Skin and Bones

I actually finished the project rather quickly. I even read it over twice, ‘cause I thought I missed something, but I don’t think I did.
Maybe I work better when I’m afraid to leave my room.

I put the ten pieces of paper I’ve written – front and back – in my backpack. I’m hoping that my mom will leave either tonight or tomorrow morning, so that I can keep my promise to Mikey.
But then again, I don’t want her to leave. When she leaves, she drinks.
I want my mommy back.

Suddenly I hear a loud clatter from downstairs. I hear the distinct sound of metal against the floor. She’s in the kitchen – searching, I’m sure.

I stand still in the middle of my room – praying that she’ll find nothing and give it up completely. She’s done it before.

When she first started drinking – after dad left – she got herself out of it after a month. It was a long time, but this – now? I just know it’s gonna last longer than that.

I final clatter rungs through my floorboards. Then everything goes silent.
I stand perfectly still – just listening.

With each silent moment that passes by, I feel more and more hope building in my stomach. She could be stopping. She could be sitting on the floor right now – crying and regretting her choices.

Suddenly I hear a loud thump, and I jump – my feet almost lifting off the floor, but luckily staying put and silent.
The front door slams, and a few seconds after I hear the car door open and then slam shut.
My stomach drops.
When the engine starts, all hope that I had is lost.
Only half of my prayer got answered.

After 5 minutes of complete silence, I pick up my backpack and run out of the house.
I need to hurry.

When I turn the corner – away from my street – I’m already out of breath.
I look down the road behind me – making sure my mom’s car is nowhere near. I then look ahead.
She’s gone.

I suppress my tears and keep running down the main street.
I turn the corner and slow down my pace. I need my pulse to be somewhat normal once I reach the Way household.

I suddenly notice the air. It’s wet. It’s fresh and crisp. I inhale deeply through my nose, but my inhale gets cut in half.
I stop dead in my tracks.
My ribs. My bruises.
My cheek.
They’ll see it. They’ll be worried.
I need an excuse – a good one. No walking into a door or obviously fake crap like that.
How would I get such a bad gash?
A fight?
Yeah, a fight. I got beaten up – badly! Some bullies beat me up!
That is so believable! I mean, come on! We live in fucking Jersey!

I start walking again – seeing the Way’s brown house with the faded front-lawn. Surprisingly, it looked better than my house.
I quickly make it to the front door and ring the doorbell.

I keep repeating my excuse in my head – just to make sure I won’t fuck it up.
Beaten up by a gang. No, wait; bullies. Beaten up by bullies. If you get beaten up by a Jersey gang, they wouldn’t let you get away with just a bruised rib and a gash in your cheek.
So; beaten up by bullies. 3 or 4 of them. One of them wore a ring and punched me and then kicked me after I fell to the ground.

The door swings open.

“Frank?” Mrs. Way asks – sounding surprised. Her face soon falls, though.
“What happened to you, sweety?” She reaches a hand out towards my cheek, and I instinctively flinch away.
Guilt swirls through my stomach.

“I- I’m okay. It’s nothing. Just a gang.” No! Bullies! Fuck!
She frowns deeply, as she keeps studying my cheek.

“It must’ve been a very tired gang.” Fuck! She’s seen right through my fucking lie and now she’s gonna cross-examine me and get me to tell the truth and ruin my life – ruin my mom’s life.
“We should really get that cleaned.” I can’t let her take me away from my mom. I need her. She needs me! And most of all: if I get placed in some foster home a billion miles away – heck, even just two miles away – I wouldn’t get to see Mikey and Gerard!
“Come on in sweety.” Please don’t take me away?
I follow her inside and into the living room.
“Just sit down. I’ll go grab the disinfectant.” I walk over to the couch and quietly – carefully – sit down and put my backpack on the floor beside my feet.
Shit! I’m still wearing my shoes.

I quickly get up and walk into the hallway. I step on my heels and get my shoes off quickly, before I push them off to the side.

“Frank?” I turn towards the sound. On top of the stairs, Mikey is standing – looking a bit confused.
I forgot to text him!
“I didn’t know you were coming.” Stupid! Fuck! How can I forget everything? Why do I screw up every little thing up?!

“Frank?” Mrs. Way calls from the living room behind me.
I turn around.
“Come on sweety. Don’t mind the shoes. It’s no big deal.” Her smile is so kind and I can’t help but return it.
I flinch and wince.
My cheek burns.

“What happened, Frank?” Mikey’s coming down the stairs towards me.
I suddenly feel afraid. Even though Mrs. Way smiles at me so kindly, and Mikey is my best friend – caring and worried about me – I can’t help but feel scared and… I don’t know. Afraid!

“Frank?” I look down the hall alongside the stairs. Gerard. His beautiful hair is damp and he’s wearing loose sweat pants and a loose t-shirt. He looks so damn hot.
His face looks shocked.
“Are you okay? What happened to your cheek?” I swallow – trying to get rid of the fear that seems to be ripping my stomach, chest and throat apart, but it only creates more.
Gerard starts walking towards me, and suddenly it all just becomes too much. I feel so claustrophobic – so caved in.
I take a step backwards.

“Frank?” I turn my head and suddenly notice Mikey is at the bottom of the stairs – very close to me.
I take a few steps to the side – slamming against the front door.
“Frank, what’s going on? What’s the matter?” Mikey keeps walking closer to me – horrifyingly slow.

Gerard’s pace is faster – more terrifying.

Suddenly Mrs. Way comes out into the hallway from the living room.
This is too much. They’re gonna notice. They’re gonna ask and figure it all out and have me taken away from the only person who hasn’t left me yet! Another person will leave my life – and it’ll be my fault.
The three keep moving closer.
And closer.
And closer.

I turn around, rip the door open and sprint out of the opening. I pass Mr. Way as I sprint down their wet pathway and to the street. I can feel the water seeping through my socks. The coldness of the water sends shivers up my spine.

I hear Gerard yell behind me, but I keep running. I can’t let them get me. I can’t let them take me away. I can’t let them tear me away from my mom.

I turn a corner and run down the main street. My socked feet are completely soaked from running along the puddle-filled sidewalk. The wind is whipping my hair all around – sometimes in my face so I can barely see where I’m going. All I know is that I’m getting away.

I turn the corner and run down my street. I can see my house – no car.

Suddenly I slow down. I lose my speed more and more and soon, I’m down to a brisk walk.
What did I just do? Why did I just run?

I bow my head and look down at my wet socks and wet cuffs of my pants.
I must’ve looked so stupid. I probably still look stupid.
I look up and notice that I’ve walked past my house.
What’s happening to me? What happened?