a/n Trigger warning for selfharm, possible character death and just depressing shit in general. I've been working on this for about a year now. It's pretty long (in my eyes) (about 8k words so) which is why its posted alone, and not in my oneshot book so that people can decide whether they wanna read this or not and can take pauses from it and idk i have my reasons. Only the beginning is edited lol, its too late and im too lazy the take the last part. Maybe I'll do it in a few days.

ANYWAY:: hUge disclaimer: The plot and idea IS NOT MINE. This is a play called "backfish" that me and my theatre group did last March. BUT I really wanted to make this to share it with you guys. Which means I have translated everything to English, changed some of the lines, added description and context and subtext and everything nice, basically putting meat and flesh on an already built skeleton. If you've ever read a screenplay, you can imagine what I'm talking about. The whole screenplay is basically just lines. Basically I can get sued for this, but I'm crossing fingers that nobody rats on me and that everything will be fine :^^^^^)) ive so much anxiety about this for a year now. Shit what if they find out. What if they google the authors name and the tiTle fucK im fucked. i regret this so much. I'm leaving out the authors name because it'll probably show up if you google their name :^) IF YOU HAVE ANY ADVICE ABOUT COPYRIGHT AND SUCH PLEASE TELL ME OKAY I NEED HELP AHAHHhhah.. I'm probably going to jail for this, wish me luck.

"Backfish."

You are my sunshine,

My only sunshine.

You make me happy when skies are grey.

You'll never know dear,

How much I love you.

Please don't take my sunshine away.

People think they see you. They can think they've seen you, through their eyes.  Windows to the soul, my ass. You can't see inside someone's head, y'know? Because it's dark in there, so fucking dark.

I take nothing for granted anymore. You can't take anything for granted. That's how it goes, you see. That is how it fucking goes.

You can travel to new places, but people are always the same. They are all the same. Occasionally you find someone who's different.

We moved during summer break. Mom couldn't stand being called into more meetings by the school. Meetings about me. So we moved again.

And then something happened. It was just before fall-break. My mom was going to Greece with her newest boy-toy. I didn't feel like coming with them. I don't really like traveling. I just want to find a place that is- a place where it is possible to just be.

An already fully packed and stacked suitcase and handbag was placed on the floor, right in front of the entrance. My mom was in her bedroom looking for something. I don't know exactly what it was, neither did I care. Her phone started ringing, and I picked it up from her bag.

"Hello?" I sighed.

A deep, manly voice emitted out of the device, giving some instructions.

"Mom, it's for you! It's your new boyfriend."

"What does he want?" Mom's voice came from the bedroom.

"He wants to know if you're ready. He'll pick you up in a few minutes." I started shuffling into the living room, falling backwards onto the couch, telephone still in hand.

"Okay!" I can hear her footsteps getting closer.

I return to the person on the phone, "She says okay. Bye" I hang up before he can reply. Just a few seconds later I see her appear in the door separating the living room and the hallway, buttoning up her coat and checking her handbag. I shoot up again, slowly moving towards her.

"Passport, tickets, money..." she mutters to herself while looking through all her belongings.

"Mom?"

She doesn't answer.

"Mom?" I try again, slightly louder.

She looks up, sighs and raises an eyebrow, giving me a slightly annoyed glare. I hand her her phone and she takes it.

"When will you be back?" I lean against the wall, hands safely placed in the pockets of my jeans.

"I've told you a hundred times! The 16th." She turns around to the mirror, fixing her lipstick.

"Which means you'll be gone for..."

"Two weeks exactly," she places different necessities in the pockets of her coat, "you'll do fine, right?"

"Sure." The words stung, but I ignored it.

"Because you like it here, right? Seems like a great environment, a nice school. And such nice boys you've met too? I think they're really handsome. It's very important with friends, good friends."

She turns back to the mirror, clearly not happy with how her hair looks.

"Yeah, sure mom."

I reach into her bag and snatch her pack of Marlboros. I quickly hide them in my hoodie pocket as she turns around to face me.

"And then you make sure you don't get yourself into any trouble. You're working on your problem." She goes back to the small mirror over the commode, taking one final glance.

"Problem?" I snort.

Mom sighs for a second time, making eye contact with me in the mirror.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. Control."

I roll my eyes again, probably for the hundredth time that day, "yeah, sure."

"Good. Because I have no plans about moving already," she puts on her shoes with some struggle, "It will be so lovely to get away! Greece is such a beautiful country! You aren't sad that you're not coming with us? It's really important for us to get this trip, don't you understand?"

"Yeah, I get it. Robert's nice, I guess."

It's not like I've properly met him, or at least gotten to know him. He was over once. I had come home to a strange man in the middle of the kitchen, my mom had vanished to the bathroom the moment I stepped a foot in the door. He had scared the shit out of me. Giving me scary rapist-sex offender-vibes from him too, but I wasn't gonna to tell mom that. He'd basically been smelling me up as we shook hands, like a dog, introducing himself as "your mom's lover." No thank you, sir.

"Frank, how many times do I have to tell you, me and Robert were done over three months ago!"

"Sorry." I mumbled. Suddenly not trusting my own memory anymore. The guy in the kitchen said his name was Robert, right?

