THIS CHAPTER SHOULD BE DOWN ONE... for some reason i can't get it to move....
I can’t remember when I fell asleep. All I remember was that Frank was touching me. And that was all I had ever wanted. I had everything in the world when I was lying in the grass, trembling, with his hand on my back. He wanted me. Not the way I wanted him. He wanted me as a friend. Someone to trust, someone to talk to. Someone that helps you. I knew I could never have him the other way, but this was close. Close to perfect. For me, anyway.
“Gerard.” I heard Frank say softly. He shook me gently, and I realized with pleasure that he’d never taken his hand away. “Gerard, wake up.”
I sighed and forced my eyes open, immediately regretting it. The light was too bright, and the air was too thick. I sat up, and it took longer than it should have.
“You ok Gerard? You look like you’re gonna throw up again.” Frank said. Not in a disgusted way- a gentle, concerned way.
I shook my head, though actually I did feel nauseous. Once was enough, I told myself repeatedly. I was not going to embarrass myself by throwing up in front of him twice.
I swallowed a few times and felt better. They say sickness is like that. If you tell yourself you’re ok, you will be. It worked that time anyway.
“We need to get away from here. People are starting to stare.”
“Ok,” I said, trying to think coherently. “Where are we gonna go?”
The look on Frank’s face clearly told me he’d been trying to figure that out for a long time. He sighed deeply, and I noticed a hint of fear in his eyes when he spoke.
“We can go to my house.”
“Are you sure?” I said, still trying to fight the grogginess and disorientation.
“Yeah.” Frank said, and it almost sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than me. “Yeah.” He said again. “Let’s go.”
I got up without too much difficulty; walking was the hard part. It took too much energy, and balancing was a new struggle.
It was only one minute before I walked right into a tree. My nose crunched painfully against the trunk, and I jerked back and fell down from the impact.
“Ow,” I muttered from the grass before I could stop myself.
“Wow. You’re really out of it.” Frank said playfully as he extended his hand to me, helping me up off the ground.
“Yeah. Sorry.” I said, touching my nose and pulling my hand back when I felt the wetness. I stared at the blood for a moment, marveling at the rich red color before wiping it off on my pants. Frank stared blankly at me, eyes wide again.
“What’s wrong?” I asked him
Frank blinked again, then spoke nervously. “Uh…I don’t really…like…blood that much.” His voice was shaking, and he averted his eyes, gazing at the street in front of us.
I stared at him, feeling confused through all the haziness in my mind. Frank, afraid of blood?
“You’re afraid of blood?” I said, feeling my eyebrows come together.
Frank nodded vaguely. “Yeah. It’s nothing big.” He spoke quickly, as I moved frantically to get rid of the red dripping from my nose. The last thing I wanted was to make him uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry Frank.” I said, covering my face with my arm. He pulled my arm back gently, and I could feel the slightest trembling in his hand.
He smiled, a soft beautiful smile. The movement of his lips bent the light, reflecting his very smile into his eyes. He looked almost angelic in front of me; calm, caring, but slightly out of place.
“Don’t Gerard. It’s not your fault you got hurt.” He paused for a moment, and then added a very Frank-like statement. “Well, actually, I guess it is.” He grinned again. “But that’s ok.”
Reluctantly, I pulled my arm down, after doing one final swipe to rid myself of the blood. Frank was smirking again.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here.” This time, Frank made sure to stick closer to me, after my walking-into-a-tree incident. That didn’t happen again, though there were some close calls. I felt him tensing up, and I wondered why. By the time we reached his house, his hands were clenched into tight fists at his sides. I watched him stare at his house. It was more of a shack, really. There couldn’t have been more than three rooms in the whole thing. The paint was faded; gray where it should have been blue. There were shingles missing.
He turned back to me with a fearful expression on his face, which he tried to mask with a cool smile.
“Wait out here for a second, alright?”
I nodded, trying to force the two Franks that I was seeing into one. He walked up to his front door, jiggling the handle, and then slamming his shoulder into it when that failed. He was quick to shut the door behind him; the slam echoed. There was a moment of eerie silence, and for one second, I heard absolutely nothing. But just for one second. After that, the screaming started.
“What the hell are you doing home?” A deep voice growled, at such a high volume it made me flinch.
“I’m sick. They sent me home.” Frank said calmly, but by now, I knew him well enough to hear the fear behind it.
“You don’t look sick to me boy-“
“I have a fucking name.” Frank said angrily. The response he got made me tremble. Out of fear for Frank.
“What’d you say? And don’t you use that language. I’ll knock it out of you. And hopefully I’ll knock some sense back in. Boy.” The man spat the last word out; a mockery of Frank’s attempt to stand up for himself.
