Title: Like Ghosts in the Snow part 1
Word count: 5154
Summary: Gerard Way moves into a new town, a new house. This is where he meets the tortured soul of a young Frank Iero. At the young age of 16 Frank had been brutally murdered in his own home. Can Gerard help Frank so he can just finally rest in piece? Or will Frank be the one that saves Gerard in the end? *One of the first Frerards ive written, starts out slow but then gets better*
Warnings: character death, violence
Disclaimer: I don’t own anyone from My Chemical Romance, this is just story, a made up one at that.
I stared out the car window as we drove down the road, away from my old house, my old home. I let a single tear fall. That’s all that I would allow. I watched as the rain fell down from the sky, watering the ground with its presence. Rain was such a depressing thing.
I looked to my little brother Mikey, who was sitting next to me starring out the window with wide eyes and a large smile present on his face. He was excited for the move; he had even had the great idea for it. What Mikey wanted, Mikey got. I wouldn’t say that he was a spoiled brat or anything; my parents just treated him like he was the only child they had. I got nothing, nobody cared for me.
“Oh, Gerard stop moping! You’re acting like it’s the end of the world, you are such a drama queen,” my dad huffed turning around and glaring at me with hawk eyes. “This is such a great experience for Mikey, and your ruining it for him.” He spat at me, turning his attention to Mikey.
“Don’t worry Mikes, your brother is just on his period again.” He chuckled before turning back around and continuing with the drive.
I let out a straggled sigh and kept my eyes locked out the window, blocking out anything and everyone in the car. Soon enough I found myself getting tired, so I decided to shut my eyes and try to sleep. I hoped that I would wake up and all of this would just be a dream.
“Gerard, get your lazy ass up! Were home,” My dad yelled, smacking me upside the head. I groaned and sat up, rubbing my now pounding head.
I grabbed my bag and got out of the car, I was greeted with the sight of my new house. I had to admit it was pretty, but it was so old. It had missing shingles and the white pant was chipping off the side. It was what appeared to be three stories high. That made me wonder why we needed such a big house. There were so many plants, and trees and so much life. But the house itself looked dead. It sort of gave me the creeps.
“Home sweet home,” my mom cooed as she sat her bags down and stared at the new house. I groaned and picked up my bags, and made my way to the steps of the old house.
As soon as I walked into the house, the first thing that hit me was the smell. It smelt like mold, and mildew. Just plain disgusting. It looked like it was built in like the 1800’s. Or something out of a horror movie, either way, I didn’t like it.
I was interrupted from my thoughts as I felt a gush of wind blow passed me; I squealed and twirled around, coming face to face with Mikey.
“Get out of the way Gerard!” Mikey screamed. “I get to pick the first room!” he bellowed, tumbling his way up the stairs. I heard the stairs creak and I wasn’t surprised. This house was ancient.
I followed him up the stairs, trailing drastically behind. I get up there to see Mikey has already picked his room, which just so happened to be the biggest room on this floor. He stuck his tongue out at me and slammed his door shut.
I sighed and stood there, waiting for either my mom or dad to come upstairs and tell me which room I get, there was only one other one on this floor. Soon enough, my dad came up the stairs, carrying at least two boxes at the same time. He huffed and placed them down.
“Oh, Gerard, I almost forgot. You will be getting the attic, sense there is only five bedrooms in this house, Mikey needs a gaming room, I need my office and your mother can have the other room for whatever she wants. Oh and I know your into that creepy dead bat stuff, so you’ll like it up there,” he laughed at me, kicking open his bedroom door and placing down his boxes.
I nodded my head and walked over to the next staircase, and made my way up it. The floor boards creaked under my weight as I stepped on the first step. Why would they buy this old run down place anyway? It was probably because Mikey wanted it. Like I said earlier, Mikey gets what Mikey wants.
I soon found the attic, and let’s just say it was probably the worst room in the house. There was even some stuff left up here from the previous owners. I sighed as I made my way over to the boxes and picked them up one by one, placing them in the far corner of the room, I would deal with them later. The attic had this distant sort of musky smell that I would have to grow accustomed to. And there was only one strip that was called a ‘window’ where the light could shine through. And it was strangely cold up here, a sort of eerie feeing that I just couldn’t put my finger on.
