A/N
Sorry, this chapter will be Frank Iero sized (which is to say, short). I promise the chapters will be longer, I just wanted to end on a cliffhanger.
Enjoy!

I don't leave the hospital. I don't eat, I don't sleep, I barely breathe. After Frank and Mikey died, Vi was the only thing keeping me sane.
Now, I'm falling down, through a downward spiral to hell. Now, I have nothing left to live for.
After about a week of starving myself and almost dehydrating myself, I cracked. I was only barely holding onto life. Life was a slippery pole, and I was a human trying to hold onto it, while I was being pulled in the opposite direction. I knew that if I didn't do something soon, I would lose my grip on that stupid pole, and I would take my last breath.
Who would even care? My mom wouldn't. Frank wouldn't, he's still six feet under. Mikey wouldn't, he's Frank's neighbor. Vi wouldn't have a say, she's probably going to die.
I wouldn't care either.
Why not die?
What did I have to lose?
Everyone I cared about was gone.
It's only a matter of time before I follow in their footsteps.
One grim day, I decided I should finally go back home.
"Hello G-Grard," my mom slurred from the couch.
"Save your breath, shithead," I said as I stormed into my room. I go to lay down on my bead, but it's occupied. In my bed, there's a small, only about 5'6" tall man lying on my bed. His hands are folded behind his head and his legs are crossed. He's staring up at me, smirking. His black hair hangs just above his eyes. I can't believe what I'm seeing.
"F-Frank?"