Frank's POV
It was a real surprise to see Gerard on the street. What was his problem though? He could have been nicer. I mean we did use to be best friends. But what was his problem? He looked like he had been crying.
I turned the corner and entered the first apartment building. I walked up the stairs to the place I'm forced to call home. I looked at the clock. It read 8:45. Was it that late already? I didn't know that I had been at work that long. I work at my favorite store: HotTopic.
Gerard and I used to love going there and hanging out. But then he moved on from being my friend. I just never got to tell him that I was in love with him. He knew that I'm gay and one day I had tried hanging out with him and he told everyone that I was gay.
The one thing that I had kept a secret until then. That's when the teasing started. They would act like they were gay just to mess with my mind. Then they would beat me. They even beat me in class sometimes. The teachers, they don't care. They turn their heads away. Allowing them to do this to me.
Before high school, I didn't have to live in this hell hole. I was token from my parents after the beating started in school. They would follow me home. Leave message in the mailbox, on the house phone, in my email, on my cell phone. My parents thought that it was me who was starting this stuff or making it all up. So the beat me for it.
I then called ACS and they did what they do. They took me away from my parents and moved me across town. After they got rid of me, my parents moves. Able to do so now that I wasn't there. They placed me in this house full of girls. They only household that would take in a gay kid.
I guess it's just really hard to accept me.
I went to my room. My room has pictures of all these band members from bands I listen to. Like Green Day, Artist Vs. Poet, SlipKnot, Avenged Sevenfold, Pierce The Veil, Bring Me The Horizon, Breathe Carolina and basically any good screamo band. Their screaming is like my way of getting away.
I turned on the new BMTH album and just laid on my bed. I wanted to be left alone. I needed to prepare for tomorrows beating. So I just kept taking deep breaths. I sat up. About to get up to go take a shower when I heard the door slam. Great now I'll have to go and have a talk with them.
I turned off my music and walked out of my room. I walked into the kitchen where my "mom" was waiting for me. She had a smile on her face.
"Hello Frank." She said in a pleasant voice.
"Hi Mrs. Clark." I replied.
"Frank, you know you can call me mom."
"I know I just choose not to."
"Why?"
I bit my lip. I can come up with a million reasons why I don't want to call you mom. But instead I just shrugged my shoulders. She had a disappointed face on. She turned around to unpack the groceries. I rolled my eyes. I could care less about her having hissy fit cause I wont call her my fucking mom.
I don't want to call her my mom. I don't like her. I just don't want to. There is nothing similar (in looks) for us to be considered mother and son. My parents might have hated me but they were the best. They just can't be replaced. She finished putting the groceries away and turned back to me.
"How was work?" She asked.
"I don't know." I said and shrugged my shoulders.
"But you were there right?"
"Yeah I was there."
"When did you get home?"
"I DON'T KNOW!"
I was getting majorly tired of her always asking questions. Always making sure I showed up to school. To work. Even coming home on time. She looked like she was hurt because I yelled at her.
"I have a lot of homework to do. Night." I told her then walked back to my room.
Once back into my room I closed the door and locked it. The clock read 9:20. I wasn't really going to go do my homework. Usually when I know that I'm going to get beat the next day I don't do my homework. I just wish that I wont wake up the next day. So instead of doing home work I just set my books out on the floor and turned on my music again. I then took a lot of pills in hope that I wont wake up the next day.
Then I just drifted into a sleep that I hoped would end my life.