I made my way down stairs and collected the last few of my boxes before I made my way back up to my attic. If my parents thought that they would also use this room for storage, they had another thing coming. I placed my boxes on the other side of the room, away from the others so that they wouldn’t get mixed up.
I laid down a blanket that I had gotten out of one of the boxes and laid down on top of it, starring up at the ceiling. I missed my old home. I was going to miss my friends that I did actually have and my grandma too. I can’t believe they just left her like that, especially at this time when she’s at her worst.
I let a few more tears fall as it was all coming back to me. I was so far away from all the ones that I cared about, and I was never going back. I let myself cry it out as I lay there in my new ‘room’. I hated my life. I hated this house. I hated what my parents have become. I soon found myself crying myself to sleep.
I woke up to my father banging on the attic door shouting at the top of his lungs, something that I really could not decipher. I groaned and sat up on my ‘bed’. I was very confused at first, not really knowing where I was at when it hit me. This was my new house. I thought it was all just some nightmare and that when I woke up I would be back at my house, it the safety of my room. But I have to face reality. We are never going back.
I got up and went over to the box that was marked as ‘clothes’ and opened it, looking through it for an outfit that I could wear that day. I hardly had any clothes, so it wasn’t that hard to pick from the little that I had. I finally decided on wearing my misfit’s shirt and my white skinny jeans. I slipped them on and made my way down stairs.
When I got down stairs I was shocked. I guess I didn’t realize just how big this house was. Well, I guess the word ‘big’ was an understatement. This house was humongous. The kitchen was about three times the size the one at our old house. I didn’t even want to see how big the bathrooms were.
I stumbled my way into the dining room where I see my family all sitting at a table that looked like it was built for a dozen. They all looked up at me at the same time, the same expression on all of their faces. They didn’t want me here, and I didn’t want to be here either.
“Well, it’s nice of you to join us fag, you’re just in time to eat with us. Go make yourself a plate and sit the fuck down.” My dad snarled at me, eyes like daggers. I nodded my head and walked back into the kitchen.
I made my way over to the stove to find just one biscuit left of the whole meal. Its either my mom hadn’t made that much food or my dad was just plain fat now. I grabbed the biscuit off of the tray and made my way back to the dining room and took a seat at the other end of the table, away from the rest of them.
“Hey, by the way we are going up into the town after breakfast so you can just stay here. And I am warning you now, stay out of my stuff or there will be consequences.” My dad spat at me from across the table. I nodded my head again and began to nibble on the biscuit.
I never talked back to my father. I always just nodded my head to him when he spoke to me. I never commented on his hurtful jokes or his snide comments. I obeyed him, knowing what would happen if I disobeyed him.
I ate my breakfast in silence, trying my best not to glance up at them or make any noises. I couldn’t help but feel that I wasn’t accepted here. I knew that I wasn’t accepted here. My father had made that clear multiple times. But, I tried to convince myself that he was always just messing with me. It saved me my tears.
Minutes later the front door slammed and I was left alone. I decided that this was for the best. This gave me time to look around the new house, without my father screaming at me the whole time.
The first place that I was going to look was downstairs, since I was already down here. I would work my way up, going from floor to floor. I walked out of the dining room and went down the hall and turned to the left, to find what looked to be a laundry room. The house was way too old and everything looked broken down and torn. I didn’t have a clue why they would want to live here by choice.
I finished looking at all of the rooms on the first floor and it looked nothing special. It was all just plain and boring. There was no color and almost everything was made of wood. There was a bathroom, a massive living room and the dining room and kitchen. Maybe they liked this house because of the size of it.
I walked my way up the stairs, the steps creaking as I walked. I felt as if the steps were about to collapse underneath me. I walked a little faster and got up the second floor. This is where all of the bedrooms were, and I wasn’t allowed into them. But, there was another door at the end of the hall.
I walked forward to it, curiosity getting the best of me. I got up to the door and gently pushed it, while it creaked open. What I saw surprised me. It was a library. An actual library in my house. I couldn’t believe it. I walked slowly into the room, admiring all of the rows and columns of books that lined up the walls.
I walked over to the first book shelf and grabbed the first book that I saw. It was a Tom Sawyer book, and I have never read one of his books before. I wasn’t a big fan of reading, but I realized that I would probably be in here very often. I walked over to the other side of the room where a small couch was present.
