My life is just a living hell.

Shit gets real old real fast when it happens day in, day out, every single day of your life.

I can't keep doing this every day. It's tearing me apart to live like this.

Let me give you some background knowledge. My name is Frank Iero, I'm 17 years old, and my life sucks. My dad ran out on me and my mom, my mom is never around because she's too busy with her asshole boyfriend, and the last person on Earth who cared about me killed himself 6 months ago. He jumped off a bridge. Not even into water; the 'river' that runs under the bridge had been dry for years.

His name was Gerard, and he was the single most perfect human being I've ever met in my entire life. He was an angel in the midst of destruction, he was a saint among sinners, he was a diamond in the middle of rhinestones, he was the most beautiful person to ever grace this hell called Earth… you get the idea. I loved him so damn much. He was the only person who believed in me, the only person who told me I was worthwhile, the only one who ever loved me. Damn I loved him. I loved him so much.

/*~Flashback~*\\

"Frankie? Frankie, what are you doing? Where are we?" I pulled the blindfold off Gee's eyes, revealing to him that we were in my basement room.

"You know that song you wrote? I finished it," I said, pulling Pansy's (Pansy is my white Les Paul) strap over my head.

"You finished Demolition Lovers?"

"Yeah. I figured I'd give it to you as a sort of early birthday present, since your birthday's only a few weeks away."

"Can… Can I hear it?"

"Of course! Are you crazy? The whole reason I finished it was so you could hear it," I said, beginning to pick out the notes I had so carefully written on the page in front of me.

By the time I had finished the song, Gee looked ready to cry.

"Baby… it's perfect," he said, wrapping me in his arms. I didn't care in that moment that he was 20 and I was 17. I know this sounds corny, but he was my true love.

/*~End Flashback~*\\

He killed himself not even a month after that. He addressed his note to me, didn't mention anyone else in it. Just me. It caused his family to hate me for it. They had never accepted Gerard being gay, and they never liked me. Now, Gerard's brother, Mikey, and his friends, Bob and Ray, tormented me every day.

All I ever heard any more was that I was an emo fag, a gay bitch, a goth loser, a vampire whore. I came home with bruises every day. My Facebook wall was littered with insulting posts that had me tagged in them, and a bunch of rumors. My locker had become sort of a second home to me now; I was pushed and locked inside of it that often.

I was getting tired of this shit. I didn't want to keep living this shitty thing that was my life.

So I planned it all out. On my birthday, exactly 6 moths after Gerard left my life, I would join him. I was going to go over to the bridge, stand right in the middle, and jump off. I wouldn't even bother with a note. It's not like anyone cares. I didn't have anyone left to say goodbye to. Not even that Jamia girl that's in my math class. She was civil, yeah, but I didn't like her enough to say goodbye to her.

On second thought, maybe I would leave a note. A note saying how much I hated everyone, about how horrible and hellish Mikey and Ray and Bob and even my own mother had made my life.

I had only two days left. I was going to do everything I had always wanted to do.

The next day at school, I punched Mikey. I flipped off my principal while I was riding my skateboard through the hallways during class. I spat on Miss Riley, the bitch they had the nerve to call a teacher.

The next day, I finished getting everything ready. I wrote out my note, I wrote down a couple of last wishes, and I packed up all of my stuff. I stayed up all night, playing Pansy. It was a Saturday; so I didn't have to get ready for school. I played until about 10 in the morning. The last song I played was Demolition Lovers. I finished the song, and put Pansy in her rightful place on the stand, right by my pillow. I changed my clothes. I put on my favorite outfit: a red tee that read HOMOPHOBIA IS GAY in scratchy letters across the front, my leather jacket, a pair of black jeans, and my red and white converse.

I asked to be buried in Gerard's favorite outfit on me: Ripped gray skinnies, a tight black v neck, my chunky boots, and green and black striped gloves over fishnet gloves, with my black beanie. If I was going to wear something for the rest of eternity, it was going to be what Gerard loved.

I slipped my note and last wishes into my pocket, but not before rereading my wishes one last time.

I want to be buried in the only outfit left in my dresser. It should have a tight black shirt, green and black fingerless gloves, fishnet gloves, some ripped gray jeans, and a black hat. I want my lip and nose rings to be in too.

I want the song Anthem Of The Angels by Breaking Benjamin played as the only song at my funeral, and I want black and red daisies.

I want to be buried with Gerard Arthur Way, my boyfriend who passed away on April 30th.

That was all. I was ready. I went into my kitchen, looking around for a moment and deciding I wanted nothing to eat. I walked out the front door, shutting it behind me.

Was it normal to be so calm when you're about to kill yourself?

I made the short walk to the bridge. I walked over to the middle of it and looked over the edge. It must have been 150 to the bottom. I pulled my head back and shook my body a bit, loosening for what I was about to do. I took a deep breath and hoisted myself up onto the small barricade. I swung my legs over the edge so I was sitting on the fence. I took a deep breath. Why was I suddenly scared? I had been so calm this whole time. I shook my fear out of my head, preparing myself to face the unknown.

I jumped. The ground rushed towards me so quickly I barely had time to register that I was about to die. Right as I hit the bottom, I looked up, and saw a bright light, along with a familiar person with a shock of cherry red hair smiling and holding out a hand to me.

"Come on Frankie. Let's go home."