After some time, Frank finally made an appearance at school. He didn't seem as okay as he used to be - not that I cared. I didn't.

I was about to go talk to Mister Remorseful and force him to speak, but the second he saw me, Frank was the one who came to see me. He started talking before I could utter a word.

"Gerard," he said, his voice sounding slightly whimpering. "I need to talk to you. Listen, I didn't know what I was doing. Please know that I'm so sorry for the past three months and the hell I put you through," Frank apologized.

He seemed sincere and almost desperate, but once again, I couldn't care less. He could shove his apologies where the sun doesn't shine.

Frank tried to pull me in a hug, but I pushed him away. "Don't touch me !" I exclaimed. "Don't you dare do that to me now. Do you really think your apologies will fix my bruised body? Will they give me back all the hours of sleep I spent in terror at the thought of you?!"

Frank withered in front of me. "Gerard, I know it won't erase anything. I know you will never forget but now, I'm crawling to you for your forgiveness."

"If it's another one of your plans to hurt me..." I growled. "So what, you're gonna play the bully who feels so sorry and apologizes? I'm curious about the excuse you will pick."

"There is no excuse good enough to justify what I did," Frank said sadly, taking my hands in his own. "I was a prick."

A surge of anger washed through me. "Damn right you were !" I yelled, shoving Frank's chest. He didn't defend himself, he only looked down shamefully.

"What did I ever do to you?!" I shouted at him, pushing him so hard he fell on the floor. Frank stood up and attempted to pull me in a hug a second time.

Again, I pushed him on the floor with all my strength. "I told you to stay away !"

Frank collided more violently with the ground this time. He grunted in pain and got back up on his feet again, quiet and gloomy. Something about him not fighting back made me so terribly angry.

I punched him in the face, putting in that blow all my fear and hatred he had fueled, that I had kept pent up inside me. Now was the time for me to explode.

It felt like the hardest test : not letting rage and frustration, nor forgiveness, keep me from thinking.

Frank staggered back. I waited for him to defend himself, but he kept staying still. I could see tears well in his eyes. I knew I was no better than him by hitting him, but right now all I could think about was 'an eye for an eye'.

My eyes watered. When Frank was my bully, a part of me had always hoped so much that this day would come. It wished Frank and I could make peace and stop hating each other.

Now that it was actually happening, it both felt surreal and not good enough anymore. All the apologies in the world couldn't make up for the pain Frank had inflicted upon me.

I punched Frank in the mouth and damn, it felt good. Frank receded because of the force of the blow but quickly presented himself back to me, looking down like a submissive puppy, accepting the way I was treating him. I peered at him, utterly confused by his behavior.

Then I understood that he would let me beat him up without saying a single word if that could make me feel better. He was willing to undergo anything, only holding onto the mere thought that maybe it could lead to his redemption.

It's when I understood that that I actually started sobbing.

Very conflicted feelings were battling inside me. Among them dominated hatred, but I was undeniably distraught. It was brave, crazy, bold... and so terribly moving. I could no longer have any doubt on how much Frank wanted me to forgive him.

"I hate you," I let out truthfully as big, warm tears rolled on my cheeks. Frank looked up at me, pain and tiredness more obvious than ever in his eyes.

Frank tried to hug me again, but I shoved him away, more gently than the other times. Actually, I barely pushed him. I wasn't strong enough to be mad at Frank anymore, not even close to how much I was allowed to be considering everything he had done to me.

Despite my weakness, Frank decided to give up on his attempt at hugging me and left me some personal space. Why would he even want to hug me? To comfort me emotionally or to make amends?

"I need you to listen to me. I need to talk to you," said Frank.

I eyed him from head to toe and folded my arms. "I have nothing to tell you."

"You don't need to speak. Please, just hear me out," Frank said softly. "I didn't know the whole story, but now I do."

"Will you tell me the whole truth?" I arched an eyebrow. I didn't even know what I was hoping to hear. But I wanted to hear it nonetheless.

"Aren't you tempted to forget? It would be so much simpler."

I shook my head. "I don't want to forget. I want to remember every detail. I'm visiting my memories like I would a haunted house. And I desperately need light in order to find a way out and finally, peace."

"I think the truth will be more of a misery than a relief," Frank stated.

"I am willing to take that risk. How can oblivion be bliss if I am aware that I am locked up in a cage of ignorance?"

Frank bit his lower lip nervously. "You're not ready to break free of this cage yet. I know it."

Anger came back when Frank said that. "If you're not here to tell me the truth, then you're only here to tell me lies or things I've already heard. So, save your breath."

I turned around and walked away from Frank, not giving him the chance to explain himself anymore. My heart felt like it was ready to implode from all the feelings.

"You should try to reach out for Helena. It's important to stay in touch with the people we love," I heard Frank say out loud from afar, a hint of mysteriousness in his voice.

I stopped in my tracks for a couple of seconds, hesitating between turning back to my former bully and keeping the conversation going, or simply ignoring him and walking away.

I chose the latter option and left. Maybe I shouldn't have had though, because the more I thought about it, the more Frank's words grabbed my interest.

How does Frank know Helena? How does he know the kind of relationship we have? Does Helena have the answers I'm seeking?

I decided to go back on my tracks, but of course, Frank had disappeared and was nowhere to be seen.

I was quiet during the whole way back from school, which Mikey noticed. He asked me what was going on. I lied and said everything was perfectly normal - it was easy when I was only bugged by something, and not tormented like I had been in the past. Besides, Frank's apologies had lifted a weight from my shoulders, which relieved me a lot.

I came home more than intrigued about what Frank had told me. Something inside me encouraged me to keep my questions to myself and investigate on my own.

