The loud sound banging continued as Frankie snapped out of his sleeping state. The echo of his nightmare played one last hurrah in his mind, sending that loud crashing noise spiraling out of his consciousness. He peers around the room, blinking a few times to try and bring the world into focus. He clears the rest of his dream from his thoughts, shaking his head a few times and blinking again. The sun’s lazy approach into his bedroom window gave enough of a sign that the day has arrived— the day of his birthday! He gives a small smile at that thought, and gets out of bed. Now that he’s fully clothed, Frankie opens his door and casually walks to the kitchen, remembering that, during previous birthdays, the cabinets always held some treat for him for breakfast. He smiles and wraps his hands along the grooves of the handles and— while taking a few moments for added effect— opens the door.
To reveal bare boards, which stare back at him in mock. It takes a few minutes to fully comprehend what was before him.
So they forgot his ‘special’ breakfast. Well… he wasn’t going to let that ruin his whole day, now was he? No! In fact, maybe his parents decided to skip breakfast to save up for something else! Yeah, maybe his mother and father were going to come home with a chessboard, or an entire cake, or even a GameBoy!
If only he knew…
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
The walk to the bus stop was about as lively as a scarecrow. The clouds looking down upon the world, swollen and depressed, the grass lay dead to the world as the careless wind pushed and pulled them in opposing directions.
However, it was Frankie who was looking upbeat. Practically shining a new light around him, giving anything within its radius life again.
And the smile.
It had been a long time since he’d smiled like the one he wore today. For he felt today would be a good day. A day to remember, where not only was his birthday celebrated, but maybe… just maybe… he didn’t lose.
He thought of the pool from the night prior, and that did little to nothing in stopping his smile. The soft glow of the pool’s waters, the warm glow from the streetlights… it all just made him grow a bit happier than before. He contemplated on spending some more time there, instead of the Roof. Maybe he could bring over a few things… like a desk and candlelight. Hey, yeah, maybe he could make that pool his official ‘hang out’ spot! He could bring some old cassettes he found, and use his grand father’s cassette player, or— or maybe even sleep out there? A camp out! These ideas were plain perfect!
He stopped short. Could he? No… no way that would ever happen. Not in a thousand years— even if he lived that long!— would he get a girlfriend. But still… the idea of sharing his place with her did sort of help add to the smile… whoever ‘her’ might be.
The roar of the bus brought him back to reality, making him jump a little. The door opened up showing the same glare he’d grown accustom to. Frankie didn’t even need to be told once; he’d already jumped into the bus before the driver opened his mouth! He smile wavered for a second, when he caught a glimpse of Creen, who seemed a little questioning at Frankie’s state.
‘Oh goody, this fag again.’ Creen thought as he glared daggers towards the smiling teenager that stood at the front of the bus. ‘Fuck it, my arm is too sore, I’ll just deal with him for later.’
Frankie walked on by Creen, still a broad smile plastered onto his face. He takes a seat in the very back of the bus as it starts up again and jars forward.
“Hey Frankie! Yeah, dickwad I’m talking to you!” Creen hollered back at him. “What’s with your gay-ass smile, fucko? Finally tell your parents about your closet situation?”
The crowd of his peers all laughed together, some pointing, some bro-fisting Creen as they look at the Frankie’s face for any sign of hurt. Too bad, the only thing they got in return was the same smile untouched by the vulgar language.
“You know, I’d love to chat about my parental issues and what not, but I think I’ll pass!”
“The fuck’s with you today, faggot?”
Frankie looked at the ground, searching for the right words to say, but couldn’t think of anything. “Hmm, well let’s just say that I think today’s my day.”
“Oh yeah?” Creen turned back, facing the front of the room. So that little ass thinks he owns today? Yeah… yeah I’ll fucking show him….
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
The day wore on as it normally does. Well. Not entirely. Frankie got his homework turned in on time, much to the teacher’s dismay.
“Oh, what’s this? Finally decide to complete an assignment, Frankie?” Mr. Makkoy said eying the paper with slight irritation.
“Yes, Mr. Makkoy. And this time, the problems are correct.” Frankie says as he takes his seat in the middle of the classroom.
“Hm, yes, well,” the teacher sets the paper down on his desk, “Well just see about that, won’t we.”
The school bell rung, indicating the tardy sweep was now in effect. Peers slowly trickled into the room, taking their seats, and starting the class warm up.
“Well class!”
The students looked up from their work.
