The Missing Frame

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

“Hey, girl. Are you alright?” my friend Melanie looks to me, her bright blue eyes concerned as they have been for a few weeks now.

She looks beautiful as always with her curly hair down, bangs straight, favorite Avenged Sevenfold hoodie on, blue jeans and her hot pink and black skate shoes.

“Yeah…I’m fine,” I smile, and pull on my jacket sleeves.

I never leave without my jacket; at school, I simply feel naked without it.

I feel like someone might see me for who I really am.

“Dude, you will not believe how manly the fucking pitcher was at my softball game last night!” she proceeds, obviously changing the subject.

“How manly was she?” I laugh; I can’t help it.

Melanie always makes me smile.

“More manly than Gerard’s wife?” pips up my other best friend Ily.

Ily has never had one hair color for longer than a few weeks, but at this time, it is purple.

It makes her hunter green eyes pop, along with the red eyeliner she applies daily.

She is wearing her My Chemical Romance hoodie, jeans and a pair of black shoes with polka dots with a dog on the bottom of the shoes.

Her rocket dog shoes, as she calls them.

“Well, not in the leg area, but in the arms and shoulders! She could have crushed me like a soda can or something!” Mel exclaims.

She then continues to describe how fast the girl threw and how the game ended, fellow team mates’ injuries, etc.

“Where’s Morgan?” Mel inquires, leaning her head to Morgan’s usual seat in Art.

“I don’t know. I thought I saw her this morning,” I say.

“She’s prolly stuck up her boyfriend’s ass…As usual,” I can hear the skepticism in Mel’s voice.

Morgan is hard to explain, except for she’s always with her boyfriend and makes the rest of us feel like we’re just her psychiatrists.

Because of Morgan’s drama, it is hard for me to come to my friends.

I am afraid they will get sick of my drama and ditch me.

I take out my water color assignment with a shake of my head.

It pains me to look upon it as I am now.

“Why don’t you do something else?” Mel looks at me, that knowing look makes me feel bad.

“I’m almost done with it…And besides, I can always leave it for Mrs. Taylor to keep,” I suggest.

Secretly, I want it because it is the last thing I have of him.

Even though I have drawn it, it looks like him.

I have been planning on giving it to him as a gift, but then we broke up, and now I am stuck with a drawing of a guy who had been my everything.

Almost three days after we split, I burned his letters and his picture.

I wanted to burn everything of his, but couldn’t bear it.

So I have a shirt of his and his hat.

I stare down at the shirt of his that I have, and smile.

At least it is Avenged Sevenfold; otherwise, it probably would have been burned too.

“Cause I really always knew that my little crime would be cold that’s why I gotta heater for your thighs, and I know…I know it’s not your time, but bye bye,” sings the TV screen as he and I watch an Avenged Sevenfold DVD that my best friend Angel had gotten for me.

The lead guitarist, Synyster Gates, makes a weird gesture with his hand near his “area” and he laughs at him.

“He’s a fucking genius,” he tells me.

“And just think…One of these days, you’ll be just like him,” I kiss him with a smile.

“Yeah…I doubt that but I’m gonna have a band, baby. I’m gonna be famous and I’m gonna make kick ass music videos,” he nuzzles my neck with his mouth.

“Mmm, I bet you will. You’re a strange individual,” I tease.

“I’m gonna write you a song too,” he whispers.

How I wish I could have listened to it.


“Laken? Hey, are you alright?” Mel waves a hand in front of my face.

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine,” I stand up with a smile and go to get a paint brush, pallet, and water bowl, along with a few paper towels.

I know they are whispering behind me, whispering how worried they are about me.

I hate it.

I appreciate their concern, but I hate it at the same time.

Because of him, I hate pity.

“Hey, baby?” he turns over on his side on my bed, his face inches from mine.

“Yeah?” I look into his eyes.

“I’m not gonna force you, or rush you…But can we try to have sex?” he takes a piece of my hair, his fingers long and lanky, artist’s fingers.

