Lost soul
Chapter Four- Proof is what I aim for
Frank’s POV
I knew it.
I knew he’d react this way.
It was stupid of me even to imagine that he would believe me. I mean, sure- I’m his best friend. But who would ever believe such a far-fetched story? Now, the one person who knows me the most in the world thinks I’m a nutjob. Great.
Gerard takes a huge gulp. “What?” he repeats, voice saturated in disbelief.
He stares at me as if I’m some hideous monster, mouth slightly open and eyes wide. I can almost hear the erratic thump of his heart. His arms hang limp at his sides, and his legs tremble slightly as he looks me up and down again.
“Gerard, I know this is a surprise, but I need you to believe me,” I beg quietly, wringing my hands nervously and chewing my lip.
“This…this is impossible. You aren’t dead. You’re right here, I can see you, I can hear you,” he mutters, dumbfounded. His jumpy eyes scan me again, as if he really isn’t sure I’m real.
I shake my head sadly. Maybe I can make a joke out of this situation? I chuckle drily and begin speaking again. “Man, Gerard, haven’t you read enough sci-fi horror comics to figure this out?”
He looks thoughtful for a moment, before the obvious answer finally clicks. “You’re a… a ghost?” he asks incredulously, blinking at least twenty times as the words stumbled their way from his now pale and bloodless lips.
I nod and clap my hands together mockingly. “Very good, Mr. Way. You get three gold stars.” Somehow, I manage to stay sarcastic despite how worried and anxious I am.
Gerard’s POV
My head is spinning, like I ‘m on a round-a-bout on top speed. Frank stands in front of me, hands clasped together around his waist and eyes fixated on mine. He’s biting his lip; his eyes seem to be yelling at me to believe him. But how can I? I mean, Frank is a great guy, the best. But he’s telling me that he’s a ghost.
Shitting hell.
A ghost. Either he’s gone delusional or he truly believes that he is a spirit, and that he is dead.
I lick my lips tentatively, contemplating what to say next. His eyes are still glued to mine, and it’s making me uncomfortable. Those eyes- chocolate brown and rimmed with a hint of green- seem too full of pain and worry. Something about his stare felt way too intense for me to be comfortable with it.
I take a deep breath, shifting my eyes away from his glassy gaze and fixing them on a single green weed poking out from under one of the chipped grey flagstones of Frank’s pathway. “Um… F-Frank… I don’t know if I can believe you.”
I glance up to see Frank’s expression. He’s staring straight ahead, at the front door, eyes now dull and emotionless- like the light’s been turned off inside him. Frank’s arms slouch forward, and his already ghastly pale face seems so milky white it nearly blends in perfectly with the huge puffy cloud that’s floating in the soft blue sky behind his head. His face is blank, but I see through his expressionless charade. I’ve known this kid long enough to know when he’s upset, but this is more than upset; I see that instantly. I know he feels like his last chance for sanity had just dissolved right before him. He must be feeling awful.
“It’s not that I think you’re… y’know… weird or anything,” I add awkwardly, afraid I’d hurt his feelings. He nods wordlessly; I can tell he doesn’t believe me. I take another deep breath and start again. “I just need proof, okay?”
Suddenly Frank’s face lights up, his eyes glowing once more. As he turns to face me, he holds up on of his hands, a grin spread wide on his face. I raise my eyebrows at him as he takes a few steps forward, jigging his hand a little.
Before I can ask what the hell he’s doing, he smirks, laughs a little, and plunged his hand into my stomach.
I knew it.
I knew he’d react this way.
It was stupid of me even to imagine that he would believe me. I mean, sure- I’m his best friend. But who would ever believe such a far-fetched story? Now, the one person who knows me the most in the world thinks I’m a nutjob. Great.
Gerard takes a huge gulp. “What?” he repeats, voice saturated in disbelief.
He stares at me as if I’m some hideous monster, mouth slightly open and eyes wide. I can almost hear the erratic thump of his heart. His arms hang limp at his sides, and his legs tremble slightly as he looks me up and down again.
“Gerard, I know this is a surprise, but I need you to believe me,” I beg quietly, wringing my hands nervously and chewing my lip.
“This…this is impossible. You aren’t dead. You’re right here, I can see you, I can hear you,” he mutters, dumbfounded. His jumpy eyes scan me again, as if he really isn’t sure I’m real.
I shake my head sadly. Maybe I can make a joke out of this situation? I chuckle drily and begin speaking again. “Man, Gerard, haven’t you read enough sci-fi horror comics to figure this out?”
He looks thoughtful for a moment, before the obvious answer finally clicks. “You’re a… a ghost?” he asks incredulously, blinking at least twenty times as the words stumbled their way from his now pale and bloodless lips.
I nod and clap my hands together mockingly. “Very good, Mr. Way. You get three gold stars.” Somehow, I manage to stay sarcastic despite how worried and anxious I am.
Gerard’s POV
My head is spinning, like I ‘m on a round-a-bout on top speed. Frank stands in front of me, hands clasped together around his waist and eyes fixated on mine. He’s biting his lip; his eyes seem to be yelling at me to believe him. But how can I? I mean, Frank is a great guy, the best. But he’s telling me that he’s a ghost.
Shitting hell.
A ghost. Either he’s gone delusional or he truly believes that he is a spirit, and that he is dead.
I lick my lips tentatively, contemplating what to say next. His eyes are still glued to mine, and it’s making me uncomfortable. Those eyes- chocolate brown and rimmed with a hint of green- seem too full of pain and worry. Something about his stare felt way too intense for me to be comfortable with it.
I take a deep breath, shifting my eyes away from his glassy gaze and fixing them on a single green weed poking out from under one of the chipped grey flagstones of Frank’s pathway. “Um… F-Frank… I don’t know if I can believe you.”
I glance up to see Frank’s expression. He’s staring straight ahead, at the front door, eyes now dull and emotionless- like the light’s been turned off inside him. Frank’s arms slouch forward, and his already ghastly pale face seems so milky white it nearly blends in perfectly with the huge puffy cloud that’s floating in the soft blue sky behind his head. His face is blank, but I see through his expressionless charade. I’ve known this kid long enough to know when he’s upset, but this is more than upset; I see that instantly. I know he feels like his last chance for sanity had just dissolved right before him. He must be feeling awful.
“It’s not that I think you’re… y’know… weird or anything,” I add awkwardly, afraid I’d hurt his feelings. He nods wordlessly; I can tell he doesn’t believe me. I take another deep breath and start again. “I just need proof, okay?”
Suddenly Frank’s face lights up, his eyes glowing once more. As he turns to face me, he holds up on of his hands, a grin spread wide on his face. I raise my eyebrows at him as he takes a few steps forward, jigging his hand a little.
Before I can ask what the hell he’s doing, he smirks, laughs a little, and plunged his hand into my stomach.