I went and sat down on the couch, dust flying up as I settled down onto it. I opened the book to the first page and began to read it. That’s when something very strange happened. I heard a book being slammed shut, and I was the only one home. I next heard the shuffling of feet and books being moved around.
I shut my book and raised an eyebrow as I waited to hear another sound. Nothing else happened for a few minutes and I just sat there, waiting. The next thing that I heard shocked, and scared me a little bit. I heard a mumbling noise. I heard a voice, it was very audible and I had no idea what the voice said, but I heard it.
“Hello?” I called out. I listened very carefully for someone to say something back, but it never did. Instead, there was a light breeze.
I shivered a little bit and I got up and began to walk to the door to go and explore the rest of the house. But I couldn’t do that. The library door was blew shut and all the lights went out. My breath hitched in my throat as I was in complete darkness. Then, I realized something. I was not alone.
I walked across the library, trying to find the door so that I could escape. I was breathing so heavily, all of this was happening at once and I felt as if I were about to have a panic attack. I ran back over to where I thought the door handle might be and reached out for it in the complete darkness.
I found the door handle and began to try and yank it open, trying to use all of my strength to get it open. Nothing would work. I sighed and slid down the door, and sat on the floor with my legs crossed. That’s when I heard a sound, a sort of jingling sound. I looked up to see the door handle moving erratically. I jumped up and away from the door as the door handle kept moving, trying to get the door open.
“H-hello?” I chocked out. “Is there anybody here?” there came no answer, just some shuffling of the books and a bunch of footsteps.
I swallowed hard and turned my attention back toward the door knob. It had stopped moving and everything was silent for another moment. I grabbed the handle once more and tried to open it was so much more force. But, once again it wouldn’t budge.
I stopped dead in my tracks when this time, I heard something different. I heard laughter. It was a slight chuckle, but I could hear it and it sounded so venomous, so animalistic. I was frightened so much more now. I was shaking and I could hardly breathe anymore.
“H-hello?” I called out again, waiting anxiously for a reply. But, instead I heard nothing more than more laughter and now hurried footsteps. A laughter that was filled with so much darkness, a murderous type of laughter that made the hair stand up on the back of my neck.
I felt tears begin to prickle at the corner of my eyes as the laughter now bellowed off of the walls, getting louder and louder at every passing second. I covered my ears, trying to block out all of the laughter that was surrounding me. But what I heard next I couldn’t block out. It was an ear piercing, blood curdling scream that was so loud and so pain filled that I could almost feel the pain.
The voice wailed out in pain as the light then began to flicker on and off, on and off. The scream just became louder and louder with every second, as did the venomous laughter. I could just hear the pain and sorrow drip off from the scream it had made. I could feel its pain radiating off of my body, the pain of death.
The lights turned off as I heard books being bashed onto the floor, papers rustling around and loud thumps as the hard covered books smashed onto the floor. I heard a small yelp. Then I thought that it was going to be quiet. I thought that it had all stopped. The books were kept in place, the laughter had stopped. But, there was still that same eerie feeling that I had been feeling.
I heard crying. I heard the quiet sobs begin at the corner of the library. I could tell it was near to me, the noise so close. I went as far away from the noise I could, crawling into the opposite corner. I picked up my knees to my chest and wept. I cried, not only because I was petrified, I cried out of pity. The deep, deep sadness of its cries was almost unbearable.
This was all too real, was I dreaming? Was this just some entire cruel joke just to get a scare out of me? The lights flickered back on again and what I had seen next shocked me. There was blood. Blood covered the walls and ceiling, which all met in a pool on the floor. I could do anything but stare at it in shock. There was so much blood. I gagged at the smell, the smell of a rotting corpse.
The library was a mess. Every single thing was trashed. Books were thrown about, pages torn from the hinges, the blood. It all looked like a murder scene. There was so much blood. I closed my eyes, not being able to look at it any longer.
“Help.” Came a soft whisper from the corner of the room. My eyes opened wide, almost popping out of my skull. I looked around the room with tear filled eyes. Did I really just hear that?
