These Eyes Are Blind

Now Frank’s accustomed to being on a person’s bad side, but never has he encountered it as quickly as with that kid Blake. He’s not sure if ‘bad side’ is even the right term. The way Blake treats Frank in the halls of the school the very next day is almost like Frank broke into his house late at night and murdered Blake’s family. That’s how Blake is treating him anyway. If not for the fact that Patrick is by his side for most of the morning, Frank would probably have had his head stuffed in a toilet.

Evidently the snow decided not to start falling last night, but actually during Frank’s lunch period. Given the plethora of conversations he overheard with ‘dude, look it’s snowing outside,’ Frank has gathered that it’s snowing outside, dude.

“So I hear that it’s snowing,” Frank says at lunch. He’s found himself sitting across from Pete again with Patrick on his right. They decided to sit on the other side of the cafeteria today though because apparently Blake is on the murder path. Pete is somewhat of an acquaintance of Blake, neither friend nor foe, while Patrick is someone who has repeatedly been shoved into lockers by the guy. Frank’s still trying to understand the dynamics. How can a popular kid be friends with an unpopular kid? Frank’s old school was not nearly that convoluted and complex. It was dog eat dog. Actually it was ‘gosh Becky, I can’t believe you’re eating yogurt with fat in it’ versus ‘my nonfat yogurt makes me better than you.’ Frank’s old school was weird.

Frank is just crawling along through the day at a sloths pace. Tuesday’s are always longer than Monday’s Frank has decided. On Monday, the weight of your weekend still has a bit of a hold on you and you slump to class with a bit of a lull, but on Tuesday, it’s sunk in that you still have four days left of the week, and it makes you want to shove a pencil in your eye. That wouldn’t do as much to Frank as it would to other people, but he still rolls a number two pencil around in his hand wishing someone would stab him with it.

Blake has a lot of classes with Frank though. Frank has a grand total of six periods in one day, with two of them interchanging every other day, and he has four of those periods with Blake. He only has three with Patrick, and one with Pete, so if Frank wanted body guards, that hope was shattered.

Frank’s never liked gym before, but he especially hates it here at this school. Mainly because one of the four classes he has with Blake is gym. Though the one good thing about it is that Frank has gym as his last period.

Before the period even starts he can tell it’s not going to be a good one by the way the teacher treats him. It’s a man, judging by how bored his voice sounds, he’s fairly old, and Frank doesn’t get along very well with the older generations. Mostly it’s due to his attitude getting him into trouble.

When Frank shows up, he literally hears his gym teacher sigh loudly, and Frank practically sees the thought bubble forming above this man’s head reading, ‘oh great, I got a blind kid.’

“Do you have your gym clothes?” the teacher asks Frank before he says anything else. Frank decides that that’s the only form of greeting this curmudgeonly old man is capable of.

“It’s only my second day.”

“A simple ‘no’ would suffice.”

“Then no,” Frank says.

“Fine, but you need to bring gym clothes your next day,” the teacher says gruffly, telling Frank that it’s not fine at all. Gym is, at least, one of the classes he only has every other day so at least he doesn’t have to go through the hell of being behind everyone else every day. At least not in this one class, that’ll still be true of everything in his entire life, especially school.

Actually though, the rest of the period passes by pretty uneventfully. Frank doesn’t have to do much of anything, because it’s a hazard to allow the blind kid to play basketball. Frank’s probably not tall enough to be able to throw a ball into the hoop anyway. He sits out for most of the period, receiving snarky comments from Blake every time that he passes Frank’s bench.

The class is indoors thankfully, because it’s still snowing outside. All this means to Frank is that his mom is probably going to be waiting for him outside the bus stop when he gets home which isn’t going to be demeaning at all.

Eventually, even though it feels like a century, the class finally ends, and Frank is given permission to leave. He decides not to go into the boy’s locker room to wait for the final bell to ring, because, if it smells like dirty socks in the hallway across the entire school, he does not want to smell that at the source. Instead Frank just waits outside the double doors of the gym and wonders when the bell is actually going to ring.

He realizes though that he has no idea which way to go to get to his locker, because this is his first time on this side of the school, and he groans.

“Excuse me?” Frank asks around, not knowing if someone is near him or not.

