Brown Eyes

Frank’s POV

I peeked through the thin gap of the cubical door. I was waiting for the kid that was messing about by the sink to leave.

“Hurry up,” I mouthed. I pushed the door open more and cringed at the loud creak.

The boy turned sharply, scanning the room.

“Hello?” He called out, I kept quite. He left the bathrooms and I did a silent dance in the cubical. Creeping out, I noticed he had left a note, I walked over and took it from behind the sink. Slowly tearing the envelope open, I pulled out the sheet.

It was dotted.

I raised my eyebrow and shoved it back into the envelope. I jetted out of the bathroom like a hunted deer, trying to catch up with the kid. I looked up and down the long hallway and saw three figures standing over one on the floor.

“Hey! Get off of him!” I shouted, running to the end of the hall. The three mysterious figures ran off while shouting obscenities and laughing, possibly at us both.

“Are you okay?” I asked, holding out my hand for him.

“What do you think? I’ve just lost my stick. Oh, man. Mom is gonna go crazy,” He kicked over a bin, though I’m sure he didn’t mean to because he stumbled a little. ‘Stick?’ I wondered. He dodged my hand, standing up himself and brushing down his clothes.

“I was only trying to be polite,” I scoffed.

“Yeah, well, I bet you’re like the rest of them…” He scowled under his breath.

“What did you say?” I pushed his shoulder.

“Oh, right,” He laughed, “Trying to be polite by pushing a blind person?” I stopped in my tracks. Blind? But he seemed pretty aware of what he was doing. No, surely he was lying?

“B-blind?” I muttered. “Wow, I’m really sorry, man.”

“It’s okay, I get that a lot,” He sighed. I looked down at the now slightly crumpled note in my hand.

“I saw you drop this, I didn’t understand it, sorry,” I placed the note into his hand as his pale face turned a deep shade of red. He put it into the front pocket of his hoody with another sigh. I stared at him for a little while, wondering what he was thinking. I bet he thought I was a complete and utter piece of crap. Or maybe that his Mom really will go crazy when he gets home. “What’s your name?”

“Gerard, you?”

A smile brightened his face with enthusiasm. “I’m Frank,” I replied.

“Listen, I know this might sound a little strange, but I could give you a ride home since your stick got broken.”

“The only day my Mom let’s me walk home, I get my fifth stick broken. I guess I could use the ride,” He smiled some more, “Thanks.” He held out his hand. I pondered for a second what he was trying to do.

“I’m blind, dummy, how am I meant to know where to walk?” He joked. I laughed and took his hand in mine. It felt strange to hold his hand, big compared to mine and a lot rougher, but it felt good at the same time. I gently pulled him along as we walked together to my car. Part of me was glad he could see my ‘dumpster-on-wheels’ as I liked to call it.

I unlocked the door and helped him inside. I skipped to the drivers door and slid inside, shutting the door with a bang. The scented pine freshener hit me in the forehead as the scent wafted throughout the car.

“Where do you live?” I asked as I plugged in the belt.

“Just past OldMans Creek,” He replied looking straight ahead.

“Serious? Heh, not too far from me,” I smiled to myself. The car ride was long and awkward. I kept flicking through the radio, trying to find something to break the silence.

“Would you quite changing it?” He laughed. I chortled nervously and twisted the button once more. Sweet Home Alabama rang from the fuzzy speakers.

“This song rules,” We said in unison and guffawed loudly, singing along to the radio. Gerard began to dance in his seat while clicking his fingers and singing. His voice was really good.

We came past the OldMans Creek sign, it was hanging from it’s rusty hinges, begging to be torn. Swinging lightly in the breeze.

The homes this way were really stately, I mean, really. Stately.

“What turning?”

“Second.”

I turned up the second turning, stopping at the top of the hill. There were two rows of houses either side, both as amazing as the other. Gerard stepped out of the car and turned a full circle.

“That’s my house,” He pointed, “Number 14.” I gasped. He was pointing distinctly at Number 14.

“How the f…rick did you know that?!”

He shrugged and smiled.

