Ribs

Frankie had ribs.
Too many, I’d say.
It wasn’t normal, to have that many; visible to the eye. It just wasn’t.

He had the same amount as a normal human being, of course he did, you just wouldn’t think so if you saw him.

Twenty four of them one after the other; twelve on his left, twelve on his right. You could count them with your eye, sometimes through his shirt.

Frankie had skin too; just enough to clothe each and every rib, nothing between the cover and the bone. I was surprised he could ever lift a table spoon or a pencil.

Frankie had veins, bumps covering the barely there and pale skin, you could see them too, blue and purple taking un-nutritioned blood to and from his weak heart and where ever else it was needed to be to prove that he was still alive, that he wasn’t the Halloween costume, the zombie or the skeleton, that you may think of him the first time you see him.

It scared me.

It scared everyone.

We didn’t know what to do.

My fingers bounced, fumbled and jumped where they should have run smoothly along the length of your exposed chest. Your heart beat was almost visible through your skin, you had just admitted to me that your heart belonged to me when I noticed it, but I didn’t want to see it. Not through your skin. It scared me. That’s why I only answered with “You need help.”

Your eyes filled up, I remember it. They filled up and over flowed, making me feel guilty for ever saying anything. Ever saying anything that wasn’t a heartfelt comeback to the one you had just given me.

I wasn’t sure how to compliment a skeleton, or a zombie though.

You needed to be held now, that’s all you wanted at that moment, but I couldn’t wrap my arms around you, I just couldn’t do it; the thought scared me. You’d break, I was almost certain of it. Snap, right in my arms.

You nodded; you knew why I wouldn’t hold you, why I could barely touch you. You knew I was scared of you. Terrified of what could happen.

I didn’t see you again after that night, I left, and I never looked back. I could bear going through what could happen. What was almost inevitable.

I didn’t want to see you dissolve into nothing. You were practically there anyway. I couldn’t face it, I just wouldn’t.

Frankie had ribs.
Most likely still has them.

I don’t know where he went.

Maybe he actually got help?
Maybe something bad happened?

I wouldn’t know; I haven’t seen him in years. Too long, too many years.

I often think of him, of his hollow eyes and skinny, skinny arms. It was awkward to hug him. I often thought of what we could have been if he hadn’t been sent away. I often wonder what drove him to do what he did in the first place.

There are a lot of things I wonder.

Who knows if I’ll ever find out?