In 102 Languages I Love You

I never actually knew that a two letter word, with one syllable, having a powerful meaning, could lead to all of this, to this mess, to this destruction. Whenever people think of that simple, yet destructive word, they think of it in a negative way, in the way of rejection, and that's exactly what it meant right now. But my god, you should've seen Frank's face, you should have seen it! I think it hurt me more saying it, then it hurt him soaking up my answer. It was actually a close tie, but I'd like to think I took the trophy in the end. Knowing it hurt me more made me feel a lot better in the situation. Because then I'd be lying to myself, saying Frank wasn't really affected by my answer. But even I knew that was a lie.

The silence that embarked our journey back home had tightened and thickened the atmosphere that it almost made it hard to breathe. It was disturbing, I wanted his voice to pierce through the thick, grubby, air. I could feel his dark pupils burn, and bite away at my skin every few minutes. Without looking at him I knew his eyes darted my way every time he felt like glaring at me with his eyes, possibly trying to tear me apart. I didn't know whether he was more mad, or more sad. I, being a coward, was too afraid to look at the human being I had just rejected. Instead, I kept my focus to my hands placed neatly on my lap, my fingers laced with one another. I knew my hands would only hold my each other for the remaining time I had living. I couldn't let his fingers touch my own. This was all just a mistake.

Answering back at 'Wonder Bar' before his grandfather started playing, was also a mistake. It ruined absolutely everything. When my answer came out of my mouth, he questioned me with a 'What?'. I can still feel the tip of his fingers brushing against my arm, almost completely letting go of my body. Once I repeated myself, I added a sorry along with the no. This is when he stared at me. The music playing in the background I thought would lighten the mood a little, but it didn't. He didn't scoot away from me or anything, he didn't say anything nasty back, I couldn't really expect him to though, being Frank, and all.

Instead, he looked like he was mentally fighting with himself throughout his grandfathers little show. He didn't even ask me why I had said what I had said. I wanted to give him an explanation, I wanted him to understand. I don't think he wanted to understand if he didn't ask why, though. Instead of actually enjoying the show like I had honestly wanted to, I spent my time staring down at the ugly fabric design of the tablecloth. Dust had begun to accumulate in little patches at the edges of the table. By the time his grandfathers little show was over. Older Frank walked over to us, and Frank's mood was coated with a thick curtain of pretending to be happy and content. Inside, I knew he was burning away. The walk back into the car was almost as painful as the ride. He didn't even walk beside me, he drifted behind a bit.

I closed my eyes, inhaling in a shaky breathe. I could hear the motor roaring, the wheels of the car skidding against the cracked roads and the slight blasting of Rap music from the car speeding next to us. I could hear Frank's low, heavy breathing. Without really thinking, my hands reached over to the stereo, pushing the little button that turned on the CD player. There wasn't a need to actually change the CD, because the same CD was always in there. It was too late to do anything when I had realized what I had done. Bastard In Love began playing, and my eyes quickly flew to Frank's face. Our eyes connected as the music played behind our eye tension. He looked away first.



I closed my eyes again, letting the lyrics sink into my flesh, letting it soar around me, letting it take me to another world; a world were I didn't exist, and Frank never needed me. My nails dug into the interior of the seat, just wishing I'd be home soon, wishing to forget about the man beside me. God, why couldn't you just make me healthy? I asked this over and over in my head, to the extent where I could feel tears forming inside my tight shut eyes. I could feel the car slightly slow down, and make a swift turn. I let out my breathe. I was home and safe. My eyes flickered open re-adjusting themselves to my environment only to realize Frank was parking in some parking lot.

"Where are we? This isn't my house!" I said, my voice feeling a bit numb from not speaking in so long. I didn't actually expect him to answer back, but he did.

"We're going to visit Drake, Madison" He said, adding a fierce tone when he called me by my full name and not Maddy. He unbuckled his seat belt, got off his seat, and stepped outside. I mimicked his actions, only to be attacked by a gusty wind.

I was curious, and excited, but right now my curiosity won. I hadn't seen Drake in two full days, so, don't think I wasn't excited to see him, actually I was ecstatic! The only thing that made this odd was that Frank had brought me here, without telling me, after..rejecting him? If you tell me that isn't weird, then I might go crazy.

This time when we walked through the parking lot his pace had quickened, and I was the one left behind limping through a bacteria infested, cold floor. What sparked my next question, wasn't supposed to be said in some type of harsh tone. But as the words left my lips, it just came out that way.

"Why are we here? Why do you wanna see Drake anyway? What's the point of this? You were never good friend's with him" I muttered, trying to quicken my pace.

I almost knocked into him, as he swiftly turned around to look at me. There was rage burning in his pupils. "Listen Madison," He began talking in a cold, harsh tone. "I know you like me. And I know you want to be with me. I know this is the only guy who will come to make you realize that. Who will change your mind and argue with whatever you're thinking up in your little head."

He turned around swiftly, leaving me drenched in shock. I prepared to counter-attack. "Excuse me Frank," I began walking quicker to stop him. "I made my mind up all by myself. G-g-get over it. I-I don't want to be with you. D-Drake's not going to change that.." I said, my voice cracks as my sentence continued.

"Bullshit" he retaliated."You don't want to be with me because you're dying. But Maddy, I told you already, I told you, it's okay. And if I can't make you realize that, he will!" Frank finished as he pushed through the two clear double doors, leading inside to the warm hospital. Did he really want to prove to me that he knew me better then myself? He'd come to a place he hated the most, the hospital, to show me that he knew I really wanted to be with him?

He held the door open for me, and I swear the white part of his eye had began to turn red a little. I mumbled a low "thank you" as I passed by him. He nodded his head as we both made our way up to the counter. He stopped me midway though, taking his warm hands against my freezing wrist.

"Listen, Maddy.." He began closing his eyes shut, looking like he was fighting with himself once more. He exhaled, and his breathe kissed against my cheeks. "H-he made me realize what an idiot I was being for not telling you how I felt. Goddamn it, for not asking you out! I told you how I felt, and you said you felt the same way. Do you honestly, or are you playing with my head?"

I froze in front of him. I couldn't lie to him, not like this. "I do have feelings for you Frank.." I mumbled, looking away from his face.

His fingers against my wrist tightened. "Then why don't you want be..with me?" He asked, almost pleading.

I shook my head lightly. "I-I c-ca-"

I didn't finish my sentence. Instead I felt fumes build up inside him once more. He turned around, his hands still wrapped around my wrist, as he guided our bodies to the counter. Behind stood a young looking woman, probably in her mid twenties.

"Can I help you?" She asked politely, grabbing a clipboard from a drawer.

"We're here to see Drake Calhoun." Frank responded, not loosening his fingers around my wrist at all.

The nurse's fingers sped through the keyboard, typing in his name, making click and clack sounds as she pressed down each key. I thrusted my head back, letting small cracks mimic her keyboarding key's sound as my bones cracked. I watched the woman's facial expression change from content, to confused, to mildly worried, or sympathetic, I couldn'te tell.

"I'm sorry.." She began, "Drake Calhoun passed away this morning."

And that's when my world came tumbeling down.