Then he cups the right side of my face in one of his large hands.

“Right now?” I whisper.

“Yeah…We won’t get caught…We’re just gonna try it,” he says, his eyes on mine.

I think to myself of the times Mom had begged me to wait until marriage.

“It’s really not as great as everyone says, honey. I’m not saying you will do anything, but please…Wait until you’re married,” is what she always said to me.

Could I do it?

Was it anything at all like the books I had read?

Just a little pain and then a world of ecstasy?

“Can we, baby?”

I take a deep breath, and then slowly nod.

“Are you sure?” he leans up on one elbow.

I nod again, my head down.

Could I do this?

What would my friends think?

Ily would never do something like this and Mel is still a virgin.

“Look at me.”

I am scared to look at him.

I know I look terrified but I want to make him happy and I honestly want to.

“Baby,” he takes my chin with his thumb and forefinger and pulls my face up.

“We don’t have to if you’re not ready,” he says, his gray blue eyes tender, his red hair messy as it always was.

“I want to,” I tell him, kissing him gently.

With shaky hands, I remove my pants and panties.

He unbuckles his jeans and takes down his boxers.

When we are ready, his mouth is by my ear.

“Are you scared too?” he is trembling.

“Yes…” I look into his eyes though, and I see all the love he has for me.

“I love you,” I say.

“ I love you too, baby….Are you ready?”

I nod and hug him to me.

He presses in and at first, I feel nothing.

Suddenly, there is a quiet pop and I give a tiny cry.

I am not hurting, but it is a startling feeling.

“Okay, no more…” he pulls away and zips back up.

“Go to the bathroom, baby. See if you’re okay,” he is close to freaking out.

I enter the bathroom, my heart Is louder than thunder.

I feel down there and bring my hand back.

There is blood.

How long was I going to bleed?

I am calm, but still afraid.

I get a pad and put it on; perhaps it is like a period and there won’t be anything to worry about.

“Are you okay?” he asks when I return to my bed.

I settle into his arms.

“Yeah, I’m alright,” I promise.

How fast the time flies when you’re so certain your future will always be happy.


“You know something, Laken?”

I look to his best friend Brendon, a big guy, broad shoulders, large arms, a huge ego.

“What?” I always talk to him for some reason; he visits me at home several times a week.

Brendon tends to be there for me more than Mitch and my attempted friendship has let Mitch be.

“How often did you and Mitch fuck?”

I am shocked at Brendon’s question.

He has never been known to be shy with words, but this is different.

He normally just asks me how I’m holding up and how my life is…

Blah, blah, blah.

“What makes you think we even did anything?” I retort, not sure if I can give him a straight answer.

His dark brown eyes are twinkling, and a grin rests on his mouth.

“Oh c’mon…What do you think we are? Stupid? What else do you two do in a room alone?”

“We talk, of course,” I say, unable to meet his eyes.

“Sure…Talking…You guys must have some serious conversations,” he laughs.

“I don’t know. I just feel like fucking anyone and everyone,” I say.

With everything I have, I just want a distraction.

I want a replacement and fast.

Someone else that can free my mind from his memories for only a moment or a few hours.

“Go find ya someone,” he advises, “plenty of dick for ya.”

“Sure…Who knows? I may do ten guys this week,” I wonder what it might be like to actually be like the whores at my school.

“Ten?” Brendon runs a hand through his dark hair.

“Yeah…” I wonder if I should even be saying this.

“Can I be one of those ten?”

Now I am almost certain my panties were shocked off of me.

“Do what?” I look to him with wide eyes.

“Can I be one of the ten?” he repeats the question.

I don’t see how he can be so serious.

I should let him be one of the ten.

And suddenly…

A plan is in my mind, twisting around my brain.

“Yeah.”

This will be foul proof; this could bring Mitch down to my level of anxiety.

This will crush him just like he crushed me.
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:)