See The Rust Through Your Playground Eyes

He stood up and sat on the windowsill. He was hyperventilating.

I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. He clung on to me and started trying to even out his breath. He was panicking and taking in big gulps of air. I felt horrible, my poor Frankie was terrified and there was nothing I could do but rub his back and tell him, "It's okay, hun."

After a few minutes he was breathing normally again. I picked him up bridal style and walked to the sofa.

I sat on the sofa, sitting him down on my lap and rocking back and forth slowly.

"What's wrong, hun?"

"H-he was m-mean."

"...who?"

"W-when I w-was l-little, m-mom h-had lot's o-of b-boyfriends." He said, he had a vacant look on his face, not like with the new meds, more like, as if he were remembering something he wished he could forget.

"S-some w-where n-nice, t-they w-would s-say I w-was n-nice. O-others w-where m-mean, s-said I w-was d-dumb." I watched as his eyes filled with tears he refused to let fall.

"S-sometimes w-we w-would l-live w-with t-them." He looked down at his lap and I watched with pain as a single tear rolled down his cheek.

"T-there was a r-really n-nice m-man." he smiled softly at the memory.

"G-Greg. H-he b-bought me a b-bike a-and s-showed me h-how to r-ride it."
Then he frowned, "M-mom s-said we h-had to l-leave b-because he d-didn't h-have e-enough m-money f-for all of u-us."

He wrapped his fingers around my wrist tightly. Looking for some sort of comfort. I pulled him down to the couch, his legs still over my knee, and hugged him close to me.

"T-then t-there w-was a r-really m-mean m-man." Another tear.

"S-Sam. M-mom r-really l-liked him. S-she s-said he w-was 'p-perfect', s-she s-said s-she 'l-loved' h-him." He buried his face in my shoulder.

"H-he w-was n-nice at f-first. B-but w-when m-mom w-wasn't l-looking he w-would p-pull my h-hair a-and s-say m-mean t-things." I felt my hands ball in to fists.

"T-then we w-went to l-live w-with h-him. I d-didn't w-want to, b-but m-mom s-said 'H-he's p-perfect f-for u-us.' a-and I h-had to go." That bitch.
"F-first he w-was n-nice. T-then he s-started to c-call me n-names, l-like 'r-retard' a-and 's-s-scum'." He started to cry. Tears flowing freely from his usually bright, now glazed over hazel eyes.

I could only listen with rage boiling inside of me as he continued, "O-one t-time w-when m-mom w-was o-out h-he s-shaved o-off m-my h-hair. H-he s-said I l-looked l-like a g-girl." I'm going to go on a killing spree.

Frankie cried even more, "M-mom s-said I d-did l-look l-like a g-girl a-and t-that I h-had to o-obey h-him," he cried even more, holding on to my shirt as if it where his life line. I held him close to me, not wanting to ever let go.

I hope that bastard is dead or so help me god I will find him and make him sorry he so much as laied eyes on my Frankie.

He dug his nails in to my shoulder. I hugged him closer to me, burying my nose in his hair and inhaling his vanilla scent.

I ran my fingers through his hair, trying to sooth his aching heart.
How long had he had all this bottled up? My poor Frankie was forced to suffer all of this in silence.

How did Linda not notice this? Someone was hurting her son so much and she didn't realize it? How is that possible? How can you be completely oblivious to something like this? She must either be very stupid or just not care.

I'm leaning towards 'just doesn't care'. As much as it hurt to admit it, I doubt she cares for Frankie. She's never showed interest in him.

"T-then o-one t-time I g-got s-sick a-and f-fell a-sleep i-in t-the d-day. H-he y-yelled at me f-for b-being s-so l-lazy. S-said s-so m-many m-mean t-things, d-don't w-wanna r-remember t-them." That son of a bitch, I will find him and destroy him. He needs to pay for everything he did to my Frankie.

"T-then o-one n-night, we w-were a-all w-watching a m-movie a-and I s-said o-one of t-the g-guys w-was c-cute a-and he w-was so m-mad." His eyes were wide and afraid, like he was reliving everything.

"H-he c-called m-me 'f-f-faggot' a-and 'c-cock s-sucker' a-and 'p-pussy' a-and h-he," he stopped to cry, I rubbed his back and tried to not scream in frustration.

He was put through so much, suffered so much, and there was nothing I could do to help. I couldn't take his pain away, that was all I really wanted right now.

