I ran a hand through my hair and got up from my seat at the coffee table. “This can’t be happening, Frank,” I murmured, voice cracking. “It… It just can’t be…” Frank sighed sympathetically. Before he could answer, a burst of renewed anguish swelled up in my heart. Like a lightning bolt striking the ground suddenly, something inside me snapped. Terrified, hurt, enraged adrenaline surged through me.

“Frank, why? Why did she have to do this? Why did this have to happen?!” Insanely angry, I started to pace the wood floor. My steps that the combat boots made echoed off the walls. Frank took a deep breath before answering.

“Gerard, I just don’t know man, I really don’t know,” my bandmate rasped.

Clenching my fists, I whirled to face him, digging my nails into my palms so hard I felt the familiar heat of blood trickling down my hand.

“Why did that person have to be driving drunk? Why? This isn’t fair! It’s not her fault! ”

At a loss for words, he put his head in his hands and murmured, “I’m so sorry, Gerard. I am so, so sorry. But there’s nothing we can do.” Like he just kicked me in the gut, I drew in a sharp, painful breath, being reminded once again the unbelievably impossible task I would have to go through with.

“I can’t do it! You know I can’t!” I ran a hand through my hair as the memories came flooding back. She’s cut this hair so many times. How can I ever go through with this? A choked sob burst out of me as I sunk to my knees. Frank got up and kneeled next to me, putting an arm around my shoulder. There was a very long silence, just the chilling sound of my cries floating into the air. After a bit, the stress was so out of control I started to shake furiously.

“Gerard Way,” Frank whispered, hugging me tighter and his voice catching in his throat. “Look at me.” With great difficulty, I met his hazel eyes.

The normal ecstatic spark that was always was present was gone. Instead, eyes were full of pain and anguish. Frank was like my anti-drug. He drags me out of sadness and frustration all the time with his caring, understanding and energetic disposition. I found none of that now. He was grieving just as I was, but trying so hard to stay strong for me. My gaze flickered to the ground.

“Look at me, Gee,” he repeated quietly, throat catching again. I did as he drew me closer with his arm around me. I saw a lone tear slip down his cheek. “You know you have to pull the plug. There’s nothing left they can do.” At this, a violent shudder passed through me.
“But she’s my mother!” I wailed, feeling tears stream down my face even more.

“I know,” he rasped. It sounded painful to say this, to admit it. I could hear, and almost feel the physical pain he was enduring to say it. “But you have to. Gerard, I hate this. You have no clue. But you have to.” Without warning, another spasm of grief violently shook me.

“I can’t kill her Frank! I’m killing her!” Letting out a cry of sadness, he turned to me and pulled me into a hug. Frank held me close and didn’t flinch when I buried my face in his shoulder, sobbing. As he hugged me tighter, a strong wave of comfort crashed over me. We were closer than brothers. Like he promised me he would, my best friend was with me through the hardest times, even the death of my mother.

“Gerard,” Frank whispered in my ear. “It’s alright. I’m here, standing by you. Now and forever.”