As she went over to her bag and suitcase, she continued: "Lars is completely different, a very romantic man. It'll be so wonderful getting away just for a little while, to tend for each other, care for each other. You'll understand when you grow up. If we don't do this now, I'm scared I'm going to lose him. And Frank, I don't want to lose him."

I lost it somewhere in the middle of her rambling, not paying attention to anything she was saying.

"Okay."

"What do you mean 'okay'? You'll let me have this, won't you?" Mom gave me a stern look.

"Of course." I didn't feel like saying much. I never did.

She broke out into a sudden, kind of forced grin, "And you have everything you need," she bent down to pick up her stuff, "Food in the fridge, money- oh I added 750 dollars to your bank account today, so you can buy yourself something nice while I'm gone."

I furrowed my eyebrows but still mumbled a small, "thanks."

A car horn was honked outside, startling my mom.

"I'm coming!" She yells, even though there is no way in hell Ro- Lars would be able to hear her.

Mom almost runs to the door, not giving me a hug or a kiss.

"Bye, mom!" I try yelling after her.

After some time she replies "Bye, sweetie!" as if she had forgotten she had a son for a second, already out the door.

-

Loud, angry music blasted through the whole house.

Control she says. "Control your feelings" blah-blah, "impulses", shut the fuck up. When all you see is almost like through a red screen, a red flicker. And your arm just flies out, your leg just kicks up. She has no-fucking-idea what she's talking about. She doesn't get how fucking awesome it is to stand there and know that you have it. Power, that's what control is. To put a mark upon someone. That's when you know you exist.

In the middle of my train of thought, I am interrupted by a buzzing noise beside my head. My phone. I take it.

"Hello? Oh, hi Evan, what's up? Okay, I'll be right there." We hang up, without saying goodbye or anything else.

Sometimes you have to take those friends you get. And when you're new somewhere, sometimes you'll just have to settle with what's left. Personally, I can manage without friends. I can deal with being completely alone. But when they come to you, and bug you so fucking much, when they call you all the time, you don't have any other choice but to stand up for them.

-

"Come on, let's go." I hear Rob telling Evan. I see them by the bus stop, just hanging around, waiting for me. They haven't spotted me yet, but I can hear them. You could say I'm hiding. I didn't intend to, I swear.

"No, we're waiting for Frank." Evan kicks him in the shin lightly.

"But he's a complete psycho, he has no control." Rob hisses, his fists waving vigorously around in his jacket's pockets.

"Exactly." Evan just grins.

That's when I decide to interrupt.

"Yo, guys!" I walk up to them, smiling and pretending I totally hadn't just heard everything they had said about me.

Rob looks startled, but he quickly recovers and smiles back, "Yo, Frank, didn't see you there."

"So... what's up?" I start kicking pebbles that litter the Jersey sidewalks.

"We're going get that fucking jock-dick, Bert." Evan grins wickedly, revenge clearly inscribed in his features.

Rob chuckles darkly, "Beat him up."

"Refurnish his ugly, stuck-up face." Evan jumps in, his tone dark.

I'm not exactly taken aback, as I'm used to this, "Okay, what did he do?"

Evan mock gasps and puts his hand on his chest, "What, you're saying you don't know?", I just shrug, looking expectantly up at them both.

Rob shakes his head, "He tried checking up Jamia."

I nodded slowly, not getting it, "And?" Jamia was Evan's sister.

"Yeah, and he looked at her." Rob sneers. And Rob definitely had a crush on Jamis

I stifle a laugh, "He looked at her? Jesus Christ, call the fucking cops."

Evan rolls his eyes, "Like this:" he send this really cheesy, seductive face, complete with a wink and all to Rob, "That fucking dick. I hate him so fucking much."

"He's ugly too, his face even looks like a dick."

There's a small pause, and I try really hard not to laugh as I imagine Bert with a dick as his face. Thanks for the mental image, Robin.

"You know, he was rude enough to call me a faggot." Evan says after a few awkward seconds of silence.

"What?!" both me and Rob say at the same time.

"Yeah, like- he didn't say it, but he was thinking it. I know he did." He checks the time on his phone.

"Fucking hell." Rob breathes out.

Evan puts his phone back, "And nobody thinks that about me. I'm going to crush that disgusting, smug face of his. Wanna join?" He directs the question towards me.

I shrug, "Okay."

We start walking, heading for the football court. Evan had checked earlier, and apparently the football team was having practice, and it would end really soon. Then Rob notices someone as we walk through the school gates, coming from our left side. It looked like a boy, carrying what looked like some kind of suitcase.

"No, look who we have here!"  Rob cooed, swaggering over to the boy. Evan followed after, stroking the strange guy's cheek, "Aw, Gerard, little, adorable Gerard. What do you have in your suitcase today?"

I watched as Evan and Rob continued to pet his hair, face while shoving him around. The boy looked extremely uncomfortable, as if he just wanted to sink through the muddy grass.

"Whaddya got?" Rob kept pushing.

"Come on, don't be shy, Gerard, tell us!" Evan grabbed the case right out of the poor boy, Gerard, 's hands. Evan secured the case tightly in his muscly arms, as if it was a trophy.

The boy mumbled something, but nobody caught it.

"Pardon?" Rob grinned his wicked smile again.

"M-My accordion." You could barely hear him, he was whispering, as if he was afraid he would crack his voice if he went any louder.

The boys giggled together at the answer.