“It appears one particular student did his homework. So what better way then to use his sheet as a correcting paper? Take out your homework, kids, lets review last night’s homework.” He places Frankie’s worksheet on the overhead projector, displaying his answers and work. Then, Makkoy took out his corrected sheet to compare the answers.
“Hmmm…” he shifted his prescription glasses to see them. “Well.” He turned and looked Frankie in the eye. “I’d say you failed just about every single one of these problems.”
Frankie flinched just a tiny bit at that. Not his entire body, but enough to notice his reaction. The class was a mix of laughing, name-calling, and face palming, all gesturing towards Frankie’s failure as a student.
Again.
How long has it been since he’s been in this class, now? Two… maybe three years? It never changes for him, does it? Same lousy jerk of a teacher. Same lousy guys making fun of him. The memory of the pool comes to mind, and he can’t help but focus on the waters… the cool, wavy, comforting waters. He closes his eyes, and tries to imagine that lovely pool again…
A small tad-bit— nothing more!— of a thought slivered its way into mind. Jumping into those waters. And not coming out.
Wait, WHAT?!
He quickly pulls his head up from his desk, peering around the room to find class is already half way through today’s notes. Had he fallen asleep? It seemed like it, the drool trail didn’t just randomly show up unannounced.
Frankie shook his head a bit clearing his mind of the sleepy state. Did he really just think of that? Killing himself? No he couldn’t of, there wouldn’t be a reason to in the first place!
However there was something about that pool, something that made him believe there was… he didn’t know… something on the other side of that surface. Because, let’s face it: it’s not like water ever gave him happy feelings when he was around it. In fact, it should do the opposite, shouldn’t it? After all, when he was three, his mother forgot him in the bathtub overnight, so shouldn’t it have scarred him up till now?
A knock snapped him from his thoughts, and he found himself staring into the eyes of Mr. Makkoy.
“As. I. Was. Saying.” He turned and walked back to the front of the classroom. “Can anyone tell me the answer to problem four?” He looked at the classroom, and met Frankie’s eyes yet again. “What about you, Alagarri? Any answer you’d like to share with us today?”
“Uh… well… is it—“
The bell rung, signaling that the class was over, and saving Frankie from even more embarrassment. Not all he had to do was get through…
.... Oh no.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
Just act like you don’t matter, stay low, stay low, Frankie thought as he carefully got to the aisle serving salads. Ok, ok, so far so good. He walked by a table filled with the ‘popular’ kids. Hey. They didn’t acknowledge me, best day so far—!
“Hey, well look who it is?” Creen said, as the rest of his group came into view.
Son of a bi—
“Oogh!” Frankie groaned as he was sent sprawling to the floor, throwing his tray of food down onto the ground to the right of him. “Nngh!” He tried getting up, fighting the urge to run away from all of this… to… to fight back! Pulling himself up onto his knees, he felt the sensation of a splitting bite in his chest, and heard the sound of a small crack!
“Ha, yeah, yeah just come right up, faggot.” Creen said with a smile. “C’mon, dickhead, I said get up! Fight me you piece of shit!” He kicked him, hard, in the side of his torso causing him to double over.
Just do it, faggot. Just do it faggot, Frankie heard over and over again in his head. All these years getting pushed around, made fun of, ridiculed. Those were going to end once and for all.
He was going to fight back!
With pain-filled seconds, he managed to push himself up to his knees, and climbed up to a standing position. He glowered at Creen, eyes practically glowing with rage. He took the moment and struck.
The feeling and sound of his fist connect with Creen’s skull was one of miracles. True, it hurt like hell, but it was worth it. Or so he thought.
Chris wheeled around in a circle, using the momentum from Frankie’s hit to spin around and nail Frankie dead in the chin. The pain was almost instantaneous. He fell backward onto the ground again, unable to breathe properly.
Creen walked up to him, and grabbed him by his hair; hoisting him up so he could whisper, “See what happens when you fight back? You lose. You’ll always lose, and there isn’t a dog-pile-of-shit you can do about it.” He let go of Frankie’s crop of hair, dropping his head to the cold surface.
Well… so much for that plan…
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
The walk home was an excruciating one. The sharp stabs of pain in his side have diminished to merely a dull ache at this point. However, it was the large bruise on his chin that left its mark. The splitting ache had diminished (sort of) to a splitting headache, at this point. Not exactly how he envisioned how his day would turn out, but still…
Come on, think positive, think, think, think!
…He… he couldn’t think of anything. Not one single thought came to mind that lifted his spirit, touched his heart, or even gave him a smile.
Nothing.
