the world is ugly by gianamariThe room was trashed. Books thrown, papers ripped up. Photos that once hung on the wall, now lay broken on the floor. He had picked up his Nightmare before Christmas frame and saw the three once happy kids and threw it across the room. It fell to the floor with a crash. He wiped his eyes and went to pick it up. It wasnt broken, completely. Sitting down at his desk he placed the picture back where it was.
He sat there, running his pale hands through his hair, staring at the picture. The picture was his favorite, him at 14, his brother at 12, and his sister at 4, playing on the monkey bars. He longed for her. To hold her in his arms, to feel her breath on his chest when he hugged her. Its been six years since he drove her away with his addictions. Its been longer since hes wanted to be with his sister.
There was a knock at the door. He wiped his eyes again and threw on a pair of sunglasses so no one could see he had been crying.
You Will Never Be Alone-FrikeyYou Will Never Be Alone Frikey
Well be back on New Years. Mrs. Iero said kissing her sons forehead. She hugged him tightly and walked out the front door. Frank watched them get in the car and pull out down the drive; he stood there frozen, watching as they drove down the road. Tears welled up in his eyes as they disappeared around the corner; he hated being alone, especially so close to Christmas.
He just wasnt having a good week, first his long time boyfriend dumped him, and then his parents were going out of town until New Years. Frank walked to his bedroom and collapsed on his bed, he reached over to the stand where his stereo sat, and he turned it on and laid there crying into his pillow, listening to the music.
Sometime during the night Frank woke up to a loud knocking at the door, Frank wiped his eyes and walked into the living room, he walked to the front door and opened it Mikey? he asked, surprised.
Welcome to the Black Parade -3Chapter Three
And in my heart I cant contain it/ the anthem wont explain it
Dragging his feet against the floor, he slowly made his way to the dining table. Morning had not erased the dream from the night before. It clung onto his mind, tendrils winding into his conscience. His eyes were bleary, half closed with a reddish tinge that indicated his lack of sleep. Dinosaur pajamas hung limply from his shoulder blades, creases casting long shadows in his clothes.
There was a boiled egg on the table, and a note next to it. He ignored the egg and lifted the Post-it gently. Turning it over in his hands, he scanned the cursive scrawl.
Joey, it read, Ive gone for the cremation. Stay at home. Remember to finish your tuition homework.
Joey read it over a few times before the meaning sank in. &