Frankie Fever

It felt as if I'd been sucked into this huge black hole and like I was just floating through it, awaiting my fate. Would I just float for eternity and never have my fate come for me? Would I be destroyed whilst trapped within the depths of the unknown? Would I make it out alive? Only time could tell.

Thump-a-thump-a-thump-a

Each second felt like ten years.

Dad was looking at me with crossed eyebrows. I gulped hard, my hand resting sub-consciously on the box beside me. My other hand still held my pen, resting casually on the cover of my chem textbook.

"I've been through the medicine box. . ." Dad began, stepping forwards.

Great. Just great.

". . . and there's at least five packets of tablets been missing. And boxes that I'm pretty sure weren't open before are now."

Crapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrap.

I gulped hard again, staring up at Dad from my position on the bed. He crouched down to reach my level and look into my eyes. They were wide and almost concerned. I blinked.

His hand reached out and covered my hand on the box. My gaze wandered down to the box. My heartbeat picked up.

Thumpathumpathumpathumpathumpathumpathumpa-

"D'you wanna' tell me what's going on?" He questioned.

I blinked.

What now? What would I say now?

"Okay," I began quietly, glancing at the closed door again "My friend. Frank, yeah? I like him, I mean really like! I supposed you could say I'm obsessed with him! And basically, I'm on the edge and it feels like I'm gonna' explode! I just thought some of your pills might help move things on!"

"Right," Dad nodded as if I were mad.

Yeah. 'Cause that really happened!

"They're. . . for school," I lied quickly.

Have you ever found that the 'It's for school' excuse is as classic as the 'dog ate my homework' excuse? It always seems just too good to be true but then when it is true, no one believes it. So you prove them wrong after getting in trouble and laugh in their faces, crying 'I told you so!' while waiting triumphantly for the apology. I dunno', maybe I look into things too much.

Dad raised his eyebrows at me as if to say 'Right, do go on!'. I swallowed hard, trying to concoct a lie up in my head. I hate pressure, I really hate it. I'm sure I'm not the first to say that and I won't be the last.

"School?" Dad repeated.

"Yeah. School project. . . domestic dangers!" I said quickly.

Dad's eyebrows seemed to disappear beneath his hairline.

"Toxicity in the home!" I finished, proud of myself.

Dad nodded slowly, scanning over me slowly. I blinked innocently. Then he reached out slowly and tried to take hold of my hand. I pulled my hand back from him. So, instead, he took a gentle hold of my wrist. I blinked again.

"Gerard," He said softly "Are you okay-"

"Don, honey," Mom called, opening my door "Taxi's here!"

She took in the sight before her, blinking in confusion.

"Are you two okay?" She asked.

"Yeah, everything's fine," Dad said "I'll be down in a minute!" He continued getting up and closing the door as Mom turned to leave.

He turned to look at me. I stared up at him from my stretched out position on the bed. Dad opened his mouth but nothing came out. I wanted to smirk.

It's always amusing seeing your parents speechless. They think they know everything and think they rule the world but then here they stand, speechless and unsure of what to say or how they should say it.

"You're not. . . you wouldn't. . ." Dad wavered "You wouldn't do anything stupid, would you?" He questioned almost as if he were concerned.

"Ha," I scoffed "Me? I'm the one who would do something stupid?"

A car horn beeped downstairs.

Dad opened the door and turned to leave.

"Take care of, Mikey," He said firmly "We won't be back late."

Then he left.

I blinked after him, taking in everything he'd said to me. He'd noticed the missing pills. He wanted to 'talk'. He didn't seem sure when I told him about my 'project'. He wanted to check I wasn't gonna' do anything stupid. I twigged straight away.

He thought I was going to kill myself.