*trigger warning*

I awoke at four in the morning with a jolt, my heart was racing and I felt sick - not physically, but mentally. My dreams had been filled with dark thoughts and hateful voices; it felt like my mind was screaming at me, and as much as I tried to ignore it, I couldn't go back to sleep.

It was such a strange sensation, as if every nerve in my body was hypersensitive, and my brain was running at a thousand miles an hour. Every time I closed my eyes, the force of my thoughts intensified, and I felt as if I was going to have a panic attack.

This hasn't happened to me in a quite a while...not since Frank and I had gotten together, but it seemed even more powerful because of the long hiatus. This was why I used to drink myself into a stupor every evening, when I was wasted, my brain shut off, and I was able to sleep through the night without interruption.

After tossing and turning for a few more minutes, I abandoned any thought of sleep and slowly crept out of bed, being careful not to wake Frank. I needed to do something to shut my mind up...but what?

I had a barely touched bottle of vodka under my bed, but if I started drinking now, I wouldn't be able to stop, and I had to be up for school in a few hours - that left only one other option...the blade.

The reasonable voice in the back of my mind put up a feeble argument, but it was quickly silenced. I needed some sort of release before I went insane, and even though I knew I would regret it in a few hours, I couldn't resist the allure of silence.

My chest was tightening painfully, and I knew I was going to have a breakdown soon if I didn't do something.

On silent feet, I crept to the bathroom with a razor clutched in my sweaty palm. The house was quiet, everyone was still asleep, and I envied them the peace they found in their dreams, when I only seemed to find nightmares.

I didn't know why I felt this way, it was as if my mind was diseased, and it was doing its best to poison the rest of my body. I hated myself for it, but what could I do?

Even though my life was technically going well right now, I should have known that I was too fucked up to truly maintain happiness.

Locking the door behind me, I put down the lid of the toilet so I could use it as a chair. Now that I was alone, I tried to force myself to rethink what I was about to do, but the desire to cut only became stronger the longer I sat there, so I gave in to what my mind wanted me to do.

Deciding to ruin my thighs instead of my wrists so it wouldn't arouse as much suspicion, I removed my pajama bottoms and held the blade against my pale legs. I shouldn't be doing this...if Frank found out he would be so upset with me for not coming to him...but he didn't need me dumping all of my problems on him, especially not when he had so many of his own worries to deal with.

With everything he had going on in his life right now, the last thing he required was another stressor, and that's all I felt I would be at the moment.

Before I could think about it any further, I drew the blade quickly against my skin, feeling the burning sensation that I had grown to love.

I released an audible sigh when I felt some of the tension leave my body as I watched the crimson blood welling to the surface. I continued to mark myself until my mind had quieted to a somewhat normal state and my thighs were covered in angry red cuts.

I felt like such a fuck up for finding pleasure in pain, but I did...honesty - I felt better than I had in days now that I had finally given in to the urge to self-harm.

With shaking hands, I cleaned myself up as best I could and returned to my bedroom, restoring my razor to its hiding place.

I felt guilty for not waking Frank; I had promised to always tell him when I felt the urge to cut again, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it tonight. I knew that this time, I wouldn't have been able to relax until I had found some way to release my pent up emotion, and nothing he would have said could have taken back my actions.

I snuck under the covers without disturbing him, and I relished the sting I felt in my thighs. Before my mind could emerge from the coma I had put it in, I closed my eyes and slipped back to sleep for a few more hours.

-------------------------------------------

Time seemed to be dragging today, and I couldn't wait until school was finally over. My history teacher's droning voice was threatening to put me to sleep, and I had to constantly shake myself to keep awake.

My notes consisted of random doodles instead of any actual information, I knew I should be listening because we had a test on Friday, but I couldn't force myself to concentrate today.

I had managed to hide what I had done last night from Frank, and I didn't think he was suspicious. His mother had called him this morning - asking him to come home, and he had been preoccupied with his own thoughts the whole way to school.

I was really worried about him...as much as I wanted him to, he couldn't stay with me forever. My mom was going to start asking questions eventually, and I knew neither of us would be able to answer them to her satisfaction.

It had crossed my mind that I should tell her about Frank's situation and see if she could help, but he had shot that idea down when I mentioned it. He said he didn't want to drag my family into his life, and I had done enough for him already.

I could tell he was considering going back home, and that scared me. Now that the horror of what his stepdad had done was beginning to fade, I knew Frank was starting to think that maybe it wouldn't happen again.

His mother had told him that it was all an accident, and that his stepdad never meant to hurt him. She promised that if he came home, he would stop drinking, and everything would be perfect again.

Maybe he would, but I didn't believe that for a second; he might not touch Frank for a week - or even a month, but some day he would fall into the bottle again, and I didn't want my baby in his line of fire.

"Mr. Way?" My history teacher's voice snapped me out of my musings, and I glanced up at him sheepishly.

"The bell rang a minute ago, and I don't believe that you enjoy my class so much that you would elect to stay here instead of going home."

"Oh - I'm sorry sir" I blushed bright red as I fumbled with my notebook and bag before exiting the room rapidly.

As I headed toward my locker, I decided that I needed to talk to Frank about everything I was thinking. I knew he would have to go back home soon, but I didn't want him alone with his stepdad.

Maybe he could stay home during the day, and come over to my house whenever his mom worked late. It wasn't a perfect solution, but it was better than nothing, and hopefully he would be open to the idea.

