Cemetery Drive

Frank stumbled through the front door and pushed it shut, shoving his shoes off in the hallway.
"Frankie?" his mum called from the kitchen.
"Hey, mum," he smiled at her as he wandered into the kitchen, although he really did not feel like smiling at all.
"I'm so glad to hear you're making a good impression, i'm so proud of you," she gently kissed him on the cheek and rubbed her thumb across it. She smiled at Frank, and watched him pour water into a glass, his hand was shaking slightly.
"Honey are you okay? You're shaking," she took the glass from his hand and gently placed her hands over his, giving him a concerned look.
"Is everything going okay at school? No one's giving you any trouble, are they?" Frank bit his lip ring nervously. He gave her a weak smile and shook his head.
"Of course not, mum. Everything's fine," she let out a sigh of relief and stroked her hand over his hair.
"I'm so happy to hear that. I've been worrying about you so much," she sighed again, sounding more exhausted. She stepped away from Frank and turned around, wrapping her arms around herself. This was something she did a lot, it made her feel safe. Frank felt his heart drop as he heard small sniffs coming from his mother. He stepped closer to her and gently touched her arm.
"Mum?" she shook her head lightly, trying to tell Frank not to worry. But he always did. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly.
"Mum, it's okay. Everything's fine, it's going to be just fine," he said to her, trying to calm her down. She pulled away from Frank and placed both palms on his cheeks, looking him in the eye.
"Your father would be so proud of you," her voice barely a whisper. Frank frowned and shook his head.
"Why would I care what that man thinks?" he said harshly. His mum allowed her arms to fall to her sides and she sighed. Letting out a small 'hmm' before turning around and carrying on chopping vegetables.

Frank flung his bedroom door open and swung it shut again. He stood in the middle of his room for a few seconds, looking around it. He stared at his bed, feeling tears sting his eyes. It looked so big, so empty, so lonely... he slumped against the wall and let himself slide down it until he was sitting down. He brought his knees up and rested his chin on them. He thought back to the day his dad disappeared, left. How his mother cried for hours. How for the next month or so, she had disappeared, not even explaining where she was going. She would just leave him alone for hours. He remembered how his art teacher shouted at him, and how it was similar to how his mum shouted at him when he was younger. But he wasn't a child anymore, but everyone treated him like one. Everyone, especially his mum, treated him like he was the most fragile thing in the world. He hated it. How people were too scared to even say something to him in case it would make him cry. It frustrated him intensely. He thought back to the detention. What had he done so wrong that made the teacher so angry with him? He felt tears roll down his cheeks, gently cooling his skin down a bit. He pulled himself off the floor and sat heavily onto his bed, pulling his bed side drawer open. He rummaged around until his hand felt a small metal tin. He yanked it out and pushed it open, staring down at the blade lying inside it. It had been a while. Frank felt a sudden wave of relief as he scraped the blade across his upper arm. He considered doing the same to his thighs, but decided to stop while he still had control. He pushed the tin to the back of the drawer and slid it shut. He closed his eyes and fell back onto the bed, pulling a blanket over himself. He let out a long, tired sigh before falling into a deep sleep.

Notes

Felt like writing another chapter for you guys. Uh yeah, the comments are great, thank you. (Sorry this chapter is triggering and bad, and yeah, kinda sad. Sorry, the next one will be better, promise.) comment, subscribe, rate etc

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