I shuffled my way back against the wall. I tried to hide as I heard the voice again. The same pain filled ‘help’. I did nothing but cower against the wall. I couldn’t do anything.
I closed my eyes and let all of the tears flow. I felt horrible. I felt so bad about everything. I wanted to help this person; I wanted to be there for this person. Hearing its pleas and begs made me want to find them, help them.
“Please, help me.” The voice came again. This time, I could tell that it was a boy, and a young boy at that. Maybe fourteen or fifteen years old. I opened my eyes and wiped back my tears.
“I want to help you!” I called out. “I want to help you, but I can’t see you. I have no idea where you are!” I called to him, getting up the courage to actually say something.
The crying subdued and I could hear the low shallow breathing of a person. But, I knew none of my family was there, so there had to be someone different. Maybe someone had broken in or something, but that didn’t explain anything. How come I couldn’t see them?
“W-who is it? Who are you? I- I can’t see you! Help me! Try and help me! I- I’m bleeding… I’m bleeding so much. It hurts! It hurts so much!” The boy screamed out in agony.
I stood up and walked my way over to where the noises were coming from. There was no way that this was happening. There was no way that any of this was happening right now.
“I’m Gerard, I can’t see you anywhere. Where are you at?” I called out, trying to be as calm as I could. I heard his silent whimpers again before he actually spoke up.
“I-I’m over in the corner, the one by the door.” He whispered brokenly to me. I walked as fast I could over to the corner. There was nothing there.
“I don’t see you, you’re not here.” I told him as I felt the tears come alone again.
“Save me.” Was the last thing that I heard from him. The erratic breathing had stopped all together. The room fell deathly silent. I was once again, alone.
I fell to the floor and cried. I was a failure, I couldn’t save him, and now he was dead. I was a failure, just like everyone had been telling me. I failed him.
I fell asleep, huddled into a ball on the floor, right by the corner. I dreamt of the mystery boy that I had heard being murdered. I dreamt that I had actually saved him and that he had thanked me. I dreamt that he was alive and well, and that he had me to thank for it all.
By the time I woke up, my family was already home. I heard my father shouting from the front door of the house, telling me to get my lazy ass down there and start cooking some dinner. I sighed and stood up and looked about the library. There was nothing wrong, not a thing out of place. There was no more blood, no more books thrown around. I reached down for the door knob and twisted it. The door came open with no hassle.
All of this confused me. I knew that all of this was real. I knew that I hadn’t dreamt it up. It was all so too real to be just a dream. It was real, not a dream real. I could never get those screams out of my head, those pained screams and cries for help. It was so haunting.
I walked out into the hall way and looked both ways, everything seemed so normal. Like that thing that just happened not even a few hours ago didn’t really happen. I walked down the stairs and walked back over to the kitchen. I saw my dad at the table, sitting there with his arms folded across his chest.
“Well, well, well, where have we been then? You weren’t in your bedroom. I kind of figured that I didn’t have to flag you down to actually be able to eat something. I want you to make my food right now and you better be quick about it. This better not happen again.” My father yelled at me. I nodded my head.
“I was in the library sir, I fell asleep while reading a book, sorry.” I told him as I walked my way over into the kitchen.
I went over to the cupboard and grabbed a box of pasta out. I went back over to the stove and turned on the stove. I went and grabbed out a pan. I saw my father walk into the kitchen. He walked over to the stove where I was at and glared at me.
“I don’t want you going around and snooping around this house you hear me? I don’t want you to ever go into that library again. I want you to stay out of there.” He seethed at me. I nodded my head quickly. That’s when he raised his hand and smacked me right across the face.
“That is for snooping around where you don’t need to be. Now, hurry up and get this dinner done!” he yelled as he smacked the pot off of the stove top. It landed on the floor with a loud crash and the steaming hot water flew out all around.
“Clean up this mess.” He spat at me before walking back out of the kitchen.
I raised my hand and felt my cheek. He hit me hard this time. My cheek stung as I lightly grazed it. I felt some tears begin to fall as I walked over to the drawer and grabbed out a rag. I got down on all fours and began to clean.
I guess that things could be worse. I hadn’t cared much about what had just happened with my father. He was always so abusive and distraught. I was used to it, it seemed normal. I cleaned up the mess and began to cook again. I couldn’t help but cry as I watched the water begin to bubble.