“What?” a voice replies, that Frank isn’t familiar with, but it’s a girls.

“I don’t, uh, know which way to go to get to my locker,” Frank says.

The girl asks him what his locker number is, but it seems she’s not too sure either. She does at least try to help him which Frank hadn’t exactly expected, as she tells him where she thinks his locker is. It’s a big school though, and it’s not like he expected her to memorize the placement of every locker.

When the bell finally rings, Frank makes his way off in the direction she told him to go, while she goes the other way, so he has no one to rely on where he’s going. Frank walks behind his cane, searching for someone who he might accidentally hit with it. He whacks several pairs of feet as he ventures down the hall, but at least he doesn’t trip himself up. That’s all that really matters to him.

A minute later though, Frank’s come to the conclusion that he doesn’t know where he’s going. He doesn’t know where to find Patrick either, so he just tests out the nature of the people around him and asks.

Frank’s in the middle of a hallway with students busying themselves with packing their backpacks up to go home. He asks around for someone to help him. Eventually he’s pointed the right way and makes it there only because of the fact that it’s not that far away.

Finding his specific locker is a bit of a challenge, but he does so. Then Frank messes with it for about five minutes, and hears kids walking around him to get out of school. This is taking too long. He doesn’t know how to get the locker door open though, because he can’t see the numbers. Frank feels along the lock spindle, but the numbers aren’t standing out well enough for him to tell what they are. Frank could really use someone with eyes right about now.

“Hey Frank,” a voice says behind him, and Frank tenses up slightly because he recognizes Blake’s voice.

“Yes?” Frank asks, “How may I help you?”

“Having trouble getting your locker open?” he asks.

“Not that it concerns you any, but yes,” Frank says, “That may be in part because I can’t see.”

“Poor guy,” Blake says with such sugared over distaste it makes Frank want to puke.

“What do you want?”

“Do you need help getting your locker open?” Blake asks.

“From you? No. I doubt you’d help me anyway.”

“You’re right. I wouldn’t help you.”

“Yeah whatever,” Frank says, and he’s getting ready to dent the locker with his fist. Frank is so annoyed with it that he just gives up entirely and starts to walk away from his locker and away from Blake.

The halls are fairly clear now, so Frank has to hurry if he’s going to make it to his bus. Frank has some homework in his locker, but it’s only his second day, so it’s really not that big of a deal if he neglects to do it. There are some liberties a blind kid is granted, and deadlines are usually a little less strict for him.

“Uh, Frank,” Blake says, “you’re going the wrong way.”

Frank curses himself and turns around, which is unfortunately past the Blake kid that he wants to punch in the face so much. Frank makes sure to clear himself a few feet between himself and Blake so that he doesn’t get tripped by him. Blake chuckles at him, and Frank feels his eyes glaring at the back of his head.

About a minute later, Frank is almost completely certain that Blake is a bigger dick than Frank was bargaining for. Frank ends up on the completely wrong side of the school, and that’s when it hits him that he was not going the wrong way at all. He was going the correct way until Blake told him he was wrong. Frank was gullible. It was a moment of weakness.

Frank’s also aware of the fact that there are people following him. One of them he’s assuming is Blake, and there’s at least two more people, probably fellow football players. Frank is in some deep shit.

“Okay, very funny guys, you’ve led the blind guy astray, would you mind telling me which way I’m actually supposed to go now?” Frank asks, facing his stalkers.

“Why should we do that?” Blake asks.

“Because I do have places to be,” Frank lies.

The next thing he knows he’s being pushed. Frank doesn’t land on the floor as he’d expected, and he doesn’t hit a wall either. He feels a wall slam into his back, but then the wall moves. Frank figures out that it’s a door only just in time to stop himself from falling flat on his face.

There’s the sound of laughing, while Frank tries to figure out why it’s so cold all of a sudden. He’s outside. That’s why it’s so cold. Frank is outside, and there really is snow everywhere. Frank grips his cane tighter and reaches around for the door, but he’s pushed back again. Frank is ushered even further outside. He’s far away from the sanctuary of the indoors and now he’s outside and it’s really cold.

“What’s the point of all of this?” Frank questions.

“Proving a point,” Blake says.

“And that point would be?”

