Give Me All Your Hopeless Hearts // Frerard

October 4th

        Ironically, I'm actually a good student. I work pretty quickly in class so I rarely have any homework, considering I finish it all before school ends. Plus, I have study hall first so in the event I don't finish in class, I will the next morning. Typically, my Sundays involved sleeping in until 9 and then going for a walk. I try to enjoy the day before the week starts up again. However, today is untypical. 

        I stayed up late texting Jenna last night. It was around 3 in the morning when she told me she was heading to bed. I didn't see too much of it as a problem, figuring I could just sleep in. But I was awake at 7:30 am when my parents burst into WWIII. You know, I always thought WWIII was an everyday occurrence but today was different. It was actually hell. 

        In my sleepy haze, I try ignoring the yelling. I roll over, burying head under my pillow and do my best to shut out the screaming. After an agonizing amount of time, they yelling hasn't ceased, perhaps gotten louder. I throw myself out of bed and stumble to find my earbuds. Even with a closed door, it's still ridiculous. With less than three hours of sleep, I manage to find them on my desk. Hastily connecting it to my phone, I frantically turn on my music. Paradise Fears. They're soothing. I turn up the volume loud enough to drown out the sounds but low enough for me to fall back asleep. I'm so tired I don't have the strength to contemplate my family crisis. Lying back down, I try drifting off. The thing about falling asleep is you feel like you can't until you wake up. I only recall listening to three songs but before I knew it, I was halfway through listening to a different album. 

        My door slams open and I bolt out of bed, taking my earbuds out. "Let's go, Frank," my father growls at me. 

        "W-What?" I ask, rubbing my eyes. 

        "You fucking won't!" my mother screams in the hall. I hear her running up the stairs. 

        "We're leaving, get your shit," he says. I don't move, which makes him angry. "LET'S GO!" He grabs my arms and yanks my ass out of bed

        "Alright!" I cry out, pulling away from him 

        My mother storms into to my room. "You're not taking him away from me!" she screams at him.

        "You don't know how to be a good parent," my dad hollers back at her. 

        "You're not taking my baby away from me!" She looks at me.  "Frank, I-"

        "He's not yours anymore." My dad grabs my mothers and pulls her away from me. I stand still, biting my lip. They've gotten into brawls before. My father doesn't believe in hitting women unless they strike you first. But I know my mother has no problem in punching my dad though, meaning if she hits him, all bets are off. 

        "Son of a bitch, let me go."

        "You're the one who dragged him into this mess. You don't love him."

        "He's my child, of course, I love him!" 

        My dad wraps his arms around my mother's waist and pulls her away from me. "Frank," he says, looking in my direction. "Get your things, I'm taking you away."

        "Where?" I ask.

        "You're not taking him anywhere," my mother screams.

        "Far away, you'll be better there. No more fighting. It'll be okay. You can start over again, isn't that what you wanted?"

        "Yeah! But I got it already. I wanted to start over when we were in Jersey but I like it here."

        "Things are changing and you've been here for less than a month. It won't be bad."