Frank's Last Words

She didn’t give a shit what she looked like.

Everyone was looking at her, she could feel their eyes boring into her but looking at the way she was dressed she wasn’t surprised because she just didn’t care anymore. She was wearing her black jeans; well they were her oldest pair, the ones with the hole in the knee. On top, zipped right up she had on Gerard’s hoody, the one he’d lent her at the hospital.

She always had meant to give it back.

In the pocket she felt one of Gerard’s many lighters that he’d left there and she turned it over and over, anxiously.

In her other hand she held a bouquet of peach coloured roses, their scent strong under her nostrils. She held on tightly to them waiting for the moment when she could throw them onto the coffin as it got lowered into the ground, never to be seen again.

Her hands were so very cold even though she wore fingerless black woollen gloves.

His gloves. Franks.

The ones he’d worn so often.

Her mother had found them in her guest room.

Suddenly she felt her mother’s arm link through hers and whisper into her ear, her breath warm in the freezing air. “Are you OK sweetheart?”

But Lily couldn’t answer because she couldn’t really do anything, she couldn’t function that well at the moment, she couldn’t sleep, eat or think straight. It had all got too much for her.

And it was all her fault.

The priest was droning on and on but she couldn’t even listen, didn’t want to hear his ramblings, she just glanced about her at all the faces, some of them crying, some not. A few she recognised but many, many she didn’t.

But she didn’t care who they were because she didn’t give a shit right now.

The priest was still droning and the coffin was being lowered so she suddenly decided to throw the roses and sat a silent goodbye.

Looking up, she was being watched for having thrown them early because no one else had done so.

”Its OK Lily,” she heard Tre’s voice the other side of her, comforting.

They were all staring, glaring, and just looking and that’s when she turned tail and ran, ran back to the limo that was lined up with three others alongside the cemetery gates. She glanced back once to see them all dressed the same in their smart black funeral clothes and she hated them all at that moment.

“I need to go home,” she said to the chauffer.

But then what?

**

On the drive back home the driver took her past the hospital as a stray a tear escaped her eye but she didn’t brush it aside, just let it fall onto Gerard’s hoody.

Then the car slowed because of the build up of traffic, just as they drove past the dance school, the wrought iron gates so familiar to her swinging in the wind, the building looming tall in front of her as she glanced up.

The place where it had happened, not that long ago but it sometimes seemed like ages to her but it was only a week after all.

Glancing up she saw the familiar sign: Madame Zola’s School of Dance.

Poor Madame Zola, thought Lily, remembering the wonderful, inspiring woman who had taught her so much in life, the old lady that was no longer here because she was being buried right now and she’d ran out on her, had left her to be buried but Lily was sure that Madame Zola would understand.

Yes, she was sure she would understand that she just had to get away and suddenly, as the car sped on leaving the dance school behind Lily knew where she was going to go.

**

Her mother and Tre wouldn’t be back yet so she had time to do what she needed to do. She packed up a few things then she called up the airline.

While she waited for a taxi to come and collect her she wrote two letters, one to her mother, which she left on the kitchen table and one to Frank, which she also left on the table, knowing her mother would see it and do what she had to do.

She heard the taxi’s horn bleep a few times so she checked herself in the mirror. She looked disgusting, she’d never looked this bad, her hair lank and greasy, her face pasty, her body thinner than she’d even known it but she knew she had to get away from here.

And her father’s was a good a place as any.

**

“So she’s gone to be with her father,” said Caroline slumping on the sofa, Lily’s letter in her hand. “I’m surprised.”

“I’m not,” said Tre coming to sit alongside her. “It’s been a rough time for her lately.”

“But…her father?” Said Caroline slight disappointment showing in her voice.

“Lets see it from Lily’s point of view after the time she’s had she probably just feels the need to get away. It’d be good for her to see her father Carrie, you know it too.”

Caroline sighed. “I know, just after the way he walked out on us and hardly hearing from him…”

“But you didn’t love him, you told me this Carrie,” Tre said bringing her in close to him, “perhaps he sensed this. That’s why he did what he did.”

“May be you’re right.” She said leaning into Tre, so happy that he was here but wishing her daughter was too. She hoped she’d be OK.

“So…what else does she say, does she say anything about Frank in her letter?” Asked Tre.

“Listen, I’ll read it to you,” said Carrie, and she began.

Dear Mom (and Tre)

I’m sorry I ran out on you at the funeral but I couldn’t stand there any longer, everything has got to me and I need time to think and may be being away from everyone will help.

You’re not going to like this but I’m going to Dads. I’ve called him up and I’ve booked a flight so it’s done. Funny, he sounded so pleased to hear from me and I’m looking forward to seeing him again and to seeing his other family and my half sister.

Please understand Mom, I need to do this. I’ve left a letter for Frank could you, well, you’ll know what to do with it.

I love you and will text you when I arrive.