“That the blind kid with a big mouth should really tread carefully,” Blake responds.

Frank’s had the nightmare before about losing his cane. He’s had that nightmare several times in several different ways, but they all reiterate the same basic point. Frank is afraid of not having his cane. That’s one of his all-time biggest fears.

He’s not prepared for it when the cane is pulled out of his hand with so much strength that he can’t even put up a fight. The next thing Frank knows is that he’s standing in the middle of what feels like a field, and he’s balancing precariously on some ice, without his cane.

Being without it honestly feels like he’s naked. Like he’s missing the only thing in the entire world that he needs. Frank is a crippled wreck without the long piece of metal, and his heart starts racing at the thought that he doesn’t have a grasp on it.

“Can I have that back?” Frank asks, “I really need it.”

“Oh do you now,” Blake asks.

“Yes.”

“Then nah,” Blake says.

“Really?” Frank says, “I mean, you’ve proved your point, okay? I have a big mouth, I already knew that. What does taking my cane prove?”

“That I am far superior.”

“You tell yourself that all you want,” Frank says, which is not the smartest thing to do in his precarious position. He’s pushed further back, with his cane hitting him in the chest. Frank can’t stop himself from falling to the ground, skinning his elbow painfully. Frank scrambles back onto his feet hurriedly, mostly to regain some of his pride, but Blake and his cohorts start laughing again.

Frank isn’t certain what the layout of the school is like, but he thinks that the busses are on the other side of the school, and he thinks he’s standing on the football field. The school completely blocks the busses though, so he’s pretty much on his own.

“Okay guys we’ve had our fun, can you just give me my cane back please?” Frank asks, trying to sound unamused, but he’s actually really scared. He doesn’t know where on earth the school is from here, and he doesn’t know where the road is. All he knows is that he’s in the middle of a field and it’s freezing, so there’s probably ice everywhere.

“No I think we’ll just be heading off,” Blake says.

“Can I have my cane back then?”

“Nah I think I’ll keep it,” he answers and the other guys chuckle.

“Why do you need a cane?” Frank answers and he curses to himself that he sounds scared.

“To do this, mainly,” the guy says and Frank feels something hit him hard around the ankles, making him fall to the ground painfully.

“That was not very polite,” Frank says, voice trembling slightly because he’s fairly sure he just twisted his ankle.

“Oh well,” Blake’s voice says and it sounds like he’s walking away. Frank panics slightly, because Blake really does still have his cane.

“I can’t see without my cane!” Frank screeches.

“I know.”

“But-”

“Bye Frank.”

“Wait,” Frank calls, but there’s the sound of feet crunching in snow so he knows that they really are walking away, and he feels himself get really desperate. “Please?”

When the only response he hears is a snicker, he knows that he really is on his own, and he can’t do a thing about it. Nothing at all. His stomach clenches with fear that he’s been left all alone.

Frank stays on the ground, completely still for several long minutes. He just lets the snow soak into his jeans making them chafe uncomfortably. Frank doesn’t know if Blake is still watching him, waiting for Frank to make an idiot of himself or not, so he’s just going to kneel on the ground for a little while longer.

Frank’s trying to remember where his phone is, and then curses to himself that he left it in his locker with his backpack. He hadn’t anticipated that he’d get stuck out here though, so he didn’t think to bring it with him, and he couldn’t get his damn locker open anyway. Now he’s regretting that decision.

After about five minutes, Frank decides to test the ground around him to see if he can make it out of this field. Twenty seconds later, after falling flat onto his ass, he realizes that he really cannot. He’d accidently put his foot right on top of a particularly slippery patch of ice and this sent him sprawling against the frozen grass.

Frank feels out around him, hoping that maybe he can crawl away from here, but he’s not sure where he’s supposed to go. He hasn’t a clue which way is the right way to go, because falling left him disorientated. Very few sounds are reaching his ears because the wind has started to pick up, but it’s been a while. Frank’s sure the busses have probably left, or are leaving right now. There’s literally no chance he’s going to be able to make it to his own bus in time at this point.

He wishes, despite the voice in his head telling him not to, that Patrick were here. He wishes that Patrick had been with him when Blake had ambushed him, and he wishes that he’d never listened to a word Blake had said. It’s too late to wish that though, Patrick has no idea where he is right now.