"You play the accordion? Ha! He plays the accordion!" Rob mocked him, pushing him in a not-so-friendly matter, hard.

Evan pushed the accordion back into Gerard's chest, "Wow, that's soo cool! Play some for us then Gerard!" his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Play some!" Rob urged too.

I stepped forward, "Guys, let him be."

Evan looked at me in disbelief, "What?"

"I said, leave him the fuck alone."

He got all up in my face, chest to chest. He was taller than me, but I was stronger, "What?!" He yelled.

I pushed him away with all my force, making him fall straight to his butt. In my side view I barely catch the sight of Gerard hurrying away quickly.

As I'm holding him down, I pull out a pocket mirror from my jeans and shove it up Evan's face.

"Dude, cut it out!" He tries to shove me off, but I won't let him.

"What do you see, Evan, is it fucking ugly or is it fucking pretty?"

I grab his throat, squeezing it, before letting go. I scramble up and Evan jumps up soon after me, hurrying away, not offering me a single glance. Rob is running after him like a confused dog that just witnessed it's master being robbed.

-

You can travel to new places, but people are the same everywhere. They are always the same. Occasionally you find someone who's different. But then again, you're alone in life anyway, right? And if you're gonna have friends in the first place, it's nice that they don't stand too close to you, breathing all up in your face, staring into your eyes and wanting to know you so fucking well. Better than anyone has ever known you. Better than anyone has ever even bothered to know you. To see you, for exactly what you are... As if anyone can see that. That's not even what matters, because you can't see shit anyway.

His name is Gerard. It means strong, brave. Someone to carry your spears. Someone to carry your problems and burdens.

It was our music teacher who put us together in a group together, by the way. Him in a group with me. Excuse me?!

The school bell chimes down the hall. I see Gerard walking into the classroom, spotting me already sitting in the front row of the class, and then hurrying away to sit as far away from me as he can get. The other students are chattering as usual while I doodle on the front of my workbook. Not soon enough, the teacher finally arrives.

"We'll continue with our project. There are groups of three and three, just like last time. Oscar, you're with Marty and Iris. Omar, go with Johanna and Camilla. No, Evan and Rob! You're going where I put you in separate groups," as people found their groups and emerging to different, smaller rooms, the teacher looked over the remaining people, "I guess it's just you two left. Frank, were you here last time?"

"I don't remember." I reply dully, smacking my gum.

"Well then, I guess you and Gerard have to team up." The teacher scribbles down something in his book.

"What? I can't be on a group with him." I point at Gerard who is picking at the accordion case that is placed on his desk.

The teacher sighs and pushes up his glasses, "And why is that if I may ask?"

I try explaining with hand gestures and desperate sounds, signaling I'm struggling to find the right words, before I give up, "Because- ugh, whatever."

"Great, come on, we don't have all time in the world!"

After the teacher fled off to God knows where, I see Gerard slowly making his way over to me. He sits down right next to me, and I try with all my power not to stand up and walk away.

"T-thank you for stopping them, Frank," He stutters out, his voice still low, "It was really nice of you. They always bother me, I don't know why-"

I cut him off by turning away, blocking him from seeing my face, and I start doodling again. The classroom is completely quiet for a few moments, before I hear him pick up his accordion and making himself comfortable in the chair.

The teacher appears again, coming out of one of the group rooms, "Everything okay in here?"

I turn around to look at Gerard and the teacher. Gerard nods and starts playing on that stupid accordion.

"Could you stop that?" I hiss at him.

He just smiles, "What? You don't like music?"

I growl at Gerard, giving the teacher an exasperated look, "Hey, you teacher! Hellooo! I can I please be in another group?"

He doesn't answer and just walks out, and I get even more exasperated over the situation. Fucking hell I fucking hate school I fucking hate this class I fucking hate the teacher I fucking hate Gerard I fucking hate myself.

The teacher comes back for a second time, this time with a guitar in his hands. It was really pretty. I've always wanted a guitar but I couldn't be bothered to learn it. The teacher starts accompanying to whatever Gerard is playing.

When Gerard stops playing, we are both watching the teacher as he does some crazy guitar solo. We start laughing at him.

The teacher stops too, looking at the both of us, "This'll be great, guys! You might get an an A, a really strong one!"

Gerard's and my eyes meet and we laugh again. He has really nice eyes. The bell chimes again, interrupting our moment, signaling that class is over. He hurriedly packs the accordion back in its case, gets up and starts walking out.

I run after him. When I grab his shoulder, his whole body stiffens. "Dude, what direction do you walk home?"

"What?" He blinks at me with big eyes.

"No, just forget it."

-

I went home with him that day. I have no idea why, probably because he kept clinging on me so much. Anyways, I was at his place several times after that. He had this... Proper family, you know. Dinner 5:30pm every single day. Total terror regime. Everybody was there, his mother, his father and little brother. Even his grandma was there. They sat there talking, all the time, by the dinner table. Digging and asking did they too. "Where do you live, Frank?" "What does your mother work with?" "What does your father do?" How the hell am I supposed to know? Haven't seen that fucker in at least ten years.

They kept telling me I had to call home and tell them where I was. But there isn't anyone at home to pick up the phone.