I quickened my steps; Frank was probably waiting for me already, and I didn't want him to worry, but when I approached my locker, I couldn't spot his dark head of hair anywhere...that's strange - he usually waits for me here so we can walk home together.

After stowing the books I wasn't going to need for the night and waiting a few more minutes for Frank to show up, I decided to go looking for him. Maybe he had gotten detention, or his teacher had held him back to talk to him about something.

I walked through the now mostly deserted hallways, keeping my eyes peeled for any sign of my boyfriend. When I reached his classroom, I found it empty...now I was really beginning to get nervous.

I pulled out my phone and sent him a quick text - asking where he was, but when I still hadn't received a reply five minutes later, I stuffed it back into my pocket with a frustrated sigh.

I decided to check our bench to see if he was out there, even though he usually would tell me if he had snuck off for a smoke, but he wasn't there either.

As I continued to search for him, I tried not to let my thoughts get carried away, but that was like trying not to breathe. Why wouldn't Frank have told me if he had something going on after school? That wasn't like him, and the only reason I could come up with was that he didn't want me to know.

I knew I was overreacting, but that didn't stop the growing panic that was beginning to overtake my body. I tried to calm myself down by repeating over and over that everything was fine, but my brain refused to believe me.

After checking the detention hall and the music room, I gave up and turned my feet toward the school entrance. I didn't know where else Frank could possibly be, and I didn't want to have a breakdown on school grounds.

I sent a text to Mikey - asking if he had seen Frank, but I highly doubted he had, he was going to Ray's after school, and they were probably already there by now.

The only other option I could think of was that maybe Frank had gone back to his house after school, and he had been afraid to tell me because of how I might have reacted.

I had reached the entrance of the school by now, and as I was pushing the heavy front doors open, I froze in shock when I saw who was in the courtyard. Frank and Jamia stood underneath a shaded pillar, and if I hadn't been looking so hard for him, I might have missed them completely.

Silently - I let the door ease shut, and I watched from my hiding place to try and ascertain what was going on. They seemed to be locked in deep conversation; I wished that I could hear what they were saying, but that would be impossible without giving away my location.

Just as I was plucking up the courage to walk outside and interrupt them, Jamia leaned forward and wrapped her arms around my boyfriend's neck before pressing her lips against his in a full on kiss.

I felt my stomach literally sink down to my feet as I witnessed my boyfriend blatantly cheat on me. My vision went blurry and I thought I was going to be sick right then and there.

Unable to watch anymore, I spun around and blindly ran to the nearest bathroom, where I proceeded to throw up the small amount of food I had eaten that day. Once my stomach was empty, I made my way toward the back exit on shaking legs.

Frank was cheating on me...with a girl...I couldn't erase the image of their lip lock from my mind, and it was destroying me. How could he do this to me...he told me he loved me!

I should have known it was all a lie...no one could love an ugly fucked up piece of shit like me. I shouldn't even be surprised, but I truly thought what Frank and I had was special.

Somehow I made it home, even though I could barely see where I was going through my haze of tears. My phone has been blowing up the entire way, but I angrily switched it off before throwing it on the kitchen counter.

I was in emotional agony, it felt as if there was a dagger lodged in my heart, and each time I thought of Frank, it was twisted even deeper inside me. A sob tore its way out of my chest, and I threw myself onto my bed as the bitter tears overwhelmed me.

Never before had I felt so utterly devastated. Frank was the best thing in my life, but he obviously didn't care about me the way I did for him.

I couldn't believe I was stupid enough to actually think someone like him could love me? I shouldn't have been so surprised though; I didn't deserve him...I knew that from the start, so why was I so shocked that he was cheating on me?

I pulled out the bottle of vodka that had remained untouched for so long, and took a large sip of the clear substance. I welcomed the familiar burn as the liquor slid down my throat...oh god I had missed this.

In no time at all, the bottle was mostly empty, and I was borderline drunk. Imbued with liquid courage, I went downstairs and checked my phone to see what Frank had to say for himself.

After scrolling through a few texts from Mikey - saying that he hadn't seen Frank, and asking if everything was okay, I opened the ones from my supposed boyfriend.

From Frankie <3: Hey Gee where are you?

From Frankie <3: Are you at home?

From Frankie <3: Sorry I am so late something came up

When I read the last text, I threw the bottle of vodka that was still clutched in my hand against the wall, where it shattered with a resounding crash.

Something came up...that's the fucking explanation he decided to give me!

My sobs resumed in earnest, and I fell to the cold kitchen tiles, clutching my stomach as if that would lessen the pain.

Was it possible to die of a broken heart, because I was pretty sure that I was?

The evil voice in my head returned full force now that I was defenseless and alone.

Without Frank - what is the point in living...

No one loves you...

No one would miss you...

You would be doing the world a favor...

Just end it all...

I dragged myself to my feet and returned upstairs to where I had hidden my blades. Today I would give the voice what it wanted...I was done with this pathetic excuse for a life, and I was ready to sleep forever...

So in honor of Frank Iero's birthday, I actually managed to put out an update today :)

I actually woke up at 4am feeling like I was having a panic attack, which gave me the inspiration to write this chapter.

Sorry for all the feels, but I had to add some drama in this story somewhere.

What did you guys do for Halloween? I am currently drunk off my ass and I just finished watching The Nightmare Before Christmas, so if there is a lot of errors in this chapter, that is why haha.

Okay loves you know what to do :) Vote, comment, all that good stuff and I will love you forever.

<3 star