Frank starts to crawl, but that idea is dead in the water when his fingers are ungloved and the ground is freezing. Frank’s sure it has to be in the single digits outside right now. When on earth did it get to be that cold?

Frank’s bad at keeping track of time in the best of situations, so he’s certainly wretched at it in the worst ones. He just has to sit and wait for something to happen, for some idea to strike him. Time starts passing though, and he knows it’s been a while. Frank thinks he’s been lying on this field for at least an hour. It could be more, but he’s fairly sure that it has to have been that long at the very least. Maybe it’s been two hours he doesn’t know for sure.

His teeth are starting to clatter together almost without break, so it sounds more like one solid noise rather than the buildup of his teeth meeting together individually.

It’s freezing, and that’s all Frank knows right now. It’s freezing and he’s pretty sure that it’s getting dark outside. No one knows he’s here, and no one cares probably. He wants to just get up and find someone’s help, but where can he go without risking getting more injured? Why did he leave his phone in his locker? His mom will get home from work soon though and realize he’s not there.

Maybe he should start crawling again and look for help. No that’s not a smart idea he doesn’t have gloves and his hands will freeze. This is miserable. It’s his second day at school and he’s stranded in the middle of a football field surrounded with snow and ice. This is such a stupid predicament. He shouldn’t be in this mess. If he weren’t blind, none of this shit would have happened to him.

One hour turns into two, and it’s getting ridiculous. Sure it’s cold and people want to get home, but shouldn’t someone have noticed him here by now?

One of the perks of being blind is that your other senses are heightened, and this is when Frank hears footsteps, kind of faraway but they’re close enough.

Frank calms his teeth to stop clattering and clears his throat so it won’t be scratchy, “hello? Is there someone there, I need help!”

He feels stupid. He needs help to get out of a field. How belittling is that, but he has no choice at this point. He needs someone to help him.

“What? Who’s that?” Someone, a deep voice belonging to a male, calls back.

“My name is Frank, and I need help, please, just... please!” he says trying not to beg.

He hears crunching snow, from what is distinctly two sets of feet, and he turns his head, but he can’t really tell which direction the feet are coming from.

“What’s wrong, dude?” The voice of the second person, also a guy, says. His voice is higher pitched than the others’.

Frank can tell that they’re somewhat close and turns in the direction the voice came from. They’re probably a few feet away, and he probably looks like such an idiot curled into a ball in the snow.

“Some guy, uh,” how does he phrase this? “I can’t see, because I’m, uh, and someone took my cane and I can’t... I can’t- and I’m just really scared.”

“Oh jeez,” the deeper voice says and he hears him walk closer, “here I’ll help you up.”

Frank thanks his luck that at least this guy isn’t going to laugh and walk away. He feels someone’s hand on his shoulder and raises his own hand to find the guy. A gloved hand grabs ahold of his, and he’s pulled up onto his feet by the guy, but he’s hesitant to let go because he doesn’t want to fall.

“Frank, was it?” The guy asks, and the sound of footsteps lets him know that the other person approached him.

“Yes, I’m Frank,” he says, and his voice is quivering because he either needs to cry or he’s just really cold, or both.

“Oh god you must be freezing,” he hears the ruffling of clothes and then someone puts a jacket on his shoulder, “I’m Brendon, and this is Mikey.”

The other guy, Mikey, says hello to Frank. Frank doesn’t say anything, but pulls the jacket he’s just been given closer around himself, because he is positively glacial.

“So what did you say happened?” Mikey asks.

“Some guy pushed me out here into the middle of this field after school ended and then took my cane, and ran away with it.”

“You’ve been out here for hours?” Brendon asks, and Frank nods, “okay, we’ll get you out of here then.”

“Thank you,” Frank says, and he still hasn’t let go of Brendon, but he doesn’t feel all that guilty about that.

The boys each take one of his arms and very slowly guide him off the field and onto the sidewalk which is just as slippery.

“Frank, do you need me to drive you home?” Brendon asks.

“Um, I left my phone in my locker. I should call my mom to come get me.”

“Sorry dude, the school is locked,” Mikey says, “we can’t get back in.”

Frank sighs and feels awful now.

