Frank wakes up and goes home (not much happens in this chapter, sorry)
“What’s that doing there?” I muttered under my breath.
Slightly dazed I tried to figure out why the hell I was waking up with my head under a bin downtown when I should be safely in my bed at home. I rubbed my neck to ease the stiffness. To my horror I felt a sharp pain, and looking at my hand, realised that I was bleeding. There were two small puncture marks in my throat
“Fuck!” The strange events that had occurred the night before came flooding back to me. What if the freak was still around here somewhere? Oh shit… Scrambling to my feet as fast as I could, I ran all the way home.
The atmosphere in my house was tense, as per usual. My mum tore her eyes away from her daytime TV show to shout at me.
“What do you think you're doing!? Where have you been all night!?”
I didn’t know what to say. If told her what had really happened she obviously would think I was mental. I stood, opening and shutting my mouth like a damn gold fish for about ten minutes.
“If you cant even be bothered to think up a story for why your soooo late home you can go to your room!” Her disappointment was obvious in her voice. I could tell she was thinking about my dad, and how this wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t left…
I sulked up the stairs to my room and fell onto my bed. Fingering the two cuts on my neck I wondered aloud – “what the fuck was with that guy?” My terrier – Pansy, glanced at me with cynical eyes. Great, even she thought I was insane! I guess I lay there for about an hour, staring up at the patterns of globs of paint on the badly plastered ceiling. Killing time. I rolled over.
Strangely, I heard the sound of paper crumpling – I sat up and stared at the envelope lying on my faded blue bed sheets. How the hell did that get there?
Opening it with shaking fingers I read:
I’m so fucking sorry for what I did last night.
Please forgive me.
Who the hell was G?