Helena had told us that the phone wasn't working yet as she had just moved, but by now it should be functional, right? I decided I wouldn't write her, but rather try and reach out for her this way, by calling her. I needed to hear her voice.

I had no idea of how to find her number since she wasn't on the Internet or any social media. So, I called Grandma Helena's best friend, whose number I did have.

•••

She's dead.

I was expecting to get a phone number, but instead I was told the most unbelievable news that hit me like a ton of bricks. Grandma Helena was dead. Her heart committed suicide.

When I heard that, I felt something warm and wet helplessly flow down my cheeks and noticed I had started crying without realizing it. As soon as I hung up, I broke down in tears.

I spent the whole evening crying until Mikey found me on the floor, drowning in my own tears. He immediately knelt in front of me. "Gerard? What's going on? Why are you crying? Fuck, what did Frank do to you again? I'm going to smite that bastard."

I grabbed Mikey's arm to make him stay. I shook my head. "S-she's dead... She's dead..." I uttered hardly.

Mikey frowned confusedly. "What? Who is dead?"

"Grandma. Grandma Helena, she- she's dead," I repeated. No matter how many times I was saying it, it felt completely surreal to me. It just couldn't be. Grandma couldn't be dead.

Mikey's eyes widened. He didn't seem able to believe what I was saying any more than me. Ge sat down next to me and held me close. "She... She's dead?" he said softly.

I nodded, staring at nothing. "Her friend told me. She's gone."

Mikey didn't say anything at this and simply held me tighter. He didn't shed a tear, but looking at his face, I could see through his eyes the storm wrecking him from inside. He looked like he was dying inside.

Funny how differently people mourn and react when someone close to them disappears. I thought that caging emotions like Mikey always did wasn't healthy, because at some point, the pent-up pain and pressure explodes.

"I'm here for you. We'll get through this," Mikey spoke after a while. His words were so hard to believe though.

Then I told Mikey I needed to be alone. Of course, he protested. He wanted to be there for me, but right now I just needed to think. Eventually, Mikey had to leave. I locked the door and burst into tears again at the mere thought of grandma.

The first thing I did was to gather letters and pictures of Helena. I looked at every single one of them, for hours. I wanted to drown in memories, go back in time, live the past again.  At this point, tears were constantly making their way out of my eyes as I stared at the pieces of life carved in yellowish paper.

The world was progressively turning darker and darker. The memories soon weren't enough, and reality caught me. I couldn't even cut out what was killing me. The pain it was filled was too much to bear, and just wanted it all to stop, even if that meant my heart shut down.

I wished I couldn't feel a damn thing, I wish I didn't hurt so much. I wish I could peel the skin off my face with my nails. Physical plain was so much more preferable to such an emotional distress.

I wanted to be sedated. Sickness was taking over me. My body felt as if it was shutting down and rotting from inside. Pure sorrow was pouring out of my eyes.

I thought that if she had heard my voice one last time, she wouldn't have had to die alone. The only hope I had was that she knew she was loved.

I was in such a terrible state that despite the physical exhaustion, the emotional pain brought by grief kept me from falling asleep for more time than what was left of my sanity could bear. In other words, I was caught in a vicious cycle.

I should probably anesthetize the insomnia. If pills don't succeed in defeating it, at least I will numb my senses and make me relax. It's all I am asking for, really.

The only thing I found effective was alcohol. For sure, a sip or two wouldn't hurt me more than it helped me forget my pain.

The sip quickly turned into gulps though. I found myself rethinking that latest statement. Especially when I hurried to the toilet to throw up. I wasn't sure if it was because of the alcohol or my current global state. Grief doubled with intense nostalgia was the worst poison that could ever infiltrate my veins.

Honestly, realizing she was gone made me drink so much of my tears that I would almost have expected ending up throwing up blocks of salt.

I crawled back to my bedroom miserably. After some time staring at the ceiling, sobbing at the thoughts of Helena both doing me good and torturing me, I heard a knock on my door and Mikey's soft voice through the wooden surface.

"Gerard? I know how hard it is. Trust me, I do; I'm living the same thing," he said. "But you've been locked up in the dark in your bedroom for two days now. You hardly ate anything and I'm really worried. Please, just open the door. I'm here for you."

I gritted my teeth. For some reason, his sweet speech was making me angry. I felt like every word he uttered was a lie, that all of it was an empty promise feeding me false hope.

"Gee," Mikey continued through the door since I hadn't budged to open to him. "You will get through it. It's all gonna be ok-"

"NO!" I suddenly exploded. "Don't you tell me that it's all gonna be okay ! I's not gonna be okay, Mikey ! I'm not fucking okay !"

My sadness had suddenly turned into anger. I was mad at the whole world. I was mad at the entities above us for taking Helena away from me.

A part of me felt bad for poor Mikey. I could imagine him on the other side of the door, being shouted at even though he was in as much pain as me right now. And still, he took the time to check up on me. I hated myself for being so contemptful of others, including the ones who wanted to help me.

"Can you just leave me alone, please?" I added softly in a broken voice. "Please. I'm sorry, I just... I just need time."

"Of course. I understand," Mikey said on the other side of the door. He was hurt. I had hurt him. I'm a terrible person.

I clutched my pillow tightly. My eyes were dry of all tears - I was probably dehydrated. I was about to let myself pass out when my phone vibrated. I opened my eyes.

I took my phone and read the message I had just received. It was an address sent by an unknown number. It rang a bell; it was the address of the nearest cemetery.

I knew who had sent that message, and I knew what it meant. It was just too obvious. I opened my windows and noticed it was barely noon despite the clouds covering the sun.

I took a deep breath, grabbed a coat and my phone, and I left the house to go to the cemetery.

______