And could you keep an eye on the construction for me. I can’t bear to go back there until it’s complete.

Lily x

“I wonder what she’s written in her letter to Frank,” said Tre.

“I know and I wonder if he’ll ever be well enough to read it.” Replied Caroline, snuggling deeper into her man.

**

On the flight to London Lily could do nothing but stare out of the window and reflect on the events of the past week. She didn’t want to think about them but her mind had other ideas some of the thoughts were a bit blurry and some so clear she’d never forget them.

She remembered the gunshots and glancing over at Zach lying dead, his eyes wide open and staring, staring at her and then Tre and Frank laying on the floor and then police and paramedics coming rushing into the room not before she’d glanced at her Frank and had seen him lying there, white faced and lifeless.

Then they’d taken him away on a stretcher in the back of an ambulance and all she could remember was watching his face, still and motionless as he got taken away from her.

Later, after being taken to the hospital with her mother and Tre who only had a few bruises from his fall she remembered being told that Zach had shot twice at Frank, one bullet skimming the side of his brain and the other going into his chest, missing vital organs but causing tremendous blood loss. He was in a coma and they’d have to wait and see how he responded, that’s all they could do.

Wait.

That’s all they could do? She remembered wailing in front of the doctor, trying to push past him to see Frank, his parents and grandparents watching her but not talking to her as her mother and Tre held onto her, willing her to calm herself.

Calm herself?

How could she? She’d done this, it was all her fault and she was sure that his parents and grandparents felt so too. If only she hadn’t got involved with Frank then none of this would have happened. She may be would have married Zach anyway, would have got on with life and there would be no Frank for him to have been jealous of.

So it was her fault and everyone knew it and that’s what she kept on thinking.

It was hours before she was allowed in to see him; his family went in first and spent so long with him. She could hear his mother crying and calling out his name, making her feel even more guilty.

And all the time Tre and her mother were with her, comforting her or trying to comfort her.

And then she was led into see him, alone.

He was lying there, his small body surrounded by wires and bleeping machines, his head with a bandage around it, his dark hair poking out from underneath and she couldn’t believe that he wasn’t awake, this guy, beautiful in sleep couldn’t wake up, this guy that was usually so full of energy was just lying there and it shocked her so much.

Going to him she sat next to him, his dark eyelashes resting on his sallow coloured skin, his brightly coloured tattoos still looking strangely alive on his still body and she willed him to wake up, willed him to open his brown eyes but he couldn’t and she wondered if he ever would.

And so it went on for two more days, she visited on her own after his parents had gone and stayed with him for hours but still no change and she found it so difficult watching him laying there. Gerard and the guys came by sometimes, giving her hugs and encouraging her, not blaming her at all but she couldn’t face Frank’s parents, knowing what they probably thought of her, doing this to her son.

On the third day she heard devastating news of Madame Zola’s death from a heart attack during the night, an old lady, all alone and this just tipped Lily over the edge so when she visited Frank on that third day she brought a small bouquet of peach coloured roses and got the nurse to put them in a vase next to his bedside, sat alongside him and hugged his still body, tears falling onto him remembering how he’d immediately put his strong arms around her but there was nothing, there was no response from his lifeless body and it hurt like hell.

“I love you Frank,” she said, “and I’m so very very sorry.” She said breathing in the scent of his skin but even that was different, it smelled of hospital soap, not his usual smell.

Standing up alongside him she picked up his hand, kissing his Halloween fingers gently and tenderly. Placing his hand back on the bed she turned and walked out of the hospital room and didn’t look back. On the way home she put a note in the mail to his family.

I don’t know what to say except that I’m sorry I brought this to your door but I’ve made a decision and I can’t visit Frank anymore, its too emotional and painful for me. I hope you understand but for me, seeing him like that is devastating. Please contact me if there is any change at all.

Best wishes and once again, I’m so very sorry.

Lily x

So that was days ago and she hadn’t heard anything from his family so presumed there was no change in him. She’d not visited him since that day but she’d also hardly eaten, hardly slept and hadn’t taken care of herself until at Madame Zola’s funeral she realised she couldn’t stay around here wondering if Frank would ever wake up.

“Excuse me,” said a voice, one of the female stewardesses that had frowned at the way she’d looked when she’d boarded the plane. “Please could you place your rubbish in here and not on the floor.” She said in an aloof manner.

Fuck you. Thought Lily as she picked up her cardboard coffee carton that had accidentally just dropped onto the floor. You stupid looking bitch with your false nails and overly made up face, I could strangle you right now with your ridiculous stripy uniform scarf. Fuck you.

she handed the cardboard cup to the stewardess and didn’t fail to notice her look disgustedly at Frank’s fingerless gloves that she was still wearing and her stomach sank.

Reminding her.

She wondered if he'd ever wear them again.

She couldn’t imagine life going on without him in this world she thought as she glanced back out of the window into nothingness.