I joined them on a walk into the woods too during autumn vacation. Mushroom trip. Oh my God. One time we stopped by a lake, red and yellow leaves mirroring themselves on the water surface. The sky unusually clear and blue. We sat there gazing out over the lake in complete tranquility. We sat there for a very long time. These people can't be all right in the head.

His grandma kept calling us 'backfish'. "What does that mean?" I asked. "Young teens" Gerard replied. Apparently it was something people said back in the old days about people who weren't like, fully adults. It's fish that are too small and who can't be used to anything, so they throw it back into the ocean. Worthless, unusable. Really weird calling people something like that. Backfish. Something is seriously wrong with you.

I was over at his house almost all the time. He was at my house too one night.

"Wow, your room is so nice!" Gerard says as we steps into my room. There are posters everywhere, but that's probably the only impressing part about my whole room. There's trash and dirty clothes littering the floor, you can barely see it.

"Yeah I've done it myself." I say.

I'm still standing by the door, and Gerard turns around to face me, "Done what?"

I grin and walk over to him, "Painted, built the shelves, put up the lamp." I point at the different things as I mention them.

"Wow." Is all he can say.

"You're the first one to see it." I walk over to the bed and throw myself on it. I look at the roof, where I have decided to keep going with my posters, as there is no space left on the walls.

"I am?" I hear Gerard's smile in his voice, as it gets a bit more high-pitched than usual. He gets closer before joining me on the bed, looking at the side of my face.

"Yeah, well, except my mom." I turn my head to look at him.

"Since you mention it, where is your mom?" He starts tracing patterns in my black sheets.

I look back up at the roof again, sighing, "In Greece."

"What about your dad?" Gerard rises up, supporting himself on the elbows to get a better view of me.

"My dad?" I snort. Yeah, right.

"You're telling me you're completely alone at home with your mom fucking off to Greece?"

I shrug, "Meh, it's fine." I find the pack of cigarettes I have in my drawer, and light one up.

He pushes himself further up the bed and crosses his legs, almost towering over me.

"My parents would never leave me and Mikey all alone at home like that." His pitying face gets a small streak between his eyebrows as he furrows them even more. I don't want him to feel sorry for me. I'm totally okay.

"Not your parents, no."

Tranquility fills the room and Gerard studies the room yet another time. He suddenly gets up and walks over to my over-filled shelf. I get up to just sit on the bed instead of lying on it, and look at Gerard.

"This is so cool! Is it a monster?" He turns around, showing me what caught his eye.

It wasn't that good, just a big ball of ceramic goo that I somewhat made resemble a thing.

"Yeah, made it in art class."

"You did?" His eyes study it curiously. I don't get what's so great about it; he is much better than me at anything that has to do with art. He's so talented, while I can't do shit. All I'm good for is punching.

I get up and walk over to him, "Do you want it?" I grab the ceramic-monster and hand it to him.

He gasps, "Thank you so much!"

"You're welcome." I feel my lips twitch, suddenly getting a little sad.

When we have settled back on the bed I offer him my cigarette. He takes it hesitantly and slowly moves it to his lips. He looks over to me, and I nod to encourage him. He sucks on the end, but ends up choking and coughing violently on it and I can't help but to laugh.

I take the cigarette back, and a nice silence fills the room. I'm about to suggest we watch a movie or something like that when he starts talking.

"What do you want to be when you're all grown up?" The question surprises me.

"I don't know." I lie. I know what I want to be. Dead. I put out the cigarette and let it rest in the ashtray beside my bed.

Gerard giggles, "an artist?"

That makes me laugh. If any out of the two of us, he is the artist, "No way!"

Gerard takes my hand, and starts rubbing it. It feels good.

"You can be what ever you want. At least that's what my grandmother says."

"You grandma?" I roll my eyes; trying to ignore the feeling Gerard holding my hand gives me.

He nods, not looking at me, only focusing on our hands, "Yeah. You can't just stop believing in yourself. That's all you've got, right?"

I drag my hand away from his, shifting my gaze to the sheets instead of his piercing eyes. I feel like his eyes are claws and teeth, ripping off my skin, exposing my flesh, and seeing everything dirty and disgusting about me, everything that's hiding underneath my thin, pale skin. I don't like it.

"I know that." I bark at him, but he just keeps going.

"You can have that huge family, all those friends, but the only thing you can direct, is yourself. That's the only thing you can control"

I push myself away, leaning against the wall.

"You can control more than that." I try.

Gerard crawls over to me, trapping me between the wall and his body.

"Not really." He mumbles.

"That's not much."

He looks at me with wide eyes, waving his hands dismissingly, "It's a whole lot! Just think about what one person can do. Think about what one person can accomplish." He stops up, trying to calm his rambling; "you can't just believe you're nothing, even if people try pushing you down all the time, because then you can just lay down and die right away."

He grabs my hand again, and this time I don't pull away, "Frank, you are something, you know that right?"

"I know that!" I huff.

He smiles warmly at me, "No one is quite like that."

"Like what?" I ask.

"Like you. You have something. Something special."

I shake my head at his words, "stop it!" I mumble awkwardly, trying to laugh it off.

He shakes my hand eagerly, "I mean it, Frank. First of, you're handsome-"

I just dismiss it with a huff, but he keeps going, "And you... You're strong, and smart and... All that stuff." He stops up, and I notice how close his face is to mine, "And then... You're the opposite."

