Frerard -
Chapter One.
Frank's POV
I had seen him quite a few times now, 19 to be exact. 19 was my lucky number as well.
I had always seen him the same way, wearing the same thing. Same short-ish black hair, same beautiful, delicate face with paper-like skin and yellowy-green eyes that shone in the light. The first time I had seen him, I had been eight years old. The day that my Mother caught my Father with a woman from work. The day that they had fought, screamed, and he had hit her. After that they weren't sure who would get me - they never really wanted me in the first place. My Father had told me on many occasions that I was an accident, a product of a very drunken night on the back seat of his first shitty car. Classy.
That day I had been sitting on the floor in my room, crying. Screaming on the inside but trying to stay silent on the outside, so that they wouldn't hear me. My whole life was falling apart, and that was especially scary at the tender age of 8.
I heard another scream sound out followed by a loud crash - he had obviously hit her again. My mother's screams were the worst thing in the world. All I wanted to do was help her. But I couldn't. I buried my head in my lap and felt the tears stream down my face, whimpering.
"Don't cry"
My head shot up. Where did that voice come from? Had I imagined it? I stood and looked around but there was no one there. Must have been my imagination. I sat down again and then looked up at the room around me - all the old toys and crayons scattered across the floor and desk. I turned and was shocked to see a face looking back at mine from across the room. I screamed a little, but then put my hand over my mouth. The shouting downstairs continued so they obviously hadn't heard me.
He was beautiful. It was hard to tell what his age was as he looked young like me, but much older at the same time. His eyes shone in the sunlight from the window next to him, and he had a concerned look on his face.
"Was that you that spoke to me just now?" I asked, sniffing and rubbing my eyes.
He nodded.
"Who are you?" I asked. He shook is head, looking disappointed. "Can't you tell me?" I asked. He shook his head again.
I stood and walked slowly over to him, stopping when we were standing infront of eachother. He had a long, white gown on, much like a hospital one, but very plain. His feet were bare and very pale, rested lightly on the wooden floor of my bedroom.
He smiled and brought his hand up to my face, brushing away a tear halfway down my cheek. I couldn't feel him touch my skin... but the tear disappeared. He smiled at me and reached down to my hand, holding it. Even though I couldn't feel anything, it helped me more than anyone in my life before ever had. As he smiled at me, the shouting from downstairs stopped and I heard a car engine start up and a car drive away. My Father had left, and all the fear was leaving with him. I was going to be alright.
"Thankyou" I said to the boy, realising that he must have done this for me somehow.
The boy let go of my hand and walked over to the chalk board I had propped up against my wall that I liked to draw on. He had his back to me now and his hand was moving as if he was writing, but I didn't see him pick up any chalk, and I couldn't hear the familiar scratching noise on the board. He stopped writing and then turned to me, smiling once more before disappearing. The mist where he had been cleared, and I saw the message he had left me.
My name is Gerard, and you are never going to be alone.
I saw Gerard over the years 18 more times, whenever something terrible happened to me. When I felt like giving up, like I wanted things to end, he was always there. He would appear and just make everything better. I hadn't heard him speak since our first encounter, but that didn't matter. He made me feel safe. He was there, and so, I was never alone.
I am now seventeen, and Gerard is still with me.
Thanks for reading guys, the next chapter should be up soon... hopefully tomorrow. I'm going for Gerard in this story to look something like this btw. This picture seems quite pure and beautiful and that's the sort of image his character has. Just imagine him a bit more angelic (If that's even possible) and perhaps a different age. The mystery of his age is very confusing at the moment, I just believe that when Frank sees him, he sees him to look the same age as himself.
. /imgres?q=gerard+way+black+hair&um=1&hl=en&tbm=isch&tbnid=19XQNVHri9vc0M:&imgrefurl= /image/330191/&docid=PEFlkj5KpL_CJM&imgurl= . &w=500&h=678&ei=ES97UJDaIOeS0QWKqYDoDQ&zoom=1&iact=hc&vpx=836&vpy=199&dur=2386&hovh=262&hovw=193&tx=186&ty=217&sig=109164997687674787210&page=2&tbnh=160&tbnw=120&start=26&ndsp=38&ved=1t:429,r:11,s:20,i:192&biw=1361&bih=719
My comfort zone tends to be in Frank's POV, but in later chapters I might use Gerard's. It depends. Hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Reviews are like cups of coffee - you can never have too much! :)