The Only Hope For Me

I hadn’t seen Frank since he walked into the toilets earlier, I knew he wouldn’t go to PE, but we had music first and he love music.. There’s no way he’s been in the toilets all this time..? I quickly changed and shoved my gym clothes in my bag.

I thought back to this morning, how Frank has been wearing long sleeves for a couple weeks, now. The hottest weeks of the season, I guess it’s up to him what he wears but there’s no way he’s cold, it’s so hot out…

The bell rang for third period and without thinking I ran out of the changing rooms to find Frank. I stopped once I got to the toilets; I opened and closed the door quietly, making sure not to make any noise as I walked across the room. I was looking at the floor as I passed the stalls, I had no idea why. Only one of the doors was closed, I noticed a bit of blood on the floor but though nothing of it.

I knocked the door gently and heard whimpering and soft sobs on the other side of the door. “Frank?” I whispered “are you in there?” There was a bit of movement but no reply. “Frank? It’s Mikey. Please open the door…” I heard shuffling in the stall.

The door clicked and opened slowly revelling a terrible looking Frank; his black eyeliner was smudged down his cheeks and mixed with tears; his eyes were red and puffy from crying; and he looked like he was about to faint. He looked up and me and fell into my arms, he started crying immediately. I walked into the stall slowly, holding him tight. What the hell happened to him?
“Are you okay, Frankie?” For some reason I expected a sarcastic answer, but I didn’t get one...
“No… Don’t leave me here Mikey...” he sounded so fragile and broken I hugged him more he didn’t stop crying “Please don’t cry, babe” I whispered. I know it sounds stupid; me calling him babe but it helps.. “I...um...I’m sorry Mikes...” he looked down for a second as if he was thinking What's he sorry for? then lifted up his sleeves revealing a bandage around his right arm, it was soaked with blood.

His left arm was covered with cuts and each one had a painful looking bruise around it showing how deep it was. I bit my lip as I looked at his arms; taking everything in, he whispered again “I’m so sorry, please don’t hate me... You’re all I have left...” I hugged him again, gently this time in case he had cuts elsewhere, he flinched slightly when my hands brushed passed his hips and stomach I sighed quietly, “Frank..?” he looked up at me he looked scared “Are there anymore..?” I asked carefully. He began to slowly remove his shirt, he was shaking really bad.

When he had completely taken his shirt off he started crying more, I was right about there being more cuts, they were all over his stomach, his lower chest and his sides there were also some bruises but not around the cuts they must be from the jocks I thought. I sighed again. “Don’t cry Frank, put your shirt on and we’ll talk.”