"He t-tried t-to h-hit m-me. T-threw a v-vase b-but m-missed." I tightened my grip on him.
"W-we l-left t-that n-night. M-mom s-sued h-him f-for a-abuse. H-he's i-in j-jail n-now. 'N-no o-one w-will h-hurt m-my b-baby.' m-mom said. A-and s-she t-told me it w-was my f-fault s-she w-was a-always a-alone." he muttered.

It was silent, the only sound was Frankie sniffling. I wish that bastard where free, so I could hunt him down and make his life a living hell.

I can't believe Frankie had to suffer so much. Those are things no one should ever have to go through. And it was all Linda's fault. 'no one will hurt my baby'? That bitch let that idiot hurt Frankie for so long and she didn't even care. She doesn't deserve to be a mother. And her loneliness is Frankie's fault? So her cold heart and bitterness have nothing to do with that?
I rubbed his shoulder and pressed a soft kiss to his hair. "I'll always be here for you, hun. I will believe you and I won't let anyone ever hurt you. I promise you'll be safe here with me."

He looked up at me and smiled, "I b-believe y-you." he whispered.

I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. When I pulled away Frankie frowned at the ground.

"H-had d-dream w-where he c-came in to m-my r-room and t-tried to...h-hurt me." He said. Like he was trying to get his thoughts in order.

"I h-had t-that d-dream b-before!" He suddenly stated.

"M-mom s-said it w-was a d-dream. B-but it f-felt r-real."

I started to get worried.

"What was the dream about, Frankie?" I asked slowly.

Wishing to the high heavens it wasn't what I thought.

"H-he w-would c-come in to m-my r-room at n-night a-and," No, no, no, no. "t-try to t-touch me."
I found myself praying to a god I didn't know I believed in for me to be misinterpreting Frankie.
It can't be what I think it is, it just can't.

"Touch you, as in, your hands?" I asked hopefully.

"N-no." He shook his head.

I gulped. "How did he touch you?"

I didn't want to know. It was going to hurt. I know it's going to be bad, horrible.

"H-he t-tried to t-take o-off my c-clothes." He frowned, did he realize how serious this is?!
This son of a bitch tried to sexually abuse Frankie! Who knew about this? He said Linda told him it was a dream. Why would she try to cover him up? If I where there I would have killed him, put him through as much pain and terror as he put Frankie.

"And Linda didn't believe you?" I asked a few minutes later.

"S-she s-said s-she c-couldn't do n-nothing a-and t-then t-told me i-it was j-just a d-dream." He shrugged and started fiddling with the hem of my shirt.
That bitch. She knew what happened. Frankie was an innocent, in defense little boy and that sick pervert tried to fucking rape him! Frankie came to her for help, his mother his only support. The person that was supposed to defend him against the world, his armor, his guardian, the only person in the world genetically programmed to love him. And she did nothing. She all but sold him out. As long as Sam could maintain her, she would be the loving wife and turn the blind eye to his rape attempt.

At least, I think it was an attempt. Did he really get that far? Did he rape Frankie?

"Frankie, hun," I croaked out, my voice tight from trying to hold back tears, "did he hurt you?"

"N-not r-really, I h-hit h-him a-and y-yelled a-and m-mom c-came in...w-weird d-dream."

I hugged him close to my chest and burying my face in the crook of his neck, wanting to absorve him so no one can ever hurt him. I want to hide him from this horrible, disgusting world.

He hugged back, lightly petting my hair. "Y-you o-okay, Gee-rawrd?"

I sniffled and bit back more tears. "I'm fine, hun."

He scratched at my scalp and pulled me closer.

I can't belive someone would be capable of hurting this angel. This beautiful little boy that deserves nothing but happiness. Why would someone do that? What kind of person can live knowing they hurt a perfect being like Frankie so much?

I pulled away and looked at Frankie, beautiful and inoccent. He didn't deserve that pain, that trauma.

He warpped his arms around my neck and nuzzled in close to me. I held him even tighter, not willing to let go. If I don't protect him, who will?

"I'll never let anybody hurt you, hun. As long as my heart is still beating I'll be there for you. No one will ever hurt you again, I promise."

"I t-trust y-you."

If I ever find that son of a bitch I will do things to him that will make Charles Manson look like Mother Teresa.

I huggedhim even tighter, pulling him imposibly closer. I'll never let anyone hurt him, I'll protect him with my life.

I'd prefer to die for him, than live without him.

Notes

In case you guys weren't already pissed -off because of the cliffhanger- have some abused Frankie!

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