Beyond Belief

I watched him run towards his destination, an old run-down record store that looked like if you breathed on it just a little bit to hard it would crumble to the ground. His ‘boss’, as he called him; was a plump, slightly balding, man whose face was mostly always red. He seemed to only have two volumes of voice: loud and louder. Frankly his voice hurt my sensitive ears, and by the looks of it it hurt Franks ears as well. I didn’t like the way he talked to Frankie; he talked to him as if he were lesser then the beetles that roamed in the cracks and crevices of that very building.

The odd sound of what the humans thought was ‘music’ blasting snapped me out of my thoughts of ending that horrid mans life. Frank began busying himself with trivial everyday chores; he stacked the shelves with the albums full of noise, and cleaned the forever dirtying record store while talking to himself as if there were others there.

It was peaceful really. He was such a normal person; even though others thought differently about him. He began silently singing to himself, so silently other humans would not hear him; but only see his beautiful lips move slowly to unheard melodies. What a gorgeous boy. Dancing and singing silently to music only heard in his unique mind.

I sighed; wishing I could interact openly with such a dazzling creature as he. I wondered how it would go. If he would talk to me, or if he would ignore me like all the humans ignored him. What a magnificent thought, his voice directed at me. Maybe he would explain the concept of the noise humans seem so fond of, the reasons behind this so called ‘music’. I bet he would fill me in on all the things that elude me, all the things that humans do that confuse me so. I know he would. He’s intelligent. The most unbelievable human ever created. I would teach him the real meaning of music. I would show him how to really see things. I would enlighten him as he never has before. I would. I know I would. And he would be happy. Only I can make him happy. Only I.

His ‘cell phone’ went off, deafening me by shrieking the noise that I hate so much.

“City morgue! You kill ’em, we chill ’em!” he said into the small device.

I was confused by what he meant. I wanted so badly to just go up to him and ask what a “City morgue” is. Instead I sat outside the record shop staring contently at him, listening to his conversation with what sounded like a female human by the sound of the high pitched shrill voice that came from the ‘cell phone’ he held tightly in his hand.

“Are you at work still?” the annoying female voice sounded from the device.

“Yes Jamia.” Franks almost robotic voice answered.

“You’re not at some skanks house cheating on me are you?” the woman asked venomously.

“No Jamia.” Frank’s robotic voice answered again.

“You better not be lying to me, Frank!” the woman whose voice was beginning to hurt my ears, yelled.

“God, Jamia!” Frank yelled in frustration.

“Don’t you get snippy with me, Frank! I’m your girlfriend and if you’d like to keep it that way then you better straighten up!” she yelled.

A man walked into the record store and right away found an album of noise, walking up to the counter where my beautiful Frank was standing; his face frowning, distorted because of that woman.

“You know what, Jamia? I gotta go. I’ve got a customer to take care of and some people gotta work, you know.” he said before shutting the phone, hanging up on the aggravating woman.

Frank sighed, massaging his temples, then looked up at the customer; slapping on a fake smile.

“How may I help you, sir?” he asked in a fake, happy voice that actually made me cringe.

The man slide the CD over to Frank, who then scanned it. After receiving the money owed, put the CD into a bag and watched the man walk out of the store.

“I hate my life.” Frank said silently; thinking only he, himself heard it. But he was wrong. I heard it too.