Status: Very active.. like the universe.
Dead!
Chapter 2
Frank’s eyes locked with the man, frozen. He knew he should run but he just couldn’t bring himself to. He was scared, yes. But also curious and there was something about this man that drew frank to him, from what frank could gather from his appearance he didn’t look like the murderous type. But then again, you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover so to speak..
The dark figure was moving steadily towards franks hiding place, never breaking eye contact, never even blinking.
It looked up from the ground below the bank frank was situated on, frank looking down on him, waiting for the worst.
“Did you see them?” was all he said, his voice smooth and flowing. It was one of those voices that you could listen to for hours and never get bored of them talking
Frank was stunned “uhh.. see what?”
“You didn’t see them.”
“Well.. uhh no?”
“Good. Who are you? Why are you here? And what do you want with me?”
“I-I-I’m frank.. i-i-iero, uh I’m here because i...” frank glanced guiltily at the bag of booze and cigarettes beside him. He didn’t know why but he didn’t want to lie to this guy.
“Because you just came back from bar 101 getting alchahol.” The man finished his sentence.
Frank’s mind raced, how did he know about room 101? The booze was easy enough to guess, but the exact place he’d been to? That’s just weird. Unless he’d seen him there. He looked back down and the man and nodded once.
“And what did you want with me?”
“Huh? Nothing.. I just.. uh saw you there.. I-I was just curious I guess.”
The man suddenly cracked into a wide smile and chuckled.
“You’re not after me then. I could use some company. Come back here tomorrow at 8 if you’re really that curious.”
And with that the man turned and walked back to the riverside, he turned and winked at frank before walking out into the murky water and seemingly disappearing completely.
Frank’s mouth hung open. He’d seen a man talking to something invisible. Had a 2 minute conversation, in which he’d been asked to come back tomorrow, then seen this complete stranger disappear into the river.
Frank mentally slapped himself. You’re crazy. He thought. It’ll just be because I’m tired and hungover.
He got up and made his way back home. He knew though, that he would be going back tomorrow, there was no doubt in his mind. And somehow, he thought the stranger knew this too.
About 20 minutes later frank was climbing through the open kitchen window to his house, his parents should be asleep and the last thing he wanted was for them to find out what he’d been doing. Luckily the house was pitch black, he switched on the key-ring torch he had in his pocket and slipped up to his room.
Frank’s room was really nothing special cream coloured walls, peeling at the corners. A bunk bed, a full length mirror and a locked cupboard at one end that held everything he owned. His parents were religious homophobes, respected by the whole religious community and rarely let him have anything he wanted; He even had to smuggle his music into the house ‘Satan’s noise’ as they called it. They certainly didn’t want their gay punk of a son ruining their reputation.
The only thing frank owned that he really loved was his small, battered acoustic guitar that he kept locked in a cupboard so his parents couldn’t get at it. It had been his dad’s once. His real dad. This was the only reason he had it in the first place. For frank this was the only sense of freedom he could get, just to totally loose himself in the music for even just 10 minutes was worth a whole day of shit.
Frank sighed, hid the bag and checked himself over in the mirror. He didn’t think he was good looking at all, but he took pride in his appearance, wanting to stand out from the crowd and not giving a shit about what other people think. His hair was a dark brown, shaven and bleached blonde at both sides, he had quite a girlish face and wore eyeliner most of the time.
The only clothing he ever wore were his band shirts (misfits, black flag, the smiths, Metallica) and ripped up jeans. Sighing again he left the mirror and sunk into his bed. Still thinking about the man, And what would happen tomorrow. He sank into a black sleep.
The dark figure was moving steadily towards franks hiding place, never breaking eye contact, never even blinking.
It looked up from the ground below the bank frank was situated on, frank looking down on him, waiting for the worst.
“Did you see them?” was all he said, his voice smooth and flowing. It was one of those voices that you could listen to for hours and never get bored of them talking
Frank was stunned “uhh.. see what?”
“You didn’t see them.”
“Well.. uhh no?”
“Good. Who are you? Why are you here? And what do you want with me?”
“I-I-I’m frank.. i-i-iero, uh I’m here because i...” frank glanced guiltily at the bag of booze and cigarettes beside him. He didn’t know why but he didn’t want to lie to this guy.
“Because you just came back from bar 101 getting alchahol.” The man finished his sentence.
Frank’s mind raced, how did he know about room 101? The booze was easy enough to guess, but the exact place he’d been to? That’s just weird. Unless he’d seen him there. He looked back down and the man and nodded once.
“And what did you want with me?”
“Huh? Nothing.. I just.. uh saw you there.. I-I was just curious I guess.”
The man suddenly cracked into a wide smile and chuckled.
“You’re not after me then. I could use some company. Come back here tomorrow at 8 if you’re really that curious.”
And with that the man turned and walked back to the riverside, he turned and winked at frank before walking out into the murky water and seemingly disappearing completely.
Frank’s mouth hung open. He’d seen a man talking to something invisible. Had a 2 minute conversation, in which he’d been asked to come back tomorrow, then seen this complete stranger disappear into the river.
Frank mentally slapped himself. You’re crazy. He thought. It’ll just be because I’m tired and hungover.
He got up and made his way back home. He knew though, that he would be going back tomorrow, there was no doubt in his mind. And somehow, he thought the stranger knew this too.
About 20 minutes later frank was climbing through the open kitchen window to his house, his parents should be asleep and the last thing he wanted was for them to find out what he’d been doing. Luckily the house was pitch black, he switched on the key-ring torch he had in his pocket and slipped up to his room.
Frank’s room was really nothing special cream coloured walls, peeling at the corners. A bunk bed, a full length mirror and a locked cupboard at one end that held everything he owned. His parents were religious homophobes, respected by the whole religious community and rarely let him have anything he wanted; He even had to smuggle his music into the house ‘Satan’s noise’ as they called it. They certainly didn’t want their gay punk of a son ruining their reputation.
The only thing frank owned that he really loved was his small, battered acoustic guitar that he kept locked in a cupboard so his parents couldn’t get at it. It had been his dad’s once. His real dad. This was the only reason he had it in the first place. For frank this was the only sense of freedom he could get, just to totally loose himself in the music for even just 10 minutes was worth a whole day of shit.
Frank sighed, hid the bag and checked himself over in the mirror. He didn’t think he was good looking at all, but he took pride in his appearance, wanting to stand out from the crowd and not giving a shit about what other people think. His hair was a dark brown, shaven and bleached blonde at both sides, he had quite a girlish face and wore eyeliner most of the time.
The only clothing he ever wore were his band shirts (misfits, black flag, the smiths, Metallica) and ripped up jeans. Sighing again he left the mirror and sunk into his bed. Still thinking about the man, And what would happen tomorrow. He sank into a black sleep.
♠ ♠ ♠
:3