I catch a glimpse of him flickering his eyes to my lips and then back to my eyes. His look is intense, and I can't pull myself away from his piercing eyes.

"The opposite?" I can't help but question.

"Yes. I see it," His other hand cups my cheek and his face is moving closer mine, I notice his eyes flickering down to me lips, "You are-"

"Fucking hell Gerard! Stop that." I swat his hand away, suddenly angry, and he lets go of my own hand and awkwardly crawls back, so that we're sitting on each side of the bed.

For probably the hundredth time that day, there is a long silence, but this one isn't comfortable, it's awkward and it makes me want to go hide and die in a hole. Why did he touch me like that? And did I like it?

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" I ask, just to fill the cold void surrounding us.

Gerard shrugs, mostly focused on biting his nails, "A musician, I think."

"You're good at playing" Everything feels so fake right now. We're both ignoring what just happened, like if it never occurred.

"Thanks" is all he says back.

I decide to put what just happened behind us, and say something that I have been thinking about a lot lately, "But you gotta stop dragging around on that accordion wherever you go. They'll never stop picking on you as long as you've got that with you," Gerard doesn't answer, so I change the subject "Have you ever tried make-up?"

He finally looks at me, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth, "Yeah... A few times."

I grin, "I bet you'll suit black eye-liner. You'd probably look like someone from Green Day or Misfits or something."

I jump up and run to the bathroom to get my mom's eyeliner, and quickly retreating to the bed.

"Okay, close your eyes." I demand and he obeys. I keep working on both of his eyes, giving him instructions as I go.

When I'm done I sit back with a content sigh, admiring my creation, "Open up," I fish in my jeans for my pocket mirror and hold it up for Gerard to see, "See, I knew you'd suit it."

While he studies himself in the mirror, my phone goes off in my pocket. I pick it up and read the name on the screen, "Shit." I mutter.

"What?" Gerard stretches to see the screen of my phone.

"It's Evan. That guy is always bothering me; I swear to God." I stare at the screen, not knowing what to do.

"Then don't answer." Gerard says, as if it was that easy.

I shake my head, "No, he'll just call me a second time to ask why the fuck I didn't pick up. He won't fucking give up until I answer." The phone doesn't stop, and I'm starting to stress.

"Tell him you're out of town."

I think about it for a second before hitting 'answer'. "Yo, Evan!"

There is a little pause, and I start wondering if he had given up or butt-called me, "Frankie boy!" well fuck, "We haven't seen you in like forever! Okay, so me and Rob are gonna-"

"I-I'm sorry Rob, I can't come over right now. I'm not in NJ I...-" I look over at Gerard for help.

"Say you're in California!" he whisper-yells, so that Evan won't hear him.

"Ye-yeah, I'm in... California. Mhm, I'm standing outside now looking up at that Hollywood sign. It's really rad here, though the sign's a bit smaller in reality. Ok, I gotta hang up, tell Rob I said hi. Bye!"

Evan barely gets the chance to say goodbye before I hang up. Gerard and I look at each other before we burst out laughing. Then I get a brilliant idea.

"Dude, let's send them a message!"

Gerard gets an excited twinkle in his eyes, "okay," He hands me his own phone, "use this one, I have a prepaid card."

I grab it and open the SMS application, "What should we write?"

Gerard thinks for a while before shrugging, "It was your idea, come up with something. I mean, you're the creative one out of us."

I look back at his phone I'm holding. I start reading out loud for him to hear while writing, "ive fckd jams nd it was so fckn good. ur so fckn ugly. hope ur face curls 2gther nd falls off. ur best regards, just fucked"

He gapes at me, "Oh, damn."

I hit send and smirks at his expression.

"Why are you even friends with them?" He asks as I hand him his phone back.

I shrug, "You've gotta be friends with someone. By the way, they're the ones clinging on to me. You know, wanna have me in on fights and stuff. 'Cause I'm good at hitting. Hitting hard."

Gerard raises an eyebrow and pouts his lips, but he doesn't say anything, so I continue.

"I knew this guy. I rearranged his whole face. Broke his nose, gave him a black eye on both eyes. He was like a fucking painting, red, yellow, green and purple; the whole fucking rainbow in his face."

"Do you think it's cool or something?"

I laugh, "What?"

"It sounds like you're proud of it somehow."

"Naaah." I drag out, not really sure what to answer.

"Then why do you do it?" He looks really concerned.

"Because... It's better to pounce someone than to wait for them to do it to you, right? And it was one of those situations, clearly."

I decide to get up and put on a CD. As I study my CD collection, Gerard asks me, "How do you know?"

I don't look at him, too focused on flicking through the many records, "You can never know, can you? You can never know for sure. What people are thinking, you know." I pull out an Against Me! CD and walk over to the stereo, "What's hiding inside them, inside their dark fucking minds."

The record starts playing and I walk back to the bed, sitting back down besides Gerard.

"You're scared." He says very quietly.

"There's a lot to be scared of! It's not that many fucking things you can be completely sure about."

Gerard shrugs, "Seriously, it doesn't get any safer by going around hitting people."

I playfully hit his arm with my fist, "You don't have to be afraid, I'm not going to hit you, you know that!"

We laugh together, but I quickly give him a serious look, "I mean it. I'm never going to hit you. Never ever."

He nods while looking at his feet, a small smile tugging on his lips, "Yeah, I understand."

