Give 'Em Hell, Kid:
Expect the unexpected even in a fucking shitty little town like Kearny, New Jersey.
Hey, I'm Frank Anthony Iero Jr. (technically the third since my grandfather was named Frank but you know, go figure). I was born in Belleville, New Jersey but my mom, Linda, moved to Kearny (which isn't that far away in all honesty) after my parents split up, which freaking sucked ass and like tainted my whole fucking childhood. I've been a guitarist since I was a young kid though my dad wanted me to play like the drums. Me even at a young age, hating being what was told and 'authority' in general, picked up a guitar instead and taught myself to play by imitating Billy Joe Armstrong of Green day.
I have a few friends but I already know they don't give a shit about me or how I fucking feel so...Um, I use to have this girlfriend who I went to prom with and everything but later on she slept with my best friend and that just-just sucked.
I saved up and finally bought myself an epiphone elitist les paul custom guitar with an alpine white finish, her name is Pansy and she was fucking expensive, but don't worry it was SO worth it...
Oh everything you do in life will amount up to nothing more than a pile of shit, you leave for the world to clean up after they wear you down, put you out, and throw you in a grave.
I think this answers the essay prompt so...
THE END! :)
Frank scanned over it one more time, smiling, satisfied with what he wrote he snapped the notebook shut. He looked down at his watch,"Damn" He cursed he still had five minutes left in class. He tapped his pencil on his desk impatiently and clenched his jaw wanting so fucking much to be out of fifth period, or school, or New Jersey, either one would do.
He took out his i-pod, put in his ear buds, and put on shuffle, American Nightmare ringing in his ears...He closed his eyes and tapped his foot to the music, lightly head banging and mouthing every word in the song. Finally the bell rang, he gathered up his stuff, grabbed his back pack and got up to walk over to his sixth period, fucking Spanish. He didn't mind Spanish, he didn't do shit anyways, yet somehow he was still passing. His Spanish teacher was some fat white chick who didn't teach shit, which he didn't mind, he just listened to his i-pod all period long. Finally they released all the students and everyone chaotically filed out of class, pushing and shoving to get through the door.
Frank walked down the hallways and across school to his locker. Frank fumbled with his combination of his lock. His music was so loud he didn't hear the footsteps behind him nor did he hear the snickering of Jon Johnson the school's quarterback and his gang of loyal followers. Jon motioned at his friends and they all rushed at Frank, smacking his books out of his hands, slamming the side of Frank's face into the lockers, punched him the stomach, another right hook to the jaw... All the while Jon searched through Frank's backpack, finding Frank's wallet, taking all the cash in it, teasingly waving it before Frank's watering eyes and throbbing head, and then finally kneeing him right in the balls. They quickly ran off cackling, victorious, while Frank doubled over in pain, tears streaming out of the corners of his eyes. He let out a groan in pain and tried to get himself up off the floor. Every fiber of his being ached. He choked back his tears and swore he'd get his revenge some day, nobody motherfucks with Frank and gets away with it.
He clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth angrily as he gather up all his belongings strewn across the cracked and faded asphalt. As he reached out to grab his math book, he drew back seeing another hand holding it out for him along with his notebook. He looked up shocked, to see a pale dark haired boy with his other arm extended out. Frank took it and stood up. He brushed the dirt of his shirt and smiling at the stranger, took back his things and said,"Thanks."
"No prob," said the boy returning the friendly smile,"Oh, I'm Gerard," He stated, putting his hands in his pant pockets. Gerard looked a year or two older than Frank. He had a mass of messy black hair, pale complexion and strange hazel eyes. Gerard's back pack was slung around one shoulder, Frank noticed his hands were stained with black ink. Gerard was wearing a simple black hoodie, an Iron Maiden tee shirt, and a pair of black skinny jeans. Gerard leaned on one foot awkwardly and nervously bite at his lip. Frank chuckled,"I'm Frank, Frank Iero. Uh, nice to me ya,"Frank said cracking his knuckles,"Did you see anything that just went down?" He asked, hoping to god Gerard didn't. Gerard let out an uneasy laugh,"A little,"He admitted then shrugged,"Happens to me all the time..."He said in a quiet voice.
Frank pointed at Gerard's shirt with his thumb,"Iron Maiden huh?" He asked, trying to make casual conversation. A huge grin broke across Gerard's face,"Well of course. My kid brother Mikey and I are obsessed with Iron Maiden. What about you? Iron Maiden or Megadeath? Depending on how you answer that question, could be the end or start of our friendship,"He said jokingly but meant it in all serious.
"This a rhetorical question?" Frank asked, squinting his eyes at Gerard,"Iron Maiden obviously, that was a total no brainer,"He said crossing his arms over his chest,"Ask another one Gee,"Frank asked, ready for a challenge.
"Gee?" Gerard raised an eyebrow then shrugged, he's had worse nicknames,"Are you sure you're ready for this one Frankie?" He challenged and with that they started walking, side by side, though they didn't know it, it was the beginning of the end.