The only things accompanying his mind were memories after memories of what he had to go through. His life spent avoiding Creen, and soon being beaten by Creen. His history with his father, how he slowly began to turn to the abusive man he is today. His mother… oh his mother…
The day turned from depressed clouds, and dead grass to something far worse. The day had grown darker with the presence of even more clouds, growing in size and thickness. It looked as if God had decided to close the shades in his universe, diming every single corner of the world. Wind began growing stronger, still, howling in Frankie’s ears no matter where he turned. He stiffed up his collar in an attempt to block out the biting cold. As he walked home, he let his mind wander back into the depths of the pool.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
Sofas, begging to be incinerated, cut-out and wobbly coffee tables, and dead carpet met his gaze with sorrow and longing.
He found a note taped to the doorway, and looked at it. As he picked it up, he found two yellow gloves. He read the note:
Take care of this kitchen; I’ll be back in an hour.
He flipped to the other side of the paper, but found nothing else written. As he stepped into the kitchen, he found the usual mess beyond recognition of filthy dishes pleading to be washed, floorboards matted with black bile of what can only be described as ‘dirt,’ and scattered bits of food lying every-which-way.
Frankie sighed in exasperation, and then calmed himself. It’s ok, it’s ok, I’m sure she’s just making me do these chores to distract me while she gets a present. At least… I hope.
He began working on the kitchen, first picking up the dishes and washing them. One by one, dish by dish, he worked on them scouring away the pieces of food and leftover sauce. The stench of the heated water mixing with the bile made him cringe with disgust. He placed another dish into the dishwasher, and started again on the next food-grimed dish.
Wait…
Food?!
When was there ever this much food in one day? had… had his father actually used the check in something other than booze? Had they spent money on food for him, their son? He dropped the dishes and flung open the cupboard doors.
To find more wallpaper.
And more space.
And more dust.
Everything was there, just no food.
Frankie didn’t move an inch, at the thought that maybe… maybe his eyes were just playing tricks on him. Yeah… yeah maybe he just needed his eyes to adjust, and then he’d see the stockpile of candies, cereals, and other wonderful delicacies normal people called “snacks.”
But after waiting for five entire minutes nothing had changed. Still bare walls gazing upon his face, willing that he’d leave them alone.
He broke his gaze from the cupboards and stared at the dishes, think intently on how these dishes even became lewd in the first place. So… they ate dinner without me? Not even saying sorry for it? Or saying anything at all?!
He felt something cold grow in his chest and soon after felt nothing of emotions. He didn’t bother thinking about it, just started again on the kitchen, waiting for his parents to bring him a birthday….
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
The door opened, waking Frankie from his sleep. he checked himself, and found a noticeable drool trail lining his shirt. I should take care of this one of these— wait my parents!
His eyes shot open, now alert and focused, and felt the lingering presence of a smile playing its way onto his face. He got up and bent his back to stretch out his worn muscles— caused both by Creen and the kitchen’s wrath.
“Hey mom! How was your day?”
“How did you know it was me?” Her voice called back, sounding monotone and bored.
“Oh well, when you live long enough around here, it’s easy to distinguish sou—“
“HEY!” His mom shouted. “…Did I ask for a fucking math problem?”
Frankie cowered back a bit, “Uh… no, no I was just—“
“Yeah, yeah, I don’t give a fuck.” She walked into the kitchen and surveyed the scene before her, scowling at everything in her view. “Again.”
“…What?”
“What you got shit in your ears? I said AGAIN!” She grabbed a stray dish and threw it to the ground, causing an ear-splitting crash to pierce through the heavy silence.
“You mean, clean the kitchen again?” Frankie said, obvious dismay pouring from his voice.
“Yeah,” she spat into the sink.
“Uh… mom… I wanted to know if…” Frankie mumbled his question, rubbing the back of his neck and breaking eye contact.
“What the fuck is it?”
“Well you know how it’s my birthday?”
She stared at him, implying him to ‘get on with it.’
“Would there, by any chance, be any kind of… uh… you know… birthday present?”
“Oh yeah, today’s your birthday, eh?” His mom scratched under her chin, “Eh. Sorry I don’t care anymore.”
The emotion was evident on Frankie’s face.
“Oh don’t be such a pussy! You don’t deserve shit anymore, since you’re at that age now.” She walked off to her room. “And don’t even think you’re father’s going to get you anything.” She snickered, “I mean… besides your birthday punches.
Frankie walked to the living room couch, and sat down, staring at the space in front of him. No present today. No present today. No son today.