We are yet again covered in silence except from the music still playing. But it has by now transformed into this background static, and I stopped paying attention to the song a long time ago.

"Hey, Gerard, what does your name mean?" I poke his thigh with my toe.

"Strong." I replies without a second thought.

"Seriously?" I chuckle.

He nods, "Yah. And also brave spear-wearer." Gerard sighs, rolling his eyes, "Eyes are windows to the soul," He says randomly, catching me off-guard, "You have pretty eyes, Frank."

"Noo..." I groan.

"You do. Very pretty."

We stare at each other for what feels like hours, "You wanna sleep over?" I ask him, suddenly nervous.

Gerard grins, "Sure! I just have to call home first."

-

It's black and cold and wet and dark. There are eyes everywhere, bleeding, crying. Like a lobotomy orgy. Everything hurts. Someone is gauging my eyes out with a knife and I'm screaming for my life. It's like if someone slit my throat and pulled out my vocal cords.

My whole world starts shaking and I can hear someone else yelling. Shaking. Yelling.

"Frank? Frank!"

I wake up with an ice-cold scream, "No!" I heave for breath, desperately trying to get some air down in my lungs.

"What is it?" Someone asks.

"Who's there?" I realize I'm crying. Someone is holding me.

"Frank, there's no one here! It's just us."

I realize that it's Gerard, and he lets go of me as I keep shaking, sitting up.

"Calm down, Frank, there isn't anyone here."

I try to relax, collecting my thoughts and my body, sighing, "Sorry, Gerard. I'm a little afraid of the dark, you see."

Gerard chuckles sadly, "a little?!"

"I don't sleep that well at night. I don't like sleeping alone, because I always get these horrible nightmares almost every night. Really creepy. I'm- I'm really glad you're... That you're here."

The room is dark, but I can still see some of his features, because the curtains aren't drawn.

"Okay?" It doesn't really seem like he knows what to say.

"And then... I think it's really nice when you compliment me, like- when you give me compliments. Even though I act like I don't give a shit."

I feel him moving closer, and my night vision starts kicking in so that I can see him better.

"I know how you feel." He whispers

"You do?" I look up at him, smiling.

"Yes." He nods.

I chuckle, "Oh, Gerard, I think you... You're the best fucking friend I've ever had!"

He starts smiling along with me when his eyes drift down to my arm fully on display.

"What's that?" He asks, voice squeaking.

"What?" I ask confused.

He points to my left arm, "That."

I start panicking, but only slightly; it feels like as if someone just kicked me in the stomach.

"Let me show you something." I turn around and lift up my pillow, pulling a razor blade out of the pillowcase.

I retreat; showing him the blade, letting it shine in the light that has made it's way into the room.

"Wh-What do you use that for?" Gerard looks scared.

"Self-defense." I reply sternly.

"Self-defense? Against whom?"

I shrug, "You never know who can come out of the dark. What could come. There could always come someone you know."

Gerard shakes his head, eyes wide, as if he can't believe it, "Who?"

"Something." I say shortly.

"Have you ever used it?" He looks fucking terrified, but I don't notice, too busy studying the blade between my fingers.

"No. Only here." I point to my arm, then proceeding to let the blade glide over my skin, not letting it break through.

"What?" Gerard whispered desperately, not believing his own eyes and ears, "Frank, stop!" He tried, stretching out an arm as if that would help.

I just snorted, "It doesn't hurt that bad."

"No! Don't do that!" He tried in vain again, eyes brimming with tears threatening to fall. He was staring on the scars on my arm. There was both old and new there.

I had stopped playing with the blade by now, just letting it rest in my hand, but the arm was still on display, "It doesn't hurt at all. Actually, it makes everything better. Good. Lighter, ya know? You get really tightened up by it, clear in the head." I exasperated with hand motions, "Everything goes down there you see?" He pointed to his arm yet again, "You should try it!"

Gerard looked absolutely mortified, as if he thought this was some sick nightmare, "What?!"

"Look, it's not dangerous, I'll help you." I tried to grab Gerard's hand, put it only resulted in Gerard shuffling away from me.

"NO!" Gerard had started crying by this point, shaking.

"Everything gets so much easier, it's true! Light, like flying." Now it was my turn to get desperate, why couldn't Gerard just understand? "Let's do it together then. Now." And before anyone could blink, I had made a cut on my wrist. It wasn't anything major, but it definitely made Gerard completely freak out.

"Frank stop!" He jumped up and stepped back.

"I can do it for you if you don't wanna. I've got control, I know exactly how deep I can cut- We could mix our blood! We can be blood-brothers! You and me..." I got up too, and stepped towards Gerard, razorblade still in hand.

"No-" Gerard walks backwards towards the door, still facing me.

I noticed this, and immediately furrowed my eyebrows, "Where are you going?"

"Home."

"You can't go home now!" Now it was my turn to cry.

Gerard just shook his head furiously, "No, I'm going home. I have to!"

Gerard is about to turn around and sprint out the door, but I already knew what he was planning to do, and stepped in front of the door.

"You are fucking staying here!" I am angry, I am so so angry. By this point Gerard is sobbing.

"Let me out, let me out!" He cries pleadingly, "Please Frank, let me go. Let me out!" Gerard is hammering on my chest with tight fists, snot and tears running down his face. It should probably hurt, but I didn't even notice his hits.