“It’s no problem Frank, I’m not going to just leave you out here without help,” Brendon says.

There’s a long moment of Frank awkwardly trying to shoo them away, because he wants to be able to do things by himself, combatted with the argument, that he really can’t do anything. They’re not wrong, and Frank knows that, but his pride is something to be reckoned with. He’d rather be trapped here all day then get help from two people he doesn’t know, nor want to know.

They did help him though.

Eventually, Frank’s stubbornness loses to logic. He just lets the other two do what they think is best, considering they now have to deal with the weight of a blind guy who doesn’t know his way out of a parking lot. Brendon decides to go get his car and pull up to the curb so that Frank doesn’t need to walk through the booby trap of a parking lot, so he’s left standing awkwardly with Mikey.

“Are you new?” Mikey asks, as they wait.

“Yeah, yesterday was my first day,” Frank answers, and he looks at the spot where he hopes Mikey is.

“Oh okay. You’re already getting bullied on your second day?”

Frank sighs, “I’m kind of an asshole sometimes.”

Mikey laughs next to him, and Frank smiles slightly.

“It’s nice that you can admit to it,” Mikey answers, which reminds him a bit of the conversation he’d had with Gerard the other day.

“So why are you so late leaving anyway?” Frank asks.

Mikey makes a sound, and says jokingly, “definitely not detention or anything like that. I’ve never been in trouble. Not ever.”

“What did you do?” Frank asks.

“Not important.”

He hears a car pull up a few moments later, and allows himself to be ushered into the backseat by Mikey, and he’s just really hoping that these two guys don’t decide to rape or kill him, because that would be the opposite of helpful.

“Hey, um, thank you so much for helping me out,” Frank says, after he’s inside, where there is a refreshing amount of heat.

“Oh god don’t worry,” Brendon says, “I’m glad we found you when we did otherwise you could’ve gotten frostbite or something. And I promise not to murder you and throw you off a bridge or something, by the way.”

“That’s somewhat reassuring.”

“Besides,” Brendon says, “Mikey’s far more murderous than I’ve ever been.”

“How were you going to get home if you’re mom wasn’t going to pick you up anyway?” Mikey asks after Frank relays his address to them.

“I ride the bus and find my own way home from there. I’m blind, but I’m not an idiot, and I don’t need other peoples help,” Frank answers.

“Well that’s bullshit,” Brendon says, “Mikey and I drive every day, I could pick you up.”

“No don’t go to the trouble, you barely know me and-”

“Hey, I don’t like it when people get picked on,” Brendon says, “and picking on a blind guy who can’t do anything is even worse.”

“No, don’t give me special treatment just because I’m blind. It’s patronizing.”

“Fine then I’ll give you special treatment because I’m your friend,” Brendon answers. Frank doesn’t know what to say at that. He wasn’t aware he and Brendon were friends, but apparently it’s been decided. The thing is that his stance on friends can’t be changed, not even with a gesture as nice as this.

“I don’t have friends,” Frank states, “not because I’m incapable of making them, but because I don’t want them. I don’t want friends.”

“Well why not?”

“Because I’m blind, and it’s a million times harder to check behind you to see if someone’s about to stab you in the back, when you can’t actually see who’s there.”

"Well like I said, Mikey's the murderous one. I promise I would never do that but I can't speak for Mikey."

"Hey, I'll only stab him if he truly deserves it. I think you'll be okay though, since I haven't stabbed Brendon or my brother."

Frank laughs and shakes his head. He likes that they can joke about backstabbing in such a way. It makes him feel comfortable knowing he isn't the only person with a somewhat sick sense of humor.

"You'll want to stab me in no time."

"You're still here."

"Had you met me under different circumstances it probably would've been you two who left me there," Frank says with a hint of sadness in his voice. Frank knows he’s an asshole, and, at the end of the day, he probably did deserve to be messed with. He doesn't think he deserved what Blake did though. Maybe he should've listened to Pete and Patrick.

"We would never do that. That was just cruel."

"Yeah, we would've at least left you with your cane. Or a road map," Mikey adds and they chuckle together.

"Well that makes me feel better," Frank says with sarcasm.

"We're just dicking around."

"I know."

