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The following is a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

Please see the Terms of Service for more information.

 

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Ice
By MCRmy Marcher

 



Ice
Frank One Shot

Frank :

The ice. The thin cold layer of ice. The thin cold breathtaking layer of ice now swarmed around the
place that gets the most damage. The place which holds alot of memories, too many memories drained
due to the icy coldness that has attacked them. The memories innocence has been replaced by fear due
to this cold surface that has shadowed it. It fears that soon enough every part of me will forget
about it.

Every part of me that has not been over shadowed by this thin layer. The parts of me which shines
bright, holding on to every ounce of hope it can find. Very valuble, very rare. Very little
remaining of it. My body knew that hope was no longer left inside but it still had that feeling that
it could be found.

How this layer of coldness had captured an area in my body is quite simple hate. Hate is what caused
this layer to form. Hate caused by the people that surround me. Hate from my own family. Hate that
came from friends. Hate that came from the bullies and most importantly self hate.

My own family hates me. My mother left when i was only a three year old child, a three year old
innocent child with no sense of direction in the world. No sense of right from wrong. When my mother
left i was left alone with my father. I still remember the last fight my mother anf father had
before mother left. She said she couldn't handle it anymore, she was sick of my father's constant
late night's out and not giving a fuck about her. That was my earliest childhood memory that is
still fresh in my mind.

My father was depressed when my mother left. He would sometimes forget i was in the house. One night
it was about 6 months after my mother left, he came home. He was drunk and had his arm around this
cheap slut. As a child i didn't really understand who she was, all i knew she wasn't my mother. He
told her to go upstairs and then approached me and shouted at me "Your worthless, you remind me too
much of Linda" His breath stunk and then that was the first time he slapped me.

It wasn't my fault. I was just a kid. As the years progressed he got worse and right now i am
sitting with bruises and scars all up my arms. He never touched my face after that other incident
because he knew that people would stare. I knew he didn't love me, i was just a toy that was used to
get beaten.

The bullies would constantly tease me and say that no one wants me. They didn't have to tell me, i
already knew that. They would follow me home and shout insults like "Your father is a drunk! Your
mother left because your nothing!" It would seriously hurt me inside. I just refused to let them
know how much it hurt. The bullying started from when i was young all the way to where i am now in
high school.

Because of the bullying and lack of my father's consideration i started self harming. Self harming
was the only pleasure i got. My father caught me just a few weeks ago actually and laughed. Laughed
at the fact that his 16 year old son was cutting. He started to shout to me "Your weak, your
nothing, your the reason Linda left me, your just a fucking worthless piece of shit" and then he
spat in my face.

My friends they hate me because well i don't talk much and they have been distancing for some time
now. Eventually i just stopped hanging out with them. I stopped going to school and everything. It
was too painfull to go to that school with the bullies and not being acknowledged at all. I stopped
going to school recently. It was actually about 6 days agao i stopped.

My self hate began when i was about 3 months into high school. I was sick of the way i was treated.
I felt like i wouldn't acheive anything in life because noone would support what i would like to do
in life. My father was too busy with the drink and i didn't have many friends.

I made my first friend when i was 14. About 2 years in high school. He was called Gerard. Gerard
gave me that slice of hope. He knew about my dad, my mum leaving and would defend me when it came to
bullies. He also stopped me self harming for a while. He introduced me to Mikey, Ray and Bob. They
were great until he arrived.

A new student had joined the school. His name was Bert McCracken. He developed a close bond with
Gerard and due to that bond me and Gerard's bond dissolved causing that slice of hope to also
disappear into nothing. I went back to my old ways with the self harming and shit. Ray would try to
help but soon enough he gave up.

"Your not worth it," I muttered to myself. I looked down and pulled my knees up to my chest and
lowered my head. I was nothing. There was no point exsisting if noone gave a shit about you. I cried
into my knees then looked up at the dim lightbulb. My room was the garage. Yes i slept in the
garage. My father hated my very presence inside the house.

I slowly rose to my feet and looked at the cardboard box that was sitting infront of me. Noone loved
me on the earth. I actually did fall in love with Gerard, but he could never know. I didn't know how
to tell him. I didn't want to tell him. I couldn't even tell him because before i stopped going to
school he got together with Bert. That made this layer even thicker. This layer had covered my
heart.

I still love Gerard. He was the only one that i could or ever had loved, he was the one that saved
me from myself, the one that stopped me doing something stupid because i knew that one person cared
about me. When i told him about my father and where all the scars came from, he listened and gave me
my first hug. I got my first hug when i was 14 years old. Sad right? I left a note beside the box an
A4 sheet of paper with everything written down carefully folded for my finder.

I took a deep breath and stood ontop of the cardboard box where i came face to face with the rope
that was hanging down from a pipe that went across the ceiling of the garage. This rope would take
away the pain, it would take away all the negativity and best of all it would take away all those
harsh memories.