“Thanks for the ride, I’ll see you tomorrow-”

A woman, most likely in her forties, came screeching from the porch, taking away the serenity of the street.

“Gerard! Where in the hell have you been?!” She screeched, pulling him in by his backpack.

“Mom! I was with Frank, I’m okay!” She twisted her head at me, looking as if she was going to rip my head off. “He gave me a ride.”

“You know you’re not meant to ride with strangers!” She turned back to me, “Get out of here, you little vermin!” Gerard laughed, causing her to snap her head back towards him.

“Mom, he gave me a ride after some guys broke my stick. I could’ve walked home alone, but he scared them off and brought me home. You can’t call him vermin!” He laughed.

She blushed violently. I shuffled my feet against the loose stones in the road. She cleared her throat after letting Gerard go.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise. Thanks for bringing him home,” She flashed a short smile.

“No problem, see you at school tomorrow,” I waved and ventured back to my car.

*_*_*

I walked up to the tall fence that led to my back door. It was locked as I found out from tearing the lock so much it fell off into my hands.

“What’s all this noise?” I heard a voice from above me. It was my little Sister, well, not so little anymore. “Jackass,” She poked her tongue out. I climbed over the fence but lost my footing on the top, slipping, and falling on my back.

“Ah, fuck,” I seethed, groaning as my back tensed.

I looked up and saw Leah at the back door, grumbling, I lay my head back down.

“I should tell Mom you’re swearing bu-uuut…If you make me some of those amazing cookies, I won’t?” She bribed. I raised an eyebrow.

“Why my cookies?”

“I’m PMSing and I could really use with them,” She joked and helped me to my feet. I brushed the leaves and mud from my shirt before sighing and making my way inside of the house.

My Sister and I were so close you couldn’t put a pin between us. We weren’t like other Siblings, we really did care for each other so much, sometimes I thought too much, but she knew everything about me and vice versa.

I rushed inside, throwing my shoes into the hallway and racing to my room. I felt disgusted in myself. I didn’t deserve to socialize, I was what Gerard’s Mom called me: vermin. I was disgusting and I didn’t deserve to have friends. I closed the bedroom door and sat down behind it, hugging my knees tightly into my chest so much so I couldn’t catch my breath. I heard a faint tap as something slipped from my pocket.

I reached down and picked up my favourite green lighter. I rolled the flint back, pressing hard down on the gas and watching the flame as it swayed and danced. I raised my arm above it and slowly watched as the flame became entangled with my arm, circling it, the orange glow reflecting on my skin.

“Shit,” I muttered, tossing the lighter under my bed. I sighed and pressed my forehead into my knees once more.

“Frank? Frank! I thought you were making cookies?!”

I sat silent, not answering her. I stood up slowly, steadying myself on the door handle. I crept down the stairs, tracing my hand over each banister bar. I peered through one. Leah was sat in the living room flicking through the TV channels, unaware of what I was doing upstairs. Completely oblivious. I felt sick to my stomach.

Plastering a grin to my face, I walked passed the living room door. As I stood, mixing ingredients, I found my mind wandering.

I wonder what’s it’s like to be blind? But then, of course, if I asked, he would be offended. Which is totally reasonable…I guess. I closed my eyes hard and imagined what it was like.

“Are they done yet?” Leah asked, nuzzling into my chest. She squeezed me and I let out a faint yelp. “Frank? What’s wrong?”

Her glassy, brown eyes- the same as Gerard’s- looked up at me. “I don’t know, Leah,” I sighed. She tilted her head. It felt like an invisible hand covered my mouth, telling me not to speak or else; I sighed into her hair.

The oven pinged and as I bent down to open the door, my sleeve pulled up to reveal the fresh burn.

“Frank, what’s this?” She asked, pulling my arm towards her. I stuttered, stumbling over my words while trying to think of an excuse.

“I-I tripped…outside. I tripped down the porch steps,” I felt my hands clam up and prayed that she wouldn’t realise I was lying.

“Ouch, I’ll go get you something for it,” She trailed off to the bathroom. I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand and sighed. I was safe this time.