The rest of the ride to his house is spent in a somewhat comfortable silence. As they pull up Frank's heart begin to pound a little faster. He knows his mother will not be happy about this at all. Frank has a spare cane so she won't have to worry about replacing it yet, but he knows that will be the least of her worries.

Frank listens as Mikey shuffles out of the car, he know it’s Mikey because the sound was coming from his left side, nearer to him. Next thing he knows, the car door is being opened and he’s being guided out of the seat. Frank lets himself be held by the two boys and walked slowly up the pathway. Before they get far he hears the door to his house being opened.

"Frankie! Oh my God Frankie!"

Frank's mother rushes as much as the snow and ice covered ground will let her over to Frank. She pulls him into a tight hug and holds him there for a long time.

"I was so afraid. I went to the school to find you and you weren't there! They told me that you had left with everyone else, and I assured them that you did not come home on that bus. I went to wait for you there because I knew the snow had frozen over even more than this morning. What happened to you? Where are your things?"

Frank lets his mother go and shrugs. He’d known this was coming, and now he has to deal with the fact that she’s going to baby him like there’s no tomorrow.

"I got in trouble with the wrong people today and they decided to teach me a lesson. Let me tell you... lesson learned," Frank tries to let out a lighthearted chuckle but he knows he isn't fooling anyone; not even himself.

"Frankie..."

"I'm okay mom. Mikey and Brendon found me and gave me a ride home. I’d tell you which is which but honestly, arms feel pretty much the same when you’ve just met a guy."

"You're not okay. None of this is okay! You were stranded for hours Frankie. How am I supposed to be comfortable with you going to school when shit like this happens?" Frank's mother’s voice shakes as she speaks and she hugs him again. "I am so glad you're okay. I don't know what I would've done if this had turned out otherwise."

Frank's mother pulls back and wraps her arm around Frank's waist, "Come on... let's get you inside. It's freezing out here. You two come along too."

Frank is really shocked because his mother is never very nice to strangers. He guesses it’s in part because of the fact that they helped her only son in a time of need.

“No it’s fine, we should really get going,” Brendon says, and Frank doesn’t know how he feels about the fact that the two guys he just met have already met his overbearing mother. Usually you wait until you get to know a person before you introduce them to your parents.

“I insist. Unless you two have somewhere else to be. I know how worried I was that my boy was so late coming home,” Frank’s mother says, and he really hates how he can already feel himself being shoved into a box for the rest of his life to protect him from other people.

“Well, we-” Mikey starts.

“I completely forgot to ask you your names,” Frank’s mother interrupts.

After hearing their voices, Frank can pinpoint who’s on which side of him, and says to his mother, “that’s Brendon, that one’s Mikey.”

“Please boys, I really would ask you to come inside. I want to know what happened. In detail,” she says, directing the last two words to Frank who would probably brush over most of the actual story if she hadn’t said that. “And it’s too cold outside for you two to be out here.”

“You kidding?” Frank asks, “This is short shorts weather.”

“It’s ten degrees!”

“Boiling,” Frank says.

“That would be Celsius, Frank,” his mother says, and then he’s being pulled inside. Frank wants to resist, but he really had not noticed how cold it was until he’s inside where it’s amazingly warm. He doesn’t feel like his shoulder is going to fall out of its socket anymore. The cold got to feeling pretty normal, even in the evidently broken heating of the car. He’s assuming it’s Brendon’s car, as Brendon was the one driving, but he’s not certain.

From the footsteps he hears behind him, hesitant but there nonetheless, he’s aware of Mikey and Brendon uncomfortably walking forward slightly. This isn’t going to be awkward at all.

“Frank, from the beginning,” his mother says, and every person alive knows that tone. It’s the take-no-shit tone that could send a mass murderer into a corner in a fetal position.

“The beginning? Whoa, okay, well, as far as I know, that would have been the big bang-”

“Frank,” his mom says, and he’s not going to test that any further.

