Give 'Em Hell, Kid

Frank’s P.O.V

As I walked towards my house (I have to admit I had a little trouble finding it) I thought about that Helena-chick. I both hoped and didn’t hope she was in High School and if she was; the same High School I’m attending. I hoped because I’d have someone to have a smoke with during recess (which may keep the assholes away), and I didn’t hope because I was afraid to get too attached if I spent time with her. We’re probably going to move again soon. I’ll give this place two months and then I’m positive I’ll have to pack all my stuff… again.

When I walked through the front door of our new house my mom greeted me with a hug.
“What was that for?” I was confused.

“I’m just glad you’re okay” She replied, and I rolled my eyes.

“Seriously mom, we’re not exactly living in the ghetto, I’m sure it’s not as dangerous here as you think. I didn’t see anyone while I was out” Ok, I lied, but if I mentioned the girl I met she’d start to mock me, something I hated.

“Oh I know, my darling. But still” She kissed my cheek, another thing I hated, and then she stormed back into the kitchen. The kitchen was her favorite room; she loved to cook and spent most of her day doing exactly that.

I went down the hallway and into my room. I actually liked my room for once; it wasn’t too big and not too small. The walls were painted black, and it didn’t have any windows. Just the way I wanted my room to be. I didn’t have a bed though, just a mattress on the floor, but I didn’t really mind given that I rarely slept.

I lit another cigarette and sat down in a corner (emo much?), just thinking about how the next day would be. Go to school, have a class or two, being pushed around, having a smoke, having another class or two, being pushed around, having a smoke, go home, having a smoke, eat dinner, go out, having a smoke. Well, you get the picture. Unless Helena’s there, it could make it better. I think.