My father would probably not even know i had done what i am about to done. I would probably be stuck
hanging here. If he was to find me he would have to get in contact with my mother. Not that my
mother would care she is the one that left me for 13 years and didn't take me with her. She probably
had a new family and new children. New children that she loves alot, the children that are her
world. The children that she was more proud of than me.

The tears are now falling down my cheeks again. The fact that she was probably happier, she has
probably been happier the past 13 years. I grabbed hold of the rope and placed it around my neck. "I
could have done you proud mama" I whispered. I shut my eyes and jumped off the box, that layer of
ice began to work its way around my body as the blackness consumed my eyes.

Gerard :

"Frank has not been here," I was seriously starting to get more and more concerned, it had been six
days and im freaking out.

"Relax maybe he moved school," Mikey suggested.

"He wouldn't have left without telling us but," I said standing up and walking out of the
canteen.

"Where are you going?" Bert asked taking a bite of his sandwhich.

"To see Frank," I said. They shouted after me. I didn't care. I had this feeling in my gut something
was wrong. I knew what went on in his life, they hadn't a clue what was wrong. His dick head of a
father had abused him. He is the one probably stopping him from going to school.

We may not be as close but my fuck i still cared about him, i opened a door from him and when he
told me i had given him his first hug, that really did tear at my heart. He was a lost soul filled
with fear and does not know what to do. He can barely read. He is a good writer though. I don't know
how that works but somehow he can write but not read.

I made my way around to his house and opened the weak metal gate. His dad's car wasn't there. I knew
his because i had to walk him home and his dad drived a really exspensive car. The moeny he spent on
the food could have been spent on Frank. But no he didn't give a fuck. I walked up the stone path
and opened the door not bothering to knock.

Inside the house there was a chill, a chill as cold as ice. So cold that it could instantly take
over your body if you gave it long enough to do so. "Frank?!" I called. My voice echoed throughout
the house. I got no reply. Slowly i began to walk down the small hall. Frank lived in a 2 story
house. He wasn't on the first floor so i checked the second. There was only one bedroom i assumed
was his dad's room. Where did Frank stay? That's probably where he is.

I went down the stairs again and walked into the kitchen. He couldn't possibly have been forced to
stay in the garage could he? I decided to check it and i slowly pushed down the braass handle
opening it. It creeked as i pushed it open. The room was dark and a lightbulb's small glow lit it
enough.

As i stepped into the room i looked around and my heart beated even faster and i stepped back of the
room. My hands were shaking as i closed the door and the colour drained out of my face. Frank's body
was hanging from a rope. He was dead. How long was he hanging there? My mind is so confused trying
to get itself in order. I slipped down the door onto the floor. I just found my best friend hanging
from a rope. my hands go roughly through my ahir. "Everything is okay," I chanted to myself. I
swallowed the lump in my throat and my heart was about to come out of my rib cage.

The tears were streaming down my face now. He was gone. He ended his life. He had so much ahead of
him. He could have became something. He could have accomplished so much, he could have left this
life behind and went forward. I stood up and walked back into the room again. I looked at him and my
eyes shut tight. I had to go over to him. I took another deep breath and approached the corpse.

A note lay beside the box. No name written on it. Just a folded piece of paper. I looked up at his
face and then lifted the note.

Dear -
Well since your reading this, you have probably discovered my dead body. The reason i have done
this is simply because i couldn't go on, the ice had fully taken over my heart. The heart that
beated with no purpose, no chance in forwarding in life. Noone liked me on this earth. Noone wanted
to help me on this Earth. One person tried and had succeeded fro a while. That was Gerard. Gerard
Way. He probably is busy with Bert. Bert is a lucky person to have him. Since im writing this i may
aswell confess that i loved him. He may be reading this right now. But if you are i wanted you to
know i love you alot. But seeing you with Bert tore me up even more. Our bond has broken when he
entered our lives. I like him don't get me wrong he is a nice person but well. I can't take anymore
of this shit either. My mother never cared about me. She probably has another family now, probably
has more children. I could have done her proud. But she left me in the dust.

I love you gee, live happilly. I couldn't be here with you. Im sorry

- Frankie
xoxo

He loved me. This whole time he loved me. I sunk to my knees as one of my tears landed on the
piece of paper. I looked up at him once again and folded the page still looking at his angelic face.
He was wearing a vest top, all the bruises, scratches, whip marks, scars and self inflicted wounds
were visible. There was so many things i wanted to say to him now but i couldn't. I didn't think he
would ever love me.

I was the only person he ever loved and i loved him too but i couldn't admit it. I just couldn't. If
i had

I could have saved his life from the ice that consumed him.



 

The preceeding was a work of fiction. Any statements regarding any person, place, or other entity (real or imaginary) is the sole responibility of the author of this work of fiction. Fan Works Inc. takes no responsibility for the content of user submitted stories. All stories based on real people are works of fiction and do not necessarily reflect on the nature of the individuals featured. All stories based on other copyrighted works are written with authors knowing that these works violate copyright laws.

Please see the Terms of Service for more information.

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