I woke up on the couch, a slight smile on my face as I recalled all the events from yesterday. I seriously thought my only friend would leave me when they found out about my condition. I thought it'd scare him off, but yet he's still here. I do hate the fact that now he'll be worried about me constantly. I kissed him though, which was different. I haven't really kissed anyone since before the diagnosis. 

I sat up and looked around the living room. Gerard laid on the ground in a pile of blankets, snoring quietly. It's cute to me, really. It sort of felt wrong to think about Gerard like that. It's not that I have a problem with bisexual or gay people or anything, it's just that I feel like I'm getting too close. I'm usually scared of getting close. I don't want to get close, it just leaves people disappointment. When I go, it's like I'll fail them. 

I managed to push the thoughts out of my head as I got up and went into the kitchen, picking up the phone and dialing the familiar number once more. When I heard her happy voice on the answering machine, it hit me. I had just tried to call my deceased mother. For once, I forgot she's gone, I'll never see her again. I felt the urge to cry, but that's not like me. So I just didn't. 

"Good morning, Frankie." Gerard said in his groggy tired voice. It turned me on oddly enough. 

"Morning Gee." I said without thinking. I didn't even notice what I called him until a smile spread out across his face. "What?" I asked. 

"You called me Gee." He chuckled lightly. I felt the heat rise to my cheeks, usually I'm not the soft sort of person, but I guess I am around Gerard. 

"Oops. Sorry." I looked down. 

"Don't be, I like it.....Frankie." He smiled again. I just stared at him, wondering how he could just be so easy going like that. Sometimes I wish I was that easy going. 

"What are you thinking?" He asked, making himself his usual cup of coffee. 

"Nothing..It's nothing." I shook my head and sat at the bar. 

"You know you can tell me anything right?" He looked up from his cup and met my eyes. 

"Yeah, but it's just... Complicated. It's not easy for me to tell people what I'm thinking." I answered, 

"Did you take your pills, Frankie?" He changed the subject, and for that I was thankful. 

I hung my head a little and looked up as he gave me a stern look and pointed towards the bathroom. I got up and made my way into the bathroom with Gerard following closely behind. I got the pills out of the container. I popped them into my mouth and took Gerard's coffee from his hands and took a sip and swallowed the round pills. I took another sip of his coffee just for the hell of it and handed it back. He looked at me like I had just crushed his soul. 

 "You drank my coffee." he pouted. 

"There's still some left in there." I chuckled at him. He sure was addicted to Coffee. I can't blame him, it is pretty good. 

"But what..What if you poisoned it?" I knew he was only joking, but I had the urge to make some sort of smart remark back at him. So I did like any sane person would. But there's a difference between a sane person and me. I'm the opposite of sane. 

"Yeah, I poisoned it with my horrible lips and my cancer." I gave him a slight smile. 

"I didn't mean it like that." He mumbled and looked down. 

"I know. It's just cancer humor." I reassured him. 

"Can we not talk about this?" He pleaded. 

"What? Cancer? Why?" I asked, generally confused as to why talking about cancer upset him. 

He shrugged. "Just don't feel like it." He said simply. I wasn't completely satisfied with his answer, but I didn't want to push my only friend away by pushing him to talk about it. I mean, if we are even friends. I haven't really questioned our friendship yet. I know being friends with people and getting close to them is just dangerous, but I couldn't help it. I was so alone and foolish. Though I would never admit that to someone, no one would understand. No one understands me now, and no one probably will. 

I walked out into the living room with Gerard. "Gerard, can I ask you a question?" I looked at him as he took a sip of his still steaming coffee. I was surprised he even dared to drink after a disastrous boy with cancer touched the cup. Anyone else would have thrown the cup away after I touched it. Not because of the cancer of course, only few people know about my condition. But because I was the freak, if I touched something no one else would touch it, because they were afraid to catch what they called, 'the freak disease.' 

"What happened to Gee?" He asked with his right eyebrow slightly raised higher than the other. 

I shrugged. "Can I still ask you that question?" I basically repeated myself. 

"Sure, go ahead." He said like it was obvious that I could ask him anything in the world. 

"Why do you insist on watching over me?" I whispered. Gerard looked at me, then his lap, then his gaze shifted to the, now empty, coffee cup in his hand, to the blank tv, anywhere but my face. 

"I uh...Maybe I'll tell you some day, okay Frankie?" He finally looked up at me with a small smile. 

"Okay. But promise it'll be before I die?" I asked. 

"You won't die Frankie. I uh, I gotta go, need something from my house. I'll be right back." He sounded like he was choking on air. For some odd reason I was concerned. Why was he acting so weird? But then again, why am I taking an interest in some random guy I met a park not too long ago? I still barely know anything about Gerard, besides the fact that he likes drawing, which he never shows me his art, and coffee. Not to mention his strange urge to watch out after me. I know I'm younger than him, but I'm capable of taking care of myself. Right? 

I was chewing on my lip and sitting on the couch, deep in thought. If I wasn't already practically insane then my thoughts would be driving me insane at this very moment. But like I said, I am practically already insane. Like the highest point of insane with how much I think and the thoughts that run through my mind constantly. Sometimes without realizing it I just stare at something when I think. Also I think uncontrollably and it's like I'm babbling to myself in my own head and it-----

"That's bad for you." Gerard said, now standing in the doorway. When he noticed I was clueless to what he was talking about, he continued. "Chewing on your lips Frankie. I told you that before, silly." He chuckled and walked over to me. I didn't bother letting my lip go away from my teeth.

Gerard sat down and front of me and slowly lifted his hand to my face. He took his index finger and moved my lip away from my teeth's grasp. I swallowed air, as I was getting nervous for some reason. 