“Alright so yesterday I totally did not mouth off at a teacher, right? You were called about it, sorry about that, but it happened. And anyway so I told the teacher I’m blind, I can’t exactly find an empty seat, and I got sent to the office, because apparently being right makes you wrong. Go figure? But I was pissed so I may or may not have made a remark about how I was going to wonder off into the girl’s locker room, and that’s not a good thing to say when you’re new so the teacher told this guy, Blake, to walk me there. I picked on him a little bit, what can I say. You’ve met me, I’m a complete dick. Said some things, that’s not important, but anyway, at lunch yesterday I heard him talking a little more. He couldn’t score with a chick, because his game was off by a long shot, so I called him out for being a misogynistic asshole, and that pissed him off. Bad news though, cause who did I piss off? Captain of the football team. Karma’s a bitch, amiright? Must have been the repentance for all those free cookies I mooched off of the dinner ladies at my old school. Not the point though. Point is, I pissed off a football jock. Football jocks have posse’s and they may not be able to hold an intelligent conversation, but they sure as hell can hold a grudge. So long story short I was tricked into the middle of a football field where I was then shoved to the ground and someone stole my cane.”

Frank takes a long time to breathe after he gets through the events, but he’s content with himself that he conveyed the story well enough for his mother’s liking.

“You told me none of this about the football person,” his mother says, and Frank scoffs. Really, that’s what she’s focused on? Frank not telling her? Not the part where he was stranded in a field?

“Well I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Frank, you were in the middle of a field! With ice! And you don’t know anyone here! And it’s getting late. Someone could have hurt you!”

“Were you not paying attention to my story? Someone did hurt me.”

“You know what I mean,” his mother replies.

“Oh please. What kind of mugger could hurt me more than I’ve already been hurt, mother? My history with being mugged isn’t full of rainbows, but it can’t exactly get worse. What are they going to take next? My ears? My tongue? You know, come to think of it, stealing my tongue might not be a bad idea, have you seen the mouth on me? I want to punch myself in the face half the time. Trouble is, I don’t want to damage such a beautiful face.”

Brendon snorts behind him, and Frank turns around to look in his general direction with a smirk. He kind of forgot about the two people’s existence behind him, but they’re still there, and god is that awkward as hell. He has two people who he’d never met before just a few minutes ago, who practically just saved his life, in his home with his mother.

This is a nightmare Frank had once, he’s sure of it. Only that nightmare ended with a large man holding an ax bursting into the room and chopping everyone to pieces. To be honest, an ax is not the most effective weapon for chopping people up, if the murderer wanted to make quick work of them, he’d have gotten a saw or something. Though that’s a bit too overdone. Frank can’t control his subconscious though. That is evident by the many dreams he’s had of ice fishing in an active volcano.

“And you two, how do you two play in?” his mother asks, assumingly looking at Brendon and Mikey behind him.

“Careful,” Frank says, “she was a lawyer in another life. Treat this like you’re wanted for a homicide and you’re giving a statement to the cops.”

“I-”

“Frank!”

“I must speak the truth when it is asked upon me!” Frank says defensively.

Brendon stutters before Mikey, who’s calmer it seems than Brendon is, communicates the events to Frank’s mother. It’s pretty basic, not as sarcastic as Frank’s version, but it gets the point across that they’d never met Frank before they found him so helpless in the middle of a field.

Frank's mother nods and sighs. She doesn't know what she is going to do with Frank. On one hand she wants him to be independent so that when she leaves this earth she doesn't have to worry wherever she may go. Considering he may not have someone when she leaves, and what if she goes suddenly, he'll have to know how to do things and get around. On the other hand she just wants to do everything for him and nurture him like an over caring mother would.

Can anyone really blame her? She has an eighteen year old blind son that bad things keep happening to. She should be used to it by now right? Wrong. No one will ever get used to their child being hurt unless they're careless horrible beings. You wouldn't even call them parents, because parents would never act that way to their children.

"Thank you," Frank's mother speaks to the boys.

"It was really not a problem at all. We're just glad we decided to go that way instead of the long way around to get to the car," Mikey speaks.

"Yeah, I'm sorry we didn't find you sooner," Brendon intervenes.

"Hey, it wasn't your task for the day. I don't care when the fuck I was found as long as I was found at all."

"Will you watch that mouth of yours now?" his mother snaps.

"I think you are very well aware that I am incapable of watching anything," Frank snarls to his mother.

"I guess that's a no," Frank's mother sighs and places her hands on her hips. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Love me the same way you always have. You're definitely not going to start treating me like a child."

