Just One More Bite

I really hated our arguments. But, really, I told Frank everything he needed to know about me, and the least he could say is what he is. Emotionless, he turned to face the restroom with a mirror. I heard him whispering again, very discreet, I was hoping to himself. The whispers became more distinct into mumbles and words. Frank wouldn't hold his secret much longer. I pushed the door open, and Frank's hand rested upon my shoulder.

At least, I think it was on my shoulder. I could feel it almost, but not quite, only a small chill resided on my arm. His hand just lay there, with no grip. At least, I think it was his hand. It was pale but almost like a black and white photograph, and it smeared on my shirt like coal. This wasn't Frank.

Or was it? The rest of Frank was also in that black and white photograph style, and around his eyes were especially dark. Those hazel eyes with specks were the only light in the grey, which I found disturbing. A meter or two around him had turned a grey, too.

"Frank," I asked with worry. "What in the world happened?"

Tears started to rush down his cheeks, but appeared to be drops of paint rolling down from his eyes. When he opened his mouth, coal came spewing in the air. "What are you doing in here? It's a freak."

I wanted to hug Frank and tell him everything was going to be alright, but I simply couldn't. I was afraid of getting grey like himself. "Y-you're not a freak."

He pointed down to his appearance and to the greyness around him. "Look at it, it's hideous."

"Why are you calling yourself that?" I was slightly concerned about him calling himself "it".

"I'm not alive, I'm not dead..." he answered.

"How do you know you're not alive?"

"I never lived my life."

"Frankie," I cooed. " It's okay if you're dead."

"I'm not dead!" he hissed. "I never lived and I never died!"

I was silent. How could I figure this out? He wasn't a creature of the living or the dead.

"Then," I asked holding my foot down. "Who are you now?"

Frank sighed. "Need a couple hints first?"

I nodded.

" I haunt the living, I am not a ghost. I leave the living, I never cross the dead. I'm around people who tend to die faster, and I mirror them. Got any guesses?"

His eyes were filled with sorrow. I bit my lip. "No clue."

The coal smoke coming from his lips had gotten on the mirror, and he wiped it immediately, Frank was indeed looking like a faded photograph.

"Gerard..." he paused. "I'm a...."

Notes

(title from Sleeping With Sirens)

and sorry if I confused you...the next chapter will definitely explain what he is. I hope you like the story so far ( i hope ).