Eventually, I stepped away from the door and let Gerard through.

The house feels empty.

_

The next day, mom comes home.

"Hello-o, I'm ho-ome!" She yells through the house. When I walk down the stairs my mom is taking off her coat. The moment she sees me she walks over and hugs me.

"Hello, darling." She smells like vanilla, smoke and peppermint gum.

"Hi, mom." I sigh, trying to not sound so empty. It's hard.

Mom turns her back to me and starts taking off her shoes, "Oh it's been so wonderful, you have no idea! Greece is amazing." She started opening up her suitcase, "Of course, me and Lars broke up almost right away, I mean, what do you expect? But whatever."

I tried to tune her out, but her annoying voice somehow found its way through my almost fool-proof barrier. She had by now moved into the kitchen and I followed after, sitting down by the table.

"But then I met this Greek guy. You should have seen the look on Lars's face! He was soo jealous. Jealous men are totally unattractive." Mom made a pause in her monologue to open the fridge. She inspected the disappointing contents. I haven't exactly gone all house-wife while she was gone.

"His name is Panos, like a demigod. With a broad chest, you know. Lots oh hair- Oh Jesus!" She pretended to faint. I gagged, "A proper savage. I've been bedridden for 2 weeks now- 2 weeks, Frank! Oh my God..."

I really didn't want to know about my mother's sleeping habits, but this wasn't necessarily a rare topic in the house.

Mom was sitting by the table now too, gazing dreamily out the window, "He really knew how to make a woman- oh I'm so sorry" She looked back at me, as if she remembered that I existed too, "And how have you been? I knew you'd be fine, this is such a nice place."

I sighed, looking down at the table, "Yeah mom, about that..."

For a second, mom seemed distracted, as if she had ran off to dream-land again, before she focused, "Huh, yeah what?"

"The guy I made friends with... Gerard-" I'm interrupted by mom turning to one of the plastic bags, stretching her hand inside. "Duty Free" the bag says. She pulls out a box of cigarettes and hands them to me.

"Here you go, sweetie." She smiled.

"Thanks." I muttered back.

"Now, was there anything you wanted to tell me? I'd love to listen to you. Nothing bad has happened, right?"

I shook my head, "No, of course not." I tried to pull off a smile to reassure her, but it felt so fake, it made my face ache.

Albeit, it seemed to fool my mom, "Great. Ok so, listen Frank. I've been thinking... I have to talk to you about something important, and please don't interrupt me." She stopped to take a deep breath, and I was starting to get worried, "You're all grown up now, you're not a little boy anymore."

Mom took yet another pause, this time to pinch the bridge of her nose, "To get to the point, stuff hasn't been super great for you lately, and you don't seem to relate that easily to my new boyfriends."

I was starting to get worried, but she just dug her hand into her back pocket to fish out a cigarette from her own packet, "But, I thought, since you're so big now," she lit the cigarette, "That maybe you could move out."

I was in shock. What the actual fuck? This has got to be a joke.

"Panos is coming to Jersey, and he's gonna move in with me, and I- I honestly think that you, with your... issues that... It'll be the best for you Frank!" She waved her free hand around, the other holding the smoke that she occasionally sucked on in-between the pauses.

"But I'm only 15, for fucks sake!" I jumped up from my chair with such force that the chair bumped right into the wall, making a huge bang.

But mom only rolled her eyes, taking another drag. She hadn't even bothered to open a fucking window.

"You gotta learn to take some responsibility, ya know. Take control over your own life! You're old enough to do that now."

Growing desperate and frantic I yelled, "But I'm not old enough, not yet!" My head hurt, and my nose and eyes were stinging. This couldn't be happening, I was being thrown out.

"Frank, you'll be alright." Mom didn't seem worried at all, just sucking on her stupid fucking cigarette.

"I'm just a backfish, mom! A fucking backfish!"

-

There was only one place I knew where to go, where I know where to get help and understanding.

"Hey." Gerard said when he opened the door and saw me.

"Hi, Gerard, how are you?" I grin. Just seeing him suddenly made everything better. It was strange. I've never felt like that before.

"Good. Great." He sighed, seeming slightly uncomfortable. His eyes were shifty.

I give him a smile, "I've been trying to call you, like, all weekend." I try to step closer, but that only makes the door opening decrease slightly. Gerard doesn't answer, and my smile drops.

"I'm really sorry about what happened that night- that I went all..." I tried to explain with hand motions since I didn't find the right words.

Gerard just sighed, again, "It's fine." He finally met my gaze, his eyes were cold.

I let out a relieved breath, "Great! I didn't mean to scare you."

Yet again, he didn't answer, just stared at me with his cold eyes, "Do you... I don't know, do you wanna go to the movies with me?" I tried to make something up so that he would stop acting so hostile towards me.

"Sorry, can't" His voice was dull and monotone. It scared me.

"Why not?" I whined.

"Got a lot of stuff to do." Gerard shifted on his foot, as if he wanted to close the door and go back inside. The motion caused me to notice something inside the hallway.

"Is that suitcases and cardboard boxes? Are you going on a holiday?" Going on a holiday right after fall break, and the day before a school day seemed pretty odd to me.

"No I- We.... We're moving."

"You're what?" I didn't believe my own ears.

"My dad got a job... In California!"