Brendon and Mikey look at his mother and chuckles as she shakes her head, "I know exactly what I'm going to do."

"What?" Frank inquires.

"Buy you a muzzle."

“I'm not some kind of animal mother! I mean, seriously, I haven't even encountered sexual activities yet-”

"Frank!" his mom stops him. Brendon and Mikey burst out laughing as Frank just smirks in his mother's direction.

“Is that not something you say to your mother?”

“No, not really,” Brendon says.

“I thought it would be comforting.”

“No you didn’t,” his mother shakes her head.

“No your right. I just thought it would make the tension more palpable. This room isn’t nearly uncomfortable enough. I don’t want it just to be palpable, I want to be slapped in the face with the awkward.”

“No, it's not palpable. You literally can't touch it. As MC Hammer said in his hit song,” Brendon says.

“Did you just-”

“I may have,” Brendon confirms.

“Nice,” Frank nods.

“I’m kind of disappointed in myself for that one, honestly.”

“You should be,” Mikey says.

“Well it’s good that you found people with such twisted senses of humor as you, Frank,” Frank’s mother says.

“Oh it’s not quite as sick as mine yet. No jokes about blindness or being satanic yet.”

“Is that a requirement?” Mikey asks.

“Yes.”

“Frank, don’t you think your friends should be going?” his mother asks. Frank’s confused, because a moment ago, she was insisting that they them come in and now she’s shooing them away.

“Not friends,” Frank says.

“Frank,” his mother sends him a look that he can’t see, but he feels it.

“No he explained that pretty thoroughly already,” Brendon says.

“Yeah, something about Mikey murdering people,” Frank waves the conversation off, but his mother is glaring at him still, he knows it. “Well I’m not going to call them friends. Mother, we’ve established this. The highest honor I can bestow upon a person is the lack of a desire to chop your toes off. I don’t want to chop either of your toes off. That’s like an ‘I love you’ coming from me.”

“I feel the love,” Mikey says rather monotonously, and given the fact that Frank’s only real superficial judge of character is a voice, it’s rather unhelpful. Everyone judges others superficially to some extent. The way they dress, the price of their clothes, the way they wear their hair, how attractive they are. Those are all rather shallow ways to view a person, but since Frank can’t see any of those things, the only snap judgments he can make about a person without getting to know them is by the sound of their voice.

Brendon’s got this nice orotund voice, deep and certain. Mikey’s is no less pleasant, but it’s lighter. Somewhat throatier even though Brendon uses more sound behind his own.

The fact that Mikey puts very little emotion into his voice though is bothering Frank. He can’t make any decisions about the guy based off of only that. He already feels like he’s starting to create a picture of Brendon, but with Mikey it’s like he’s run out of paint. To be honest, it kind of intrigues him.

"Okay, my mom is correct. It is getting late. You two should be going. I have to eat and shower and pretend I don't know that my mom is watching me worriedly."

"I will n-" she starts, but Frank holds up a hand to shush his mother.

"Please mom, lying is a sin."

"Don't make me hurt you, boy," she starts.

"Haven't I been hurt enough today?"

"Clearly you haven't," Frank's mom pokes him in his cheek and nods to the other two boys. "I'm sorry you have to witness this."

"Hey, nothing new for me," Mikey answers and heads towards the door with Brendon close behind him.

"See you around, Frank."

"I wish I could say the same," Frank smiles wickedly and the boys just smile back and exit the house.

“Oh by the way Frank,” Brendon starts, “I wasn’t kidding about the driving you to school thing. The bus isn’t the best place in the world.”

“What a nice offer!” Frank mother starts.

“But I’m going to have to turn it down,” Frank says.

“Frank-”

“No,” he says curtly and quiets down to let the two of them leave.

"It was nice meeting you," Mikey says to Frank’s mother.

"It was nice meeting you boys too. Thank you again for helping Frank. Have a great night," with that Frank's mother closes the door and turns back to Frank. "That was very nice of them. Now you and I are going to have a talk to find out what we can do to prevent this kind of event from ever happening again."

Frank sighs exasperatedly, "You said something about a muzzle."

"Yeah, a muzzle," Frank’s mother guides him down the hallway talking a mile a minute.