Phobia | Frerard

Animophobia

Ani.mo.pho.bia

Noun

The irrational fear of having reoccuring or ordinary emotions as they are seen as being vulnerable.

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"I cannot even fathom this behavior, Frank!" Linda screeched as she tightly gripped the color of Frank's button up shirt, dragging him out of the Town Hall at a pace that was too fast for his short legs.

This is it, I'm going to die at the hands of my angry mother, Frank thought. He wasn't scared of his mother, he was fucking terrified of her. If Frank didn't know any better, he would've described his mom as the real life embodiment of the Wicked Witch of the West. She was just that awful most of the time.

Frank rolled his eyes and squirmed out of her tight grip, then stopped dead in his tracks to add to his already long list of disobedience. "Mom, calm down. I didn't do anything wrong."

Of course he was lying through his teeth. He knew exactly what he did.

Linda's eyes widened so much that Frank thought they would actually pop out if she kept going. Waving her boney finger in his face, she began to shrill her voice like a vulture, "How dare you talk to me like that? You deliberately disobeyed me tonight! Do you even know how embarrassing this is for your father and I? I can't even believe you!"

Frank hugged his arms around himself to keep warm from the freezing outdoor air, "I don't see what I did wrong." He lied.

"Have you really become this blind?" Linda spat with her face only inches from her son's, "What have they been telling you in school? Is speaking with Diffs suddenly something that should be taken lightly and laughed about over supper?"

Frank bit his lip to hold back the chuckle he so badly wanted to let escape from the depths of his vocal cords. This was funny to him. His mother was in fact pissed over Frank sitting with the Way brothers and having a full fledged conversation with them. The other thing that was funny to him was how bad his mother was taking his attitude, she didn't know how to handle it since he'd been biting his tongue for seventeen years straight. He'd talked back to her a total of nine times already. And damn, was he proud of himself.

"Ohh," Frank leaned his head back with a defiant smile across his face and nodded, "You're talking about Gerard Way, arentcha?"

"Of course I am! I'm beyond disappointed in you, Frank Anthony."

Frank internally cringed. He knew he was in deep shit when his mother whipped out his middle name, but his unbothered appearance never vanished. "Just get the hell over it!" Frank blurted out more loudly than needed. He wasn't even thinking. God, he couldn't express how much he regretted saying that.

"What in God's name has gotten into you?" Linda screamed and took two steps away from her son. She didn't even want to look at him at this point, "Just go home."

"Wh..what?" Now Frank was taken aback.

"Go. Home." Linda enforced sternly, her teeth gritted and her eyes still bulging from their sockets.

Frank squinted his eyes and stared at his mom in disbelief, "You..you want me to walk home in the freaking dark? In the cold?"

"You brought this upon yourself. I can't even believe you have the audacity to disrespect me." Linda retorted. She sounded so nonchalant, it almost brought Frank to tears. His mother never acted like this, but to be fair, Frank never usually disrespected her either.

"You can't just do that!"

"I'm the mother. I can do as I please."

"And what if I don't walk?" Frank shouted, testing his mother's limits.