I was stunned, just standing there, gawping at Gerard, "You're moving to Cali?!"

Gerard seemed even more uncomfortable now, shifting his weight from foot to foot, "Yeah, mom thought it was best if I got an environment change, I guess."

"Environment change?" I cried in disbelief.

"Yeah, the environment here isn't the best here, so-"

"And why the fuck haven't you told me before?!" I didn't let him finish.

Gerard couldn't look in my eyes anymore, and had now decided that his feet very extremely interesting, "Like, I was gonna tell you, but I haven't know for that long..."

I took a sharp breath, my cocky attitude suddenly coming back, "Yeah, and when are you leaving?" I raised an eyebrow at him.

"Dad left yesterday, and we're coming after him, we just have to finish packing first and talk to the tenants and stuff," Gerard stopped for a few seconds, thinking, "You know, that monster you made..."

He turns around to grab something I can't see. When he faces me again, the ceramic figure is in his hands, "Here, it's too heavy to bring, and it's hard to pack."

Staring at the figure, I yell "You can't leave! You can't" Tears are threatening to spill.

"Look, we can still keep in touch." He tried

"Fuck you." I spat at him. Fuck him and fuck California and fuck his stupid family. I turned around to walk off the porch and away,

"We can write letters! Or send e-mail!"

I started walking faster, hand in pockets. I turn my head around for the last time to yell, "Fuck you Gerard! Fuck you!"

-

It's almost like a dream sequence. Flashing lights, screams. Then something substantive. I blade. Reflecting in the moonlight.

"Nobody cares about you!" A voice yells.

"Gerard left you and your mother doesn't love you." Another voice.

"You're pathetic!" Then there is a third one.

"Nobody even likes you!"

"You'll never be able to take control!"

"You're nothing!"

"Your mom is throwing you out,"

"She's sick of your pathetic face!"

"Waste of skin, waste of space."

The voices are piling up, slowly creating this kind of mantra, never stopping, always chanting. There is no way out.

The first cut is small, daring.

The second one is more drastic. Every time there is a new voice, there is a new cut. After a while, the voices are too constant, too messy, too many, and it gets out of hand. My arms, my legs, my whole body. It's shredded. How I haven't passed out yet is a mystery, even to me. I scream before collapsing in the shower. The water is still running.

-

"Oh hello, isn't it little pretty boy." Evan cooed to Gerard.

"G'day, Gerard." Rob giggled.

"Um, hi." Gerard didn't know what to do. He was always so helpless when it came to bullies, didn't know how to stand up for himself.

Evan leans an arm over Gerard's shoulder, letting his disgusting breath fan over Gerard's face, "How's your day been?"

"Even been to-" Gerard tries, but stops when he notices that Evan is pulling out his flip phone, playing with it.

Rob breaks Gerard's comfort zone, "Where's your accordion at? Accordionpussy hasn't got his accordion with him, ha!"

"Too bad." Evan smirks as Gerard's phone starts ringing, "You should really take that phone."

Gerard looks over at Evan's phone, recognizing his own phone number displayed on the screen. Oh shit. The message Frank sent.

"Oh." Is all Gerard can say as he with trembling hands fishes out his own phone.

When he answers the phone, all he can do is stare up at Evan with huge eyes, begging.

"We're gonna fucking get you! We're gonna get you soo fucking good!" Evan yells into the flip phone, the loud voice cutting Gerard's right ear.

"No!" Gerard screams, knowing that nothing can save him now. He's dead meat.

Rob and Evan starting pounding on Gerard, kicking and hitting, not holding back at all. It's when it starts to get bloody, that I suddenly show up.

"Leave him the fuck alone." I hiss at the two boys holding Gerard down. Nobody gets to touch him. Nobody but me.

The moment they lay their eyes on me, they stop, noticing how fuming I am. Smoke is almost pushing out my ears. My blood is boiling and my head is raging.

When Evan and Rob has fucked off, Gerard slowly starts to get up.

"Oh God, Frank, thank you so much!"

"Didn't I tell you to stop dragging that accordion around fucking every where?" I ignore his thank you, and just stand there with hostile eyes as he gets up.

Gerard cocks his head, "I'm not even carrying my accordion with me."

"Traveling soon or what? Done packing?" I inspect my nails, digging out dirt and blood.

He walks over to me, "Yeah, soon. Do you want my address?" Gerard sends me a warm smile, almost as if he's happy to see me.

I punch him right in the stomach, making him hunch over right in front of me, "You can't just lie there and take it, you know. And run off. You can't just betray." I kick him in the stomach while he's still in the bliss of shock. This time Gerard falls to the ground, looking pathetic and weak as he's trying to understand what's happening.

I pounce on him, holding him down as I'm beating him, "You thought I was nothing. Eyes of the soul my ass, you haven't seen shit! I am the one in control. I am the one who's got it. If you remember something, anything at all, you remember me. Now you know who I am, now you know what I'm about, what I mean. Gerard, I'm putting my mark upon you."

Gerard doesn't notice me pulling the blade out of the pocket of my hoodie, doesn't notice as I bring it to his body. He notices when I slice his skin. Repeatedly.

I am the one in control.

You are my sunshine,

My only sunshine.

You make me happy when skies are grey.

You'll never know dear,

How much I love you.

Please don't take my sunshine away.