Wrote is ages ago so don't ask.
‘Did you crash?’ He asked. I looked at him, not sure of what he meant.
‘My car. Did you crash? Back into anything? Scratch the paint?’ He clarified.
‘I was too busy watching out for trucks and busses to notice.’ I said, sitting down on the floor in front of him. I watched as he pushed the sketch book under his bed and put the pencil away. He sat down in front of me again, his head in his hands.
‘Gerard, what’s going on? Everyone’s acting so different.’ I said, reaching forward to touch his shoulder.
‘This week is…. Difficult for everyone. Always has been. Always will be.’ He said, looking at me with scared eyes. His eyes flickered to his wall a few times before he dropped his head. I looked in the direction he had. On his wall, in the shadows, were drawings. I couldn’t see them properly so I got up and walked to them. Most of them were of vampires, werewolves and super heroes but 3 stood out to me. One was a drawing of a boy. Not the boy he was drawing before, someone different. Older. He was no more than 14, clearly drunk. He had his arm around an un-drawn person and a can of vodka in the other. In some ways, the boy was cute… sexy even.
In the corner of the picture, was a scribbled name. Bert. I tore my eyes away from him, perving on Gerard’s dead ex wasn't polite and it kinda crept me out too.
The next picture that caught my eye was a park. That’s all it was. A park, a small gathering of tree’s in the far corner and ferns yet it held my gaze longer than Bert had.
“You’ve been there before.” The voice said, a bored edge to its voice.
“I think I would remember that park. It looks fun.”
“Just believe me, you’ve been there.”
“Why would I believe you?”
“Because I’m truly nice.”
But that park did ring a bell. It was like I had seen it before, not been there. I tore my eyes away from the drawing before I went insane from the mystery of the park.
The last drawing was of another little kid. He sat on a swing, his head back as he laughed. I couldn’t see the kids face properly.
‘This was the week Bert died, my grandma died and…. Well… That’s what I have to tell you.’ Gerard whispered, wringing his hands together. I sat back down in front of him, unwinding his hands and holding them in mine. He looked up at me as I smiled a little.
‘Come on, spit it out. It can’t be that bad.’ I said, rubbing small circles on the back of his hands with my thumbs.
‘I don’t know where to start.’ He said after a while.
‘Start from the beginning.’ I said, still holding his hands. He nodded yet still stayed quiet. I tried not to seem impatient but I was never a patient person. He sighed quietly.
’Do you remember, 10 years ago, going to the park? Another kid coming up and asking to play with you?’ He asked, squeezing my hands. I thought back. I let go of his hands and brought my knees to my chest so I could lean my chin on top.
‘I think so… Vaguely.’ I said, still thinking. I did remember a day like that. It was a cold day so I was rugged up in jackets, scarves and mittens.
‘That kid was me, Frankie. My family went up to see grandma for a week. Our first day there, Dad took me and Mikey to the park because Mum told us to give her and grandma some time together. While Dad played with Mikey on the see-saw, I decided to be a big kid and go to the other side of the park. I saw you on the swings and I wanted to play too. I asked your Mum if I could play with you and she said it was fine.’ He said, looking at the wall. I was speechless, to say the least. My jaw had dropped and I couldn’t pick it up, no matter how much I tried.
‘I remember you fell off the swing and I put you back on…. You didn’t cry, or show any sign of shock or pain.’
‘That was because of all the clothes I was wearing.’ I giggled, still trying to wrap my brain around everything. Gerard laughed a little too.
‘Dad called you over.’ I muttered remembering that part. My father had called him away from me, making Gerard follow him into the bushes.
‘Yes. I knew something was up but I guess I couldn’t see the red alerts and turn back signs in front of me.’ I started running my fingers over the scar on my palm, the raised line that I never remembered getting.
‘I followed him deep into the trees and…’ He stopped, dropping his head. I reached under his bed and pulled out his sketch pad. I flipped through, glancing at the other pictures before I found the one I wanted. I held the drawing up in front of me. Gerard glanced up, looked me in the eye and nodded before putting his head back down. I dropped the book in front of me as my hands started to shake. My breathing hollowed and accelerated like my heart. The room spun, making me feel a little nauseous.
‘Frankie?’ I heard Gerard say but I couldn’t focus on his face.
‘Shit!’ I breathed, trying to get a grip. I felt Gerard’s hand on my waist as he pulled me into his lap. He started to rub my back, whispering in my ear.
‘Calm down, sugar. Come on, calm down.’ He whispered over and over till my breathing regulated after a few minutes. I didn’t lift my head up, the nausea was still there. He kissed my cheek twice, brushing the hair from my face.
‘H-He… Oh g-god!’ I moaned, my head still spinning.
‘Shh… just calm down, Frankie. Everything’s okay.’ He whispered, laying my head on his chest. I curled into him, listening to his steady heart beat.
‘It’s not okay. That’s fucking sick!’ I whispered. I felt Gerard sigh as he stroked my back more.