“I’ve got a goddamn name.” Frank said, trading the old word for a new one. I couldn’t see inside, and I was glad about that. There was a shattering sound; glass breaking against the wall. I heard thumps; a cry of pain, which I knew was Frank’s. I swallowed as I stared at the house, wanting so much to help him. But I couldn’t. And I knew that.
“Don’t touch that!” Frank shouted from inside. There was a laugh that made me skin crawl.
“What? Don’t touch this?” Then there was a shattering sound again, though it was different. It was a crack, splintering as something broke.
Frank’s cry was the saddest thing I can ever imagine hearing. “No! NO! You bastard!” Pained sobbing filled the air, and I thought that I would die having to listen to him cry. I couldn’t stand it. My vision was blurring more, and I realized I was crying too. No one should have to listen to this. No one should have to listen to this.
The door flew open suddenly, and Frank ran out, slamming the door behind him. He fell on his way down the stairs, tumbling head over heels onto the concrete. I had a moments delayed reaction, and then I made my way to him as quickly I could manage.
“Frank? Are you ok?” I said, staring down at him. He nodded, unable to speak, stunned from his fall. He moved his mouth desperately, but no sounds came out. I just watched as tears slipped down his cheeks. He closed his eyes tightly, curling into a ball with his knees up against his chest. The first sound I heard from him was sobbing, and I wanted to disappear. I couldn’t watch him. But I couldn’t leave him, not after all this. Not after all he’d done to me. Not after everything that I’d just heard.
I put a hand on his shoulder hesitantly, stroking it with my thumb. It was a simple gesture, nothing overbearing. I just wanted him to know someone was there.
After a moment, Frank was able to force out words through his tears.
“We need to go.” He pushed himself up off the ground feverishly, panicked as he looked back at the house. It was clear he expected someone to come out after him.
“Frank, your head-“ I tried to tell him about the gash, the blood that was dripping down and forming a trail that made him look like something out a horror movie.
“No. We have to go. “ He grabbed my hand, sprinting away from the house. It was all I could do not to fall. I felt my feet stumbling, but I willed myself not to fall. I would not fall.
Frank stopped behind some trees a few hundred yards away from the house. He leaned back against one, moaning and sliding onto the ground.
“What happened Frank?” I asked him, desperate to know what had happened, though part of me knew I didn’t really want to know the answer.
Frank tried to control his sobbing as he replied me. “He broke my guitar. He broke my guitar.” The way he looked now made it seem like he was mourning the death of his closest friend. I didn’t know what to say to him, so I just left my hand on his shoulder and watched him feeling helpless. My ditch day was not going anything like I’d planned.
“Frank, who was that?” I asked him tentatively. “Who did this to you?”
Frank sniffed and I noticed suddenly how very small he looked.
“My stepdad.” He spit out the words like he thought they’d burn his mouth if he kept them inside.
“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say, but that weak reply made me blush.
There was a moment’s silence, and then Frank stood up, wiping his face off with his sleeve. He still didn’t know about all the blood yet.
Clearly, he was done crying. “Come on. You look like shit. We gotta get you somewhere safe.” Obviously we weren’t going back to his house. I had no idea where he was planning on taking me now. But as long as they weren’t going to hurt him anymore and they had some medication and something to sleep on, I didn’t care.
I walked next to Frank in a zombie like state, about to pass out at any given moment. He saw that too, and kept a close eye on me the whole time. We walked for I don’t know how long. All I know is that it seemed like forever and nothing at the same time. It was out of it, to say the least.
Frank stopped in front of a cherry-brick house with black roofing. He stared at it with longing, then took a deep breath and sighed. He turned and gave me one last glance before walking up to it and knocking loudly.
I was almost on the ground by now, but I forced myself to watch him, to make sure he was ok. He was trembling as he stood in front of the door, which swung open only a few seconds later.
The woman who opened it had salt and pepper hair pulled back away from her pale face. She was old; wrinkles covered most of her skin. But her vibrant green eyes took us in; going from surprise to horror.
Frank swallowed, staring up at the old woman with an embarrassed expression.
“Elena, I’m really sorry. I….I don’t have anywhere to go.” His lower lip quivered, but he steeled it. He turned to me. “Elena, this is Ge-“
“I know who he is. “ The woman cut him off. She walked towards me with a soft expression. “He’s my grandson.”
Like I said, short, and not the best chapter in the world. But I'm trying really hard. Also, here's my other deal- I was really bummed at the lack of response in the last chapter. Four reviews. Three really, but IeroMyHeroMCR doesn't count because she's required to review. Anyway, it really bummed me out, so I'm gonna set a goal this chapter. Eight reviews. Just eight. And then I will post again. But I'm not updating until I get eight reviews. Rating won't kill you either :-) Thanks everyone!!! Love you all....
EDIT- COME ON PEOPLE. 3. INCLUDING IEROMYHEROMCR. Just one tiny review. And I know you're reading it, because I'm over a hundred views. Just review. I only need 5 people....