No son today.
No son…
\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/
The cold bit on his arms and legs, but he didn’t care.
The wind scrapped his bare skin and watered his eyes, but he didn’t care.
Life, as he knew it, was nothing but oblivion, but he didn’t care.
He just wanted to get to that damn pool, so he could feel that wonderful feeling again, that feeling of happiness… that feeling… of wholeness. True, the blackberry bushes tore at his skin and flesh, causing mild sores and cuts to open up on his feet and ankles. By this time, the clouds had made way, and began to let forth a massive downpour of rain, soaking into his wounds, and wetting his eyes. Left by right, foot by foot, he managed to get out of that retched house, and now walks the path to his sanctuary, The Pool. He tried the Roof, but it just wasn’t working. No matter what he didn’t there was just no way he could get the thoughts of the Pool out of his head. That and… well… he didn’t want to be around his parents anymore. Not just for the night, or the week, or month. No… he didn’t want to be around anyone right now, or ever. He’d thought it over, killing himself seemed the best approach for the hell hole of a life he must survive on a day to day, basis.
What are you doing?!
What does it look like. I’m going to my home.
Home? Home?! Your home is THERE!! Where your parents are, what the hell is with you?!
Screw my parents, I’m sick, and I’m tired, and I’m frustrated at them.
So are all kids with their parents, that doesn’t mean you need to go an off yourself like this!
Now, if it were just one day, I could manage. But they’ve treated my like this for years… maybe even my entire life. I’m lucky I even survived as an infant, for fuck’s sake! Then again maybe no—
Quit your crying! I don’t give a shit about what they’ve done in the past, which is gone and left in the sand! You should be worried about the present—!
I am worried about the present; I’m worried that I’ll continue to live this way, succumbing to my daily struggles, and eventually giving in to their demands.
You already are giving into their demands! Just live with it for a few more years, and you can kiss them goodbye!
No… I can’t stand to live with them for that long, besides, I can already tell I’m going to be killed by one of them soon enough, might as well off myself now while I have the chance to decide any fate of mine.
Why the hell would you think they would kill you?! That’s just stupid!
I know them, my dad beats the living crap out of me, even worse than what Creen does! And my mom… I don’t want to go into detail about what she has done to me…
But don’t you get it? You’re looking into the past and present to get a feeling of hopelessness so you can—
You’re repeating yourself. Stop it.
Frankie’s train of thought was broken from the rush of energy he felt as he stepped into the Pool’s boundaries. The feeling of doubt slowly cascaded off of his spirit, and he felt his posture rise, and his feet rise just a bit higher off the ground.
You see? This is why I came here. It’s such a lovely spot for…
Killing yourself.
Yes.
He walked into the pool of water, clothes and all, and began floating on the water’s surface. The sensation can only be described of bliss. Something he hadn’t felt in…. in…
“Ever.” He said aloud, as he opened his eyes for one last view of the sky above. The stars glowed with such intensity, illuminating the space around them, taking their light and glory and slowly sprinkling it down onto Earth, letting each and every speck fall into the cracks and crevices of everywhere. He blinked slowly, letting the rain droplets wash over his face, and willing his eyes to stay open for the droplets to clean them. He turned his head, facing the direction of the city lights, taking them in and analyzing their colors they held. Sharp daggers of yellow, soft hues of blue, and vibrant zaps of purple danced in his eyes. He sighed in content, letting the fluid wash over his body, cleaning the filth of the past off of his soul.
Now for the closing motion….
He slowly breathed out, and dived down into the depths of the pool, where he found a suitable root to grab. With haste, he tied a sturdy knot from his clothes onto the underwater trunk. When that was finished… he waited…
…He couldn’t hold it any longer. Frankie’s lungs just had to have something of any kind to fill the empty space in them. With many attempts to try to cough the water out of his body, he thought of what Creen had said to him, only a few hours ago.
You lose. You’ll always lose, and there isn’t a dog-pile-of-shit you can do about it.
He let go. No longer fighting the will of the liquid, yet welcoming it, as it trickled down his esophagus, and further into his lung passage ways. Yet in all that time, the only thing he could think of… could feel was the feeling of new life.
Not dying, and going to heaven, or hell, or wherever he was going to go, but rather… a new place. Someplace safe.
Someplace whole.
Someplace…
…Safe.
Author's Notes:
Sorry, everypony, for the time it took to write this chapter! (you wouldn't believe how difficult filler chapter can be!) I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did! Thanks, and don't forget to: Track, Comment, and Rate! <3