Status: Hiatus
As God Has Made Us.
Chapter 3-Frank
Every day for the next two weeks I went to the library and checked my e-mail, to see if anyone had responded to my e-mails.
Everyday I got the same thing.
Nothing.
It made me feel even worse than my parents’ harsh treatment alone. I was so close to just giving up and trying to find a way to kill myself like I had been doing for years now. There really no way. I’d tried everything from slitting my throat to shooting myself to standing in front of a train. Even stepping on the third rail in a subway tunnel did not kill me.
I sighed.
My life had become nothing but trying to find ways to end it.
I sat up straight as the bell rang scaring me slightly before getting up and walking to my second block class. Only three more blocks until I could go to the library one last time before continuing in with trying to end my life. XxXxX
The three blocks passed quickly. I sat in the back of every class and ignored the looks and names and pieces of paper thrown at me like I did everyday.
When the final bell rang, I gathered my stuff slowly, dreading going into the hallways because of the jocks that were always there waiting to pounce and torture “Their little fag boy.”
“Frank aren’t you going home?” the teacher, Ms. Roberts I believe, asked me.
She was young, fresh out of college; probably not sure what to do with a messed up kid like me in her class.
I nodded and headed out the door, ignoring the look of sympathy she gave me as I walked out.
I shuffled down the almost empty hallway, just waiting for one of my many tormentors to appear out of no where. But surprisingly none of them did and I was able to leave the school grounds in peace for the first time in what felt like forever.
Even though I felt free for once I still walk quickly enjoying the cold winter wind stinging my checks.
I walked into the library and gave the librarian a small smile before dropping my messenger next to a computer, sitting down and logging on.
I opened the internet browser and waited for the site to load, impatiently tapping my fingers on the keyboard.
The page finally loaded and I quickly signed on, huffing as I waited for the page to load again.
When it finally loaded again I almost screamed.
Almost.
Because for once in my life the computer said, in that annoying robot man voice:
“You Have Mail!”
Oh. My. God.
I opened up my email and almost screamed again.
The e-mail was from the one site I had wanted to respond.
The guy from iknowwhatyourthinking.com answered me.
Holy. Crap.
I quickly read what he wrote.
Subject: Hello.
To: loser101@megastar.com
From: marvelway@iknowwhatyourethinking.net
Dear Frank,
It's nice to meet you. My name is Gerard. I'm 22 years old and as you know I'm 'special', too. I have the ability to read minds. I can also alter a person's thoughts, you know, like their dreams and their opinions sort of.
I'm curious, when you said you can't feel pain did you mean you don't feel the pain or did you mean that the wounds just...heal themselves?
Reply soon sorry I didn't, I was kidnapped.
Gerard
I laughed to myself as I read the last bit, laughing a bit more when the librarian gave me an odd look.
She was old and decrypted looking but one of the friendliest people I had ever met, and that was saying something.
I considered her my only friend.
I hit the reply button and started typing.
Subject: [ No Subject ]
To: marvelway@iknowwhatyourethinking.net
From: loser101@megastar.com
Gerard-
You can change people thoughts? That must come in handy.. When I said I can’t feel pain I meant that the wounds just heal themselves. I can still feel the pain. Which sucks. You were kidnapped? By who? I wanna know now.
Your turn to reply soon.
-Frank
I read it over for any errors before hitting send. I logged off the computer and got up grabbing all of my stuff and leaving the library back to the hell hole I live in.
Everyday I got the same thing.
Nothing.
It made me feel even worse than my parents’ harsh treatment alone. I was so close to just giving up and trying to find a way to kill myself like I had been doing for years now. There really no way. I’d tried everything from slitting my throat to shooting myself to standing in front of a train. Even stepping on the third rail in a subway tunnel did not kill me.
I sighed.
My life had become nothing but trying to find ways to end it.
I sat up straight as the bell rang scaring me slightly before getting up and walking to my second block class. Only three more blocks until I could go to the library one last time before continuing in with trying to end my life. XxXxX
The three blocks passed quickly. I sat in the back of every class and ignored the looks and names and pieces of paper thrown at me like I did everyday.
When the final bell rang, I gathered my stuff slowly, dreading going into the hallways because of the jocks that were always there waiting to pounce and torture “Their little fag boy.”
“Frank aren’t you going home?” the teacher, Ms. Roberts I believe, asked me.
She was young, fresh out of college; probably not sure what to do with a messed up kid like me in her class.
I nodded and headed out the door, ignoring the look of sympathy she gave me as I walked out.
I shuffled down the almost empty hallway, just waiting for one of my many tormentors to appear out of no where. But surprisingly none of them did and I was able to leave the school grounds in peace for the first time in what felt like forever.
Even though I felt free for once I still walk quickly enjoying the cold winter wind stinging my checks.
I walked into the library and gave the librarian a small smile before dropping my messenger next to a computer, sitting down and logging on.
I opened the internet browser and waited for the site to load, impatiently tapping my fingers on the keyboard.
The page finally loaded and I quickly signed on, huffing as I waited for the page to load again.
When it finally loaded again I almost screamed.
Almost.
Because for once in my life the computer said, in that annoying robot man voice:
“You Have Mail!”
Oh. My. God.
I opened up my email and almost screamed again.
The e-mail was from the one site I had wanted to respond.
The guy from iknowwhatyourthinking.com answered me.
Holy. Crap.
I quickly read what he wrote.
Subject: Hello.
To: loser101@megastar.com
From: marvelway@iknowwhatyourethinking.net
Dear Frank,
It's nice to meet you. My name is Gerard. I'm 22 years old and as you know I'm 'special', too. I have the ability to read minds. I can also alter a person's thoughts, you know, like their dreams and their opinions sort of.
I'm curious, when you said you can't feel pain did you mean you don't feel the pain or did you mean that the wounds just...heal themselves?
Reply soon sorry I didn't, I was kidnapped.
Gerard
I laughed to myself as I read the last bit, laughing a bit more when the librarian gave me an odd look.
She was old and decrypted looking but one of the friendliest people I had ever met, and that was saying something.
I considered her my only friend.
I hit the reply button and started typing.
Subject: [ No Subject ]
To: marvelway@iknowwhatyourethinking.net
From: loser101@megastar.com
Gerard-
You can change people thoughts? That must come in handy.. When I said I can’t feel pain I meant that the wounds just heal themselves. I can still feel the pain. Which sucks. You were kidnapped? By who? I wanna know now.
Your turn to reply soon.
-Frank
I read it over for any errors before hitting send. I logged off the computer and got up grabbing all of my stuff and leaving the library back to the hell hole I live in.