I Don't Want A Bloody Dad!

Like He Could See The Future

[[No one’s pov.]]
Bob and Gerard were standing watch with him. Waiting for him to wake up.
He had collapsed in Gerard’s kitchen that day, which was roughly 3 days ago now, and he hasn’t woken up since. They’d all started to worry about him.
“Dude what if he doesn’t wake up?”
“Of course he’s going to fucking wake up Bob. It’s Frank we’re talking about here.”
“Yeah but Gerard, it’s been three days.”
Mikey came into the room, weary eyed and fell into a seat nearby Frank’s bed.
“Any change folks?”
Bob turned to him, “Nope.”
“Damn,” Mikey said as he slouched into the seat and curled up.
Gerard glanced over to his brother, “Tired Mikes?”
Mikey opened up one eye and looked up to his brother, “Yeah. Just spent 19 hours straight with Scarlet. Need sleep.”
“Any change with her?”
“Not a thing man.”
The men looked downhearted as they all looked to Frank’s bed, expecting some sort of miracle to take place in front of them.
But of course, miracles aren’t real.
Everyone knows that.

Just then, as the 3 men looked away, Frank jolted up in the bed. Sweating, panting, and looking delirious.
The guys rushed to his bed.
“Mikey, go get the others.”
“But Gerard, he’s woken up! I want to see him.”
“NOW MICHAEL!”
Mikey rushed out the door, and was shortly followed in by Jamia and Alicia.
Bob saw them, “Where’s Toro?”
“With Scarlet.”
Frank was jerking his head around madly in the bed, looking kind of out of it.
Jamia made her way to his bed and knelt beside it. “Babe? Frank? Thank god you’re awake!”
She reached out for his hand, but he snatched it away.
“Where is it?”
They all looked puzzled.
“Where’s what Frankie?” Jamia asked him.
“The body.”
The others looked to each other. What was he talking about?
“What body Frank?”
Frank stared into Gerard’s eyes. It was him who asked.
“I have to go now.”
Frightened glances were exchanged between them, as they all looked at Frank in bewilderment. And fear.
And with that, Frank climbed out of bed silently. And began for the door.
The others turned to see him.
“Where are you going Frank?” Mikey asked.
“To get ready.”
“For what?”

Frank stared back at them. His friends, his fiancée. There was a look in his eyes. Almost like he was haunted, by images he should never have seen. By things he should never have heard.
By memories the others knew not of.
His eyes were glazed, reliving these things. His eyes. Did he have some sort of hidden knowledge of what was to come?
Like he could see the future, and it was bad.
“The funeral.”
And with that, he walked out. Leaving the others to ponder over his words.