"My lips are already bad, silly." I said back. 

"Here." He handed me a tube of cherry chapstick. I chuckled and shook my head. "What am I? A girl now?" I asked. 

"Hey, I use that chapstick." He chuckled back. I made this disgusted face, jokingly of course. "Just put it on you dork." He rolled his eyes. I obeyed what he said as I popped the cap off the tube and rubbed the stick of red chaptstick on my lips until they were covered in the chapstick. 

"Keep using that and your lips won't be chapped. But you have great lips anyways." He smiled, trying to persuade me about my own lips quality. 

"Why are you so into lips?" I asked. 

"Oh, I'm not. It's just that I don't like when people bite their lips. It makes them bleed and all puffy like." He shrugged and sat next to me. I nodded my head, I was slowly learning more about Gerard the more we hang out. 

"So what did you need from your house?" I remembered that he had left because he said he needed something. I also realized he didn't sound like he was choking on air anymore and his facial expression had changed since he left. 

"Oh, this." He said holding up a book. It was a sketch book to be more exact. 

"Are you finally gonna show me some of your work?" I asked excitedly. 

"Nope. This is a clean sketchbook for when I'm at your house and want to draw. You can only see what I draw in this sketchbook." He explained. 

"Why though? What's different about it?" I asked. I was never one to be a good artist, so I knew nothing about art. 

"Well, my other art isn't uhm...Exactly appropriate or presentable. But I promise you'll see it one day." He held out his pinkie and I blew out a breath of air, like when you want to chuckle or laugh but it's not funny enough to make a full chuckling sound so you just end up exhaling through your nose loudly. I took his pinkie with mine and wrapped them both together. "Okay." I smiled, a little satisfied with that answer. 

"Draw me something now though." I demanded. But it didn't sound rude, I can't even imagine being rude to Gerard, he's too sweet to be rude to. 

"Okay, face me." He said. I did as I was told. He touched the tip of his art pencil to his paper and soon his hand started moving some-what slowly. I was anxious to see what it was he was drawing. I also didn't like the thought of him having to stare at me to draw. It scared me. It scares me when people stare at me normally. But something about something on me or part of me being stared at and transferred onto paper with a pencil was even scarier. 

"You look scared. Don't be." Gerard pointed out. I was baffled.

"How did you--?" I didn't even have to finish my sentence. 

"I'm a little good at picking up emotions and expressions, Frankie. Remember?" He reminded me. I thought for a minute. I did remember, it was when we met at the park. He was the one who started talking to me, because he picked up that I was disgusted by that guy smoking next to a little kid, and that everyone else was wasting their time. It was weird how he actually agreed with me on that. I was surprised really. I still sort of am.

"Done." Gerard announced after like 5 minutes. He flipped the sketchbook around so I could see what he drew. 

My jaw practically hit the floor. He was so good at drawing. He had drawn my eyes and lips. They were perfectly proportioned. I'm pretty sure he made my lips and eyes look a million times better than they actually were. Because if I were too look into the mirror, I wouldn't like what I would see. I would see chapped lips, black exhaustion bags under my eyes, the dull and unenlightened color of my eyes, and my dangerously pale face. In other words, I would look like a new addition to the Zombie Apocalypse. 

"Do you like it?" He asked. 

"Gee, I love it! You're so good at drawing! You actually made my features look pretty and non disgustingly related to a zombie." I smiled, a real smile at that. 

"You don't look like a zombie. You're beautiful, Frankie." He hugged me gently and pulled back. 

"By the way, I like it when you call me Gee." He smiled. 

"Why?" I asked. 

"Because it's different." He shrugged. 

Different? Now that I think about it, I never really given anyone a nick-name before. Was I changing my ways? If I was, that was scary as hell because I never did that before. How do you stop trying to change? 

I think I'm literally losing my sanity. Because every time I was near Gerard I got this weird feeling. Like someone is punching me in the gut, stealing the air out of my lungs, and making me forget my words. Not to mention how much my hands sweat. 

Was I falling in love? That's what people do when they fall in love right? I'm scared of that.. I can't love Gerard as anything more except for a friend. 

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1. I'm scared of the thought that people don't take time to realize what they have

2. I'm scared of the thought of swallowing a simple pill.

3. I'm scared of the thought of someone giving me pity

4. I'm scared of the thought that one day, someone will know exactly what I'm thinking.

5. I'm scared of the thought, that I don't know what to think. 

6.I'm scared of the thought of  people reading my mind off of how I act or look. (Just like Gerard)

7. I'm scared to be alone. 

8. I'm scared of the dizzy and noxious feeling I get. 

9. I'm scared of telling people personal things about myself. 

10. I'm scared of eating in front of people. They'll judge me. 

11. I'm scared of death.

12. I'm scared of Mrs.Rodgers.

13. I'm scared to tell Gerard about my condition. 

14. I'm scared about my mom not being here.

15. I'm scared at how much I'm opening up to Gerard.

 16. I'm scared of the day Gerard finds out about my condition.

17. I'm scared of the feeling and emotion Gerard holds in himself. 

18. I'm scared because I might not live to see one day.

19. I'm scared of the thought of liking a routine. 

20. I'm scared of telling someone I love them. If they aren't my mom, that is.

21. I'm scared of someone being payed to care. 

22. I'm scared of false hope. 

23. Yet again, I'M SCARED OF DEATH.

24. I'm scared of people staring at me. 

25. I'm scared of falling in love with someone. 

26. I'm scared of a part of me, or myself being drawn. 

27. My own reflection scares me. I look like a zombie.