Like Ghosts In The Snow

I was a zombie when I walked down to breakfast that next morning. My dad called to me as I slept as peacefully as I could, to make him some damned breakfast so he could leave. It was only six thirty in the morning, and at this point I was slaved over the stove and making some bacon. My father was in the other room talking on the phone to some man, which he had been talking to for weeks now. Frank was the one that brought it to my interest. Frank was worried about it, but I had just passed it off as nothing.

“It’s done, sir,” I spoke to him as I piled his food onto the plate before walking to the dining room to place the food on the table. I heard him huff from the other room in acknowledgement.

I cleaned the dishes so I wouldn’t get called down as soon as I had gone back up the stairs. And when I was finally completely done, I walked up to the library and locked the door. I barricaded myself into the library now everyday since the happening. Since Frank had left me. It calmed me to believe that even if I did not see him or sense him, that there was just that possibility that he was watching me.

I did not do much but read the occasional book and sit in the chamber. That was all I could honestly do, really. That and think about how I could get back at Frank’s dad for what he had done. But truly, if it weren’t for that cruel, cold-hearted man, I would have never met Frank. And at this point, I was completely emotionally drained that I had not wanted to seek revenge on that man. Frank was happy now, and that was all that I ever wanted. But if I were to come face to face with that man, Lord knows what I would do to him.

“I miss you Frankie,” I whispered out into the quiet air of the room. I waited, but I had gotten nothing of a reply. But that was just everything that I had suspected.

I sighed and pulled a book down from the shelf. It had caught my eye, for it wasn’t like the others, it was black and had cursive writing on the front. It had read, ‘Frank Iero’ in the small cursive writing. I couldn’t help but have a wide Cheshire grin play upon my lips as I walked with the book over to the small chair in the corner of the room.

“October.

It was set. The date was set. It would all happen, all will be over sooner than I had anticipated for it to be. Not that I was complaining. Finances weren’t at the best and with the happenings the troubles would be over sooner than later. I could finally get my life back on track, and with him out of the way I could do it much swifter. Sure I had felt bad for choosing this form of savior, but it was going to be the fastest kind of result. And with the help of my friend, there is no way that this plan isn’t going to go along as planned. One day I will need to return the favor to Don. But that will not be for many years to come. And I will be ready for it.”

It had felt as if my heart had just leapt out of my chest. My hands had gripped onto the notebook tight, even with the new sweat that was now accumulating on them. This was definitely not Frank’s journal. It was not the Frank’s I knew, anyway. Why would Frank keep a journal like this? Could he have even picked up a pencil, or was this his notebook from when he was living? Either way, why would Frank need to worry about finances?

Thoughts were running around in my mind, and the more I thought the more I had confused myself. The one thing that truly did stick out to me was the name that was used in the journal itself. Don. Don was my own father’s name. Why would he be in a book like this? Why would he be mentioned in Frank’s journal? Frank did not know my father, and if he had, why had he not said anything about it at all before? It couldn’t be my dad, could it?

We had just moved here, he could not have known anyone. He had only left the house on business and on the off chance that he had not wanted me to cook and he had gotten food himself. So where would he ever find the time to meet new people. He never was very social and had not had any friends. But then again, he did go on a lot of business trips.

I sighed and put the book down on the table that I was sat at and put my head in my hands. My life had gone on such a downward spiral these past few days, and now I had found this. Was life even truly worth living anymore? I had no question that it wasn’t.

I thought back to that night in the chamber where Frank had told me about his death. He had said things about his father, and about the way that his death had happened. He told me how his father was a nice guy, and then all of a sudden he had turned on him. Frank told me he was running out of money that he had gotten stressed out over all of that. But I don’t recall Frank ever telling me his name. Was this possibly Frank’s father’s notebook? Was Frank the thing that he was getting rid of to better himself? My heart was pounding, and my head was screaming yes.

This had to be Frank’s father’s journal. It had to be. Everything was just adding up now. The finances, the getting rid of the problem. This was the journal that Frank’s dad had kept documenting all of the happenings that led up to Frank’s death. And just somehow, my dad was also apart of it all. My dad had aided in Frank’s death. And now, as I flip through the pages of this black book, I see more and more words of crime, more speaking of Don and money. That’s when I saw it.

“The deed was done.”

I only too well knew what that sentence had to have meant.

“November,

Things had been so much better since the happening. I had gotten my life back on track just how I have wanted. Yet to do it I had lost a son. I had blood on my hands and there was no way to wash it off. I would always have it on my mind, the way that my only son had lost his life. As I write his body is only a measly few feet away from me. It has only been a week, yet I still do not know if he is still living. I haven’t heard any mumbles in days, so that must be a sign that he had given up the fight. I can’t bring myself to remove the body. I do not wish to see him like that, crumbled up on the ground in a pulp. So, to get rid of it all I plan to move somewhere where I may start fresh, a new life. After I return the favor to Don it will all be over. I have left him all of the information he would need to contact me. I would meet up with my friend one day soon, and help him with whatever would be needed. Until then, I am free.”