Status: Work in Progress
Straight Through My Heart
014
As we made our way through town towards the diner, Frank had become unnaturally quiet. His eyes seemed pained, and for a brief moment, they looked as though he was about to cry. Pulling Mikey to stop, I waited until Frank was a few feet in front of us before speaking. "Something's up with Frank," I said, just over a whisper. "Generally we can't shut him up, now it's like he's not even there."
"From what I gathered at the house, there was a broken promise," Mikey said, glancing up the road to see Frank had stopped and was currently sitting on a bench. "His mom had a bottle of Bourbon in her hands when she had gone upstairs. I saw him deflate dramatically when he caught site of it."
"She seemed totally fine when we left," I replied, crossing my arms. "I didn't smell it, and we know the smell of bourbon better than anyone."
"She may have not drank any before we left, but what's to say she didn't start once we left?" Mikey said, shoving his hands into his pockets and making his way to Frank. Taking a quick breath, I walked over to the two of them and sat on the other side of Frank.
"Everything okay, Frankie?" I asked, resting my elbows on my thighs and looking at his face. He didn't say anything for a long moment, just stared at the cracked sidewalk.
"You wouldn't understand," he said, bringing his knees up to his chest and burying his face in his arms.
"Try me," I said, giving Mikey a knowing look. Mikey went across the street to the arcade, and I patiently sat there with Frank, not pushing him to say anything unless he wanted to.
"I said you wouldn't understand, now drop it!" he yelled, looking at me, his eyes showing a strong mix of anger, sadness, and disappointment.
"Your mom broke a promise, I get that. Mikey gets that, he's the one to told me. What bugs me is that you won't trust me enough to tell me yourself," I said, standing up and clasping my hands tightly together to calm myself. "Here's a little insight to me. My father was the biggest fucking drunk in Jersey. Every bar knew his face. When he'd come home, I was used as a punching bag, and my mom could never prove it, even if I gave an excellent description as to how it happened."
"You're not going to get me to open up, Gerard. It's not that simple!" he replied, refusing to meet my gaze.
"When is it. Ever. Simple?" I replied, causing him to jump and a few passer-bys glance our way. "You're not the only one who has experienced a drunk! The abuse, the slurred insults, and the fact that you're basically on your own! My mom was away on a lt of business trips when my father was around, which had forced me and Mikey to learn how to cook, clean, do laundry. Shit that shouldn't be thrust upon a five and seven year old."
Frank didn't say anything, just stared at the street and the cars passing by. "At least your father was around. Mine left to go to fucking Brazil to hook up with some bitch from the internet."
"You know what, Frank? I give up. I'm trying to help you realize you're not alone, but you've got such a damn thick head that you refuse to accept it. Honestly, I'd rather go back to the football team and its captain than stay here and realize I must have trusted the wrong person with my own past. Speaking of, I forgot to mention my dad had a friend of his rape me and attempted to rape Mikey. I was eight. Mikey had just turned six. Our dad promised the greatest present in the world, and with a child's outlook, we believed him."
I stared at Frank for a long moment before walking away. I refused to acknowledge my own tears, and I can't explain the pain I was feeling from seeing Frankie's. I didn't know where I was going, but at this moment, I think I couldn't care. I've fought for so long to keep my past where it belonged, but something about Frank just forced it back out. He needed to know that he wasn't the only one with a broken family.
Stopping in my tracks, I looked up at the building to my right. Judging back it's rather homey like qualities, I assumed it was the diner that Frank worked at. Walking it, I looked around and noticed a group of guys who had basketball jerseys on. Letting out a small sigh, I walked over to the counter and ordered a coffee. Sitting down, I let my mind wander a bit, not realizing that a couple of the guys with the jerseys were making their way over to me.
"From what I gathered at the house, there was a broken promise," Mikey said, glancing up the road to see Frank had stopped and was currently sitting on a bench. "His mom had a bottle of Bourbon in her hands when she had gone upstairs. I saw him deflate dramatically when he caught site of it."
"She seemed totally fine when we left," I replied, crossing my arms. "I didn't smell it, and we know the smell of bourbon better than anyone."
"She may have not drank any before we left, but what's to say she didn't start once we left?" Mikey said, shoving his hands into his pockets and making his way to Frank. Taking a quick breath, I walked over to the two of them and sat on the other side of Frank.
"Everything okay, Frankie?" I asked, resting my elbows on my thighs and looking at his face. He didn't say anything for a long moment, just stared at the cracked sidewalk.
"You wouldn't understand," he said, bringing his knees up to his chest and burying his face in his arms.
"Try me," I said, giving Mikey a knowing look. Mikey went across the street to the arcade, and I patiently sat there with Frank, not pushing him to say anything unless he wanted to.
"I said you wouldn't understand, now drop it!" he yelled, looking at me, his eyes showing a strong mix of anger, sadness, and disappointment.
"Your mom broke a promise, I get that. Mikey gets that, he's the one to told me. What bugs me is that you won't trust me enough to tell me yourself," I said, standing up and clasping my hands tightly together to calm myself. "Here's a little insight to me. My father was the biggest fucking drunk in Jersey. Every bar knew his face. When he'd come home, I was used as a punching bag, and my mom could never prove it, even if I gave an excellent description as to how it happened."
"You're not going to get me to open up, Gerard. It's not that simple!" he replied, refusing to meet my gaze.
"When is it. Ever. Simple?" I replied, causing him to jump and a few passer-bys glance our way. "You're not the only one who has experienced a drunk! The abuse, the slurred insults, and the fact that you're basically on your own! My mom was away on a lt of business trips when my father was around, which had forced me and Mikey to learn how to cook, clean, do laundry. Shit that shouldn't be thrust upon a five and seven year old."
Frank didn't say anything, just stared at the street and the cars passing by. "At least your father was around. Mine left to go to fucking Brazil to hook up with some bitch from the internet."
"You know what, Frank? I give up. I'm trying to help you realize you're not alone, but you've got such a damn thick head that you refuse to accept it. Honestly, I'd rather go back to the football team and its captain than stay here and realize I must have trusted the wrong person with my own past. Speaking of, I forgot to mention my dad had a friend of his rape me and attempted to rape Mikey. I was eight. Mikey had just turned six. Our dad promised the greatest present in the world, and with a child's outlook, we believed him."
I stared at Frank for a long moment before walking away. I refused to acknowledge my own tears, and I can't explain the pain I was feeling from seeing Frankie's. I didn't know where I was going, but at this moment, I think I couldn't care. I've fought for so long to keep my past where it belonged, but something about Frank just forced it back out. He needed to know that he wasn't the only one with a broken family.
Stopping in my tracks, I looked up at the building to my right. Judging back it's rather homey like qualities, I assumed it was the diner that Frank worked at. Walking it, I looked around and noticed a group of guys who had basketball jerseys on. Letting out a small sigh, I walked over to the counter and ordered a coffee. Sitting down, I let my mind wander a bit, not realizing that a couple of the guys with the jerseys were making their way over to me.