‘Take a deep breath…. And let it out.’ He said. I did as he asked, breathing in and out a few times. My head stopped spinning and the nausea faded.
‘Now tell me, why on earth did you have a panic attack over that?’ He asked.
“Because I think I like you.”
“Dare you to tell him that.”
‘Because you’re my friend and my father is a fucking rapist.’ I said, trying to ignore the voice.
‘And murderer.’ I heard him whisper. My head began to spin again, my stomach rising into my throat. I jumped up from Gerard’s lap and run up the stairs to the bathroom. I made it just in time as the half digested food spilled out.
‘This is why you have to calm down.’ Gerard said, rubbing my back and holding my hair out of my face as I heaved.
‘What’s going on?’ I heard someone ask. I knew it was Mikey, seeing as he was the only other male, besides Pete, that was in the house.
‘Mikes, can you get some febrodol, neurofon and a glass of water please?’ Gerard asked, still stroking my back.
‘Gerard…’ Mikey started.
‘It’s for Frankie, not me.’ Gerard said, cutting Mikey off. I heard Mikey leave, muttering something on his way. Though my stomach had stopped rebelling, I stayed leant over the toilet, just in case.
‘Feel better now?’
‘Yes and no.’ I said, lifting my head slightly. Gerard gripped the tops of my arms and lifted me to my feet. He steered me to the basin and handed me a face washer as he flushed the toilet.
‘I’m not even going to ask what you had for lunch.’ He muttered, closing the lid. I wiped my mouth with the cloth and dropped it in the sink. Gerard came up behind me and placed his hand on my forehead. I could already feel the heat on my face but it burnt more as I blushed.
‘Frankie, can you lay down for me, please. You’re burning. And don’t worry, the floor is clean.’ He said. I nodded and sunk down. I felt a little better as my face pressed against the cool tiles. Gerard sat next to me, his hand running up and down my side. After a minute or 2, Gerard laid down next to me.
‘Here you go.’ I heard Mikey say as he entered the room. Gerard took the pills from Mikey’s hand and placed the cup of water on the floor. I lifted my upper body up into a half sitting position. Gerard placed the pills on my tongue one at a time, giving me the glass to swallow them. I waited till Mikey left before I said anything.
‘What do you mean my father’s a murderer?’ I asked, opening my eyes to look at him. The pills were kicking in, especially the febrodol.
‘Give me your hand.’ He said. I held my hand out for him. He took it and guided me up his shirt. My heart accelerated slightly. I ran my finger tips over his ribs gently, barely touching his skin. I could feel little dints and bumps where it should have been smooth skin. I looked up at him, confused.
‘He didn’t want me to rat on him… so he tried to murder me. It didn’t work, as you can see.’ He said, still running my fingers up and down his ribs. I pulled my hand away from Gerard’s body and up to my face, tracing the scar on my hand.
‘What’s the matter?’ Gerard asked. I held my palm in front of him. He looked at me, confused like I had.
‘I’ve had this scar since I was little. I could never remember where I got it… till now.’ I said, tracing it once more.
‘I must have tripped when I came after you.’ I whispered, more to myself.
‘You tried to follow us?!’ Gerard yelled, making me jump.
‘Thank fuck you didn’t find us. Frankie, the last thing he said to me was “if someone comes in here, I’ll kill em. Whether it be my son or someone else’s.”’
‘Wait here.’ I said, jumping up. I ran into Mikey’s room and opened my bag. In the front pocket was the one thing my father ever gave to me. his favorite knife. I walked back to the bathroom, holding the knife in my hands. Gerard sat up when I walked in, his eyes wide. I sat down, tracing the patterns and ruby’s on the handle.
‘The day before he went to jail, he gave me this. He said it was his trophy case.’ I handed the knife to Gerard. He took it carefully, tracing the patterns like I had.
‘Open the end of it.’ I said. Gerard did as I said, opening the secret compartment my father showed me. 8 balls rolled into Gerard’s hand. He brought one to his face, turning it slowly. I took one from his hand, rolling it between my fingers till I found what I was looking for.
‘This is yours.’ I said, handing him the ball. Gerard saw the engraving and slid backwards.
‘Sick cunt!’ He growled, dropping the 7 other balls on the floor. One shattered, the blood inside seeping into the tiles.
‘There were millions of these in our old house, all on show in my bedroom. He said they were good luck to him and he wanted me to have them.’ I put the remaining 7 back into the knife, placing it on the floor between us.
‘He killed that many kids?’ Gerard asked, staring at the blood on the floor.
‘No. There was one rack per person, I guess. Each rack held about 50 or so. He ordered them from the most recent. You were his last so your blood was closest to me while I slept.’ I said, also staring at the blood.
‘I knew I’d seen you before.’
‘I wish it had been on better circumstances.’ He whispered, leaning over the gap between us to kiss my cheek. My heart fluttered. I was defiantly falling for him, and I was falling hard.
I'm bored. I'm bored. I'm bored and I have nothing to read. Sing with me!