Our Foundations from Decay

Frank POV

Crap. Crap. CRAP! Did I just call him Gerald? His name is obviously not Gerald, I'm actually going to rip my hair out. My ears burnt a bight shade of scarlet as I stomped my way to mathematics, my hands shoved deeply into my pockets. Either way, I hope he's alright. I reflected on what I had seen, the sight of Gerard (NOT Gerald) coming to mind. He seemed almost vacant, as though the jerks shoving him around were just another pothole in the ground, another thing to step over. 

He seemed like me.

My arm stung as I pushed open the door, walking into the room full of mind-numbing equations pasted on the lifeless walls. Curious eyes peered up at me from the rows of desks, their youthful faces failing to hide any curiosity. Why do they look so young? I double checked my timetable, confirming that I was in the right place. Glancing up in puzzlement towards the lady standing in front of me, I noticed her face reflected my same confused expression. She looked at me with a frown, her wrinkly lips downturned like a sickly frog. 

"Are you Frank Iero?"

"Yes?"

"Take a seat in the back. I'll talk to you in a minute, but I believe you were put in a lower class due to your previous absence."

I grimaced as I thanked her and started manoeuvring through the labyrinth of children surrounding me. All these kids looked around my sister's age, their juvenile smirks becoming a dead giveaway. They must be freshmen. I can't believe I'm as smart as a group of fifteen year olds. I finally reached the only empty desk in the classroom, and sat down heavily like a sack of potatoes, my bag crashing to the ground.

"Hey." I heard a voice from my left, "Who're you?"

I turned my head slightly to peek at my desk mate, bending my neck to meet his eyes. The tall, lanky man grinned at me earnestly, his curly hair casting a shadow on his expressive face. To my surprise, he seemed my age.

"The names Ray. So you're stupid like me, huh?" 

I knew the boy was joking, yet I still narrowed my eyes at him.

"Frank. And I'm not stupid, Ive just missed a lot of class, thats all."

"Enough classes to send you back to freshmen year?" The boy said with a cheeky smile, his eyebrows raised. I opened my mouth to retaliate, but the words were caught on my tongue as the teacher raised her hand, silencing us with a venomous stare.

This class is gonna suck.

The bell rattled, its call reminding me of a strangled bird. I closed my books with a bang and shoved them into my bag as quickly as possible, my thoughts of school ending persuading me to hurry.

"See you tomorrow, Franky-guy!" The curly haired boy shouted at me, giving me a vigorous slap on the back. I scowled at him and headed out the door, my headache becoming worse. This kid is too damn touchy. I shivered as I remembered the way he chatted all through the lesson, his boisterous voice booming through the class. Extroverts are something else.

I pushed through the crowd of students in the halls, scanning the identical lockers. I spotted mine in the distance and noticed the cutesy poster plastered to it, its vibrant words standing out amongst the crowd of teenagers. Huh? Who's promoting on my locker?  I eyed up the paper, my eyes almost getting getting strained from all the colours. 'Are you happy with your life? If not, join our band!' Huh, how juvenile. 'We're looking for a guitarist who has passion and spare time on their hands. Message this number to join now..'  I read the swirly font to myself, admiring the cute smiley face at the end. Guitar, huh? I've been looking for an escape. I wondered who made this poster, secretly hoping I would be the only one to sign up. Carefully peeling it off my locker, I timidly folded the page and placed it in my pocket, treating the tacky poster like a fragile king.

I felt happier than a priest in a kindergarten as I rushed down the school stairs, feeling the sun reflect on my pale face. I pulled out my cellphone the minute I escaped school grounds, typing up the number mentioned on the poster.

'Hey.' I sent the first message, 'I like guitar. You're looking to get band recruits I hear?' 

With a triumphant smile I lifted my foot up, my shoelace snagging on a broken brick, my legs sliding out from underneath me. Not again! I had learnt my lesson from last time, and my hand shot out to the side, gripping onto the stony wall. My nose slammed into the cobble, tears quickly forming in my eyes. "At least I didn't fall..." I murmured to myself, sliding on my back down the wall, collapsing on the ground. 

I took a deep breath and looked at the damages, shoving my hand into my pocket and feeling the firm, cool, and... cracked, screen of my phone. CRAP! I whipped it out and surveyed the damages, distress overcoming me as the spiderweb of fractures seemed to expand before my very eyes. My torment only continued when I spotted a bright piece of paper floating in a murky puddle of yesterdays rain, the ink leaking off the page and escaping through the concrete. I sat there with my mouth hanging open, staring at the one thing that could have helped me escape my miserable emotions. Were there any other posters hanging up? I didn't see any. I knew It wouldn't matter anyway, broken phone and all.

My head drooped as I admitted defeat. 

Dammit.