.
"No, we don't have happy things to do. I am not fucking happy." He shouted at her. Rae practically jumped to her feet when he did that. At first she was scared and felt guilty for doing this but then she was even angrier than before because he was refusing to let himself be happy and then he's going to complain that he's not happy. He can't do that.
"Y'know what, Frank? I didn't have to haul my ass out of bed at seven in the morning to drive directly from University to your house to try and cheer you up. I could've gone home and left you here to fucking wallow in your own goddamn mind! But I didn't. Why, I ask myself? Because Eliese would've wanted us to remain friends after she died and this is what friends do; they help each other. But if you don't want the fucking help then so be it." Rae gave him an earful of what everybody's been thinking since Eliese died and Frank fell into self condemed depression. But she was the only one to actually say it to him. Rae sighed heavily and looked over at the chair with the box on it.
"You haven't gone through the things she left you?" She asked stunned. She was sure he would've done that as soon as he got it. Rae knew what was in that box, it was in everyone's boxes. Frank shook his head and frowned.
"No." He breathed softly. Rae pursed her lips tightly and tugged at the hem of the black leather jacket Eliese had left her. It resembled Joan Jett's black leather jacket and that's why Rae got it.
"You really should, maybe you'll find the answers you're looking for." She told him flatly before leaving the bedroom, closing the door behind her as she left. She poiletly said Good-Bye to Frank's mom and left the house with her bag over her shoulder. Frank stayed lying in his bed, angrily staring at the box across the room. He heard Rae's old car start up and take off down the street. He didn't want to get up and look in the box, it'll be too painful but what Rae said had him curious. What if he does find the answers he's looking for in there? What if everything she's ever had to say is in there?
Frank sighed heavily and threw the blanket off of the rest of his body, kicking it off of his feet before he sorely rolled from his bed. His head began to throb as the hangover took affect. Frank unsteadily strode over to the box in a plain white tee shirt and a pair of denim jeans. His hair was messy and coated with sweat and grease. A lot of people believe he's homeless due to his unhygenic appearance. He pushed aside the open flaps to reveal the large black camera sitting on top of stacks of notebooks. Frank didn't want to know what was written in those books, he didn't want to see the words that were birthed by her mind. But everybody has to do things they don't wanna do.
Frank carefully took the box over to his bed and began to slowly empty the contents out over his white bed sheets. Eliese's camera was placed on the night stand safely while he emptied the box out. There weren't actually that many notebooks, it only appeared that way because there were an uncountable amount of journals under them. Frank's heart jumped up into his throat, it pounded in his ears as his stomach fell into his butt. He slowly picked up the first brown leather journal and opened it to see the year written on the front 1995. Frank and Eliese were fourteen years old then. She's been keeping journals since then. Frank felt like it was invaiding her privacy but he found it nice, like having one last conversation with her. He learned so much about her as he went on to read her journals. This was her world behind her world, the world nobody got to see; not even Frank. Every name she was called by Tom or someone at School was in there, every 3am conversation with her mom was in there, every moment of her life; every revealation and tormented thought was written into these journals. He even read about the moment she fell in love with him, it was like he was reliving it.
Frank sat on his bed for days just reading her journals. Frank didn't drink or self medicate; he drank tea and tried to stay awake. The more and more Frank read into the journals the more he realized that she really was an amazing writer. It made him sad because her amazing work will never be known, she will never be known.
Frank sighed heavily when he finally came to the last page of the last journal entry before she died. He could feel himself falling back into his depression but something stopped him.
August 10, 1999
Dear Frankie,
If you're reading this then I'm already gone, if you're not reading this; well then, I'm dead anyways. So I suppose it doesn't matter if you see this or not but I hope you do.
Okay; I know that you're like, majorly depressed right now; don't you fucking lie to me, I know you Frank Anthony Iero Junior, you're severely depressed because I died. All I gotta say is: Stop it. Right now, fucking stop it. Don't be depressed, don't be crying; I want you to feel fucking blessed. You're not in my place, you're so fucking lucky; so stop being a shit head and being depressed about it. If I had the choice to live while you died then I'd rather be dead. You have so much to offer this world, I don't understand how you can wish you were dead; it baffles me, really.
Frank, you have the world at your fingertips; you have a life to live. I know, I know, you're saying 'well so did you.' I did and I lived it. Jimmy told me once that someone can live 80 years in less than 20 years and I did that. I believe I fulfilled my purpose in life. You always used to say that I was an angel sent down from heaven to help you and that's what I did but I also helped other people too. I may not have written a book but I wrote my life story as it happened.
Now if you're going to be depressed about my death then I'm going to be very upset in the afterlife. Do you want that? Do you want to theoretically hurt me in my afterlife? No? I didn't think so. I know I made you sad because I kept something like this from you while I told my family. I couldn't bring myself to break you by telling you that I was dying. I found out the day that I got really drunk at the gig and we fell asleep in the back of my, your van. I was sad for a few moments but then I was happy. So I want you to do everything to be happy. Maybe you could, oh I dunno, ask Jamia Nestor out on a date. Yeah, remember, I told you to do that and you agreed to do it? I want you to become a rockstar, play huge festivals and concerts! I want you to get married and have babies, lots of them. I want you to get old and grey with your girl, watch the sunset while the Grandkids are playing; y'know the cliche shit. I want you to die happy because you deserve it. Tell Jimmy that I died happy. He needs to know that.
I left you my journals and notebooks because you and I have been through everything together and you always told me that you wanted to get inside my head to know what I was thinking and feeling, well here you go. You can see what I was thinking and feeling. But let me tell you something, there are somethings that can't be unknown once they become known. I've also left you an empty journal at the bottom of the box, it's yours. I want you to write down how you feel or what goes on inside your head.
I guess I'll see ya later, dude. I love you.
XoXo
Siddalee Eliese Vivan Taylor/Sullivan.
Frank stared teary eyed at the letter she wrote to him at the end of her book. It was merely moments before she passed out when she wrote this. He felt as if she had just wrapped him in a warm blanket of safety and security. Frank was no longer upset about her not telling him that she was dying, he now understood that it wasn't easy for her to come out and say it gently. In reality, there is no easy way to tell the love of your life that you're dying. Frank understood everything now. He understood Eliese.