I have no explanation of what happened that night. I stayed up late most nights, researching and trying to find an answer for what had happened. I had found nothing to blame other than something that had been coming up on almost ever single sight that I had went on. The only thing that seems reasonable is paranormal.
I thought about it a lot. I thought about it for hours a night as I laid on my mattress in the attic, starring up at cobwebs that were draped across the ceiling. The only thing that came to mind was, ' There's a ghost in my house,'. But, I knew that it wasn't true. There couldn't be a ghost in my house. So the only other reasonable thought was that I was crazy.
I have had two encounters with what I expect to be the same person. The first one, in the library. The second one, in the attic. It wasn't as scary as the attic one, but it was so much more real.
I was sleeping up in the attic, the misfits playing quietly in the background. Everything was calm, calmer than usual. My father was out on a business that week, so things had been going good and I got to go to sleep earlier than usual.
That's when I got woken up. I didn't know what to think at first, and I was confused as to why my music was now being turned up louder and louder till it was almost blasting.
I opened my dreary eyes, dazed and confused. My heart nearly stopped. My breath hitched in my throat. I looked across the room by the foot of the mattress. Standing there, nearly three feet away, was a boy.
I couldn't really make anything out except those hazel eyes of his. In the dim light of the room, they stood out, bright in color and nearly hypnotizing. I laid there and just starred into his eyes. I could honestly say that I was lost in them. But when I looked away I saw the rest of his body, his frail frame, short in height and sickly looking. But that was all I could really see. There was no detail, nothing but those hazel orbs and that black figure. Mesmerized by the mysterious thing in front of me, I only just really began to realize that this was unnatural and that he was not supposed to be here. If he even actually was here and not a figment of my imagination.
That's when he moved, cocking his head over to the side in a confused manor. I screamed and covered my mouth as I clenched my eyes shut. When I finally opened my eyes, the boy was gone. I haven't seen him since then, but some nights when I just lay here, I swear I can hear his muffled screams coming from the library.
Right now I was sitting down on my mattress in my attic, starring over at the wall. It wasn't the most fun thing to do on a Friday night, but I had to stay home. My father was still out on his business trip, taking my mother with him. I had to stay home to watch Mikey, but I could swear that he left about thirty minutes ago.
I sighed and stood up. I walked over to my dresser to grab out a comic book to read. I picked superman, mostly because that's the only one that I haven't read about fifteen times and settled down on my bed. I got half way through the issue before I was interrupted.
I heard a kind of giggling noise. I cocked my head to the side, and put my comic book down. It sounded so close, yet I couldn't see anyone.
"Mikey is that you?" I called out as I stood up and walked over to the Stairway that led to the second floor. I opened the latch and began my way down the stairs.
It was completely dark down there. Not a single light down stairs was on, which concluded my thought about Mikey. But what really confused me was where the giggling was coming from. That's when I heard it again, but this time only a lot louder. I closed my eyes and tried to think the sounds away.
"Its all in your head." I told myself, shaking my head to try and clear my thoughts. I heard the giggling abruptly stop to a halt.
"I'm not in your head, silly." I heard a small voice tell me. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and I suddenly got a cold chill.
I slowly turned around and was met with that same pair of hazel eyes. I backed up against the hall way, my hand trailing up the wall for the light switch. Standing there, was the boy that was in my room the other night. But this time, I could actually see him. His skin, an olive color, tattoos across his knuckles that spelled out 'HALLOWEEN'. He had on eye liner and a nose and lip ring, his eyes just as mesmerizing as i last remembered. He was shorter than me, and a lot more fragile looking, like there wasn't any fat on his bones. His face looked sad. That's the part that got me. He was sad and I didn't know how to act around him. I wanted to help him. That's when I screamed.
I screamed because I, for one was in the presence of a ghost. But two, because I wasn't really that scared. The ghost snickered at me before putting
a finger to his lips. I automatically went silent. That was when he vanished. I poked around the room, trying to figure out what was going on.
Normally things like that don't happen out of the blue. But then I realized two things. One, my house was haunted. Two, this ghost boy had some kind of intriguing and mysterious nature, that made me want to learn more about him. That's when I got the idea. I am going to go on a ghost hunt. I need to see that boy again.