Every Burden Has a Version

“Can I open my eyes now?” I asked, vociferously. “I’ve been walking with my eyes shut for, like, a mile. You’re my guide dog.”

Frank decided to blindfold me with his bandana in his back pocket as a surprise after our little quarrel.

“Yeah, open your eyes,” Frank responded.

I took off the bandana and lifted up my eyelids to see Frank’s old house. “Frank, no way!” I shifted my eyes to the driveway to see a blue P.T. Cruiser. “Is your mom here?”

Frank bobbed his head.

I let out a scream and busted down Frank’s mom’s front door.

“Linda,” I yelled. “I’m back!”

She was sitting on the couch with a cup of tea in her hand a plate of pastries on her lap.

“Violet Murkowski, is that you?” Linda boldly questioned, glancing at me with a distant look on her face. She stood up, putting her cup and plate on the fireplace mantel. Walking over to me, Frank came up behind me, and pushed me towards Linda.

“Hey, hey, girlfriend,” I laughed. I hugged on to her frivolously, but she insisted on squeezing me compactly.

“Violet, you’re here,” she whispered. “Frank,” she began to announce, pulling away from me, “you didn’t tell me Violet was coming here.”

“I wanted to surprise you, Mom.” Frank smiled as his mom calmly.

“Oh, Violet, you have your own TV show now, don’t you? I saw it while changing the channels today.” Linda placed her hand on my cheek. “It’s a miracle to see you.”

“It’s not really my own show,” I declared. “I just come on it sometimes.” Frank nudged me in the back. “But, how are you doing? I missed you so much. I apologize for everything.” I embraced her quickly.

“Violet, no need to apologize,” she said, softly. “I’m just thankful you are here. I’ve been great though. Frank is happy so I’m happy.”

I turned around to face Frank, wrapping my arm around his waist. “What a good son you are.” I pinched his cheek with two fingers causing Linda to awe.

Frank blew raspberries in my face.

“Where are my manners?” Linda interrupted Frank’s moment of discourtesy with me. “What can I get you, Violet?”

“I’m fine,” I replied. “Thank you.”

“Mom, I was going to take Violet to my room,” Frank stated, beginning to walk up the stairs with me still attached to his hip.

“We'll come back down. It was nice seeing you, Linda!” I waved. “I love you!”

Frank and I hurriedly strutted to his room that still had a lousy ‘keep out!’ sign on his door. He opened the door and I ran to his bed, bouncing on it.

“My mom sure does love you, Violet.” Frank grinned, closing the door behind him.

“I sure do love your bed! It’s so bouncy,” I said. I parked my ass firmly on the edge of his bed. I observed his old room. “What’s that?” I questioned, pointing at a photograph on Frank’s bulletin board. I got up, scrutinizing the picture.

“That’s when we were seventeen,” Frank exclaimed. “We were Ghostbusters. I don’t think it was even Halloween.” Frank plopped himself on the ground with his back against the bed.

“Who is the sexy mama?” I grabbed another picture and sat next to Frank. I handed him the photograph of a girl sitting on his lap, kissing his cheek.

“Oh, ex girlfriend or girlfriend,” he said, shrugging.

“Which one is it?”

“We still see each other, but it’s not like we are dating officially.” Frank threw the photo on the carpet.

“So, possibly friends with benefits? Nice, man. She’s hot. I bet she gets this all the time, but she looks exactly like Anna Farris.”

“Huh, sure,” Frank guessed. “How do you like digging needles into people’s skin?”

“Wow, you just gave me whip lash. Yeah, okay. It’s exciting. I’m positive if I wasn’t a tattoo artist, I would be a plastic surgeon or something that deals with needles poking into people. It is so drastic though. I love it.” I beamed. “My turn,” I hummed. “When I left, did I make you depress?”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, we were best friends and I got up left. I didn’t say goodbye to you at all. Not even a formal goodbye. Yeah, I regret it, but I regret making you this way.”

“What way?”

“You think I can’t tell that my best friend is fucking depressed? You can’t just hide by that exquisite smile of yours. I have X-ray vision to see the real you. Depressed, lonely, incognito…”

“I am in disguise?”

“The interior being of you is perfectly blissful, but the exterior is woeful.”

“Stop acting like you’re more intelligent that everyone else. It’s sad that you have to pretend to know everything about me.” Frank closed his eyes and rested his head on the bed.

“You’re certainly mad, although your face ingeniously always is comported into a questioning expression like you’re shocked I came back. You seem to maintain this demeanor yet you’re sympathetic. What can really be done to help you get out of this ambush, to reverse yourself from this madness?”

“Are you calling me mental? Violet, I am not mental. I am not insane or mad or whatever the fuck you say.”

“I never said you were mad.”

“You’re mad.”

“No, I am not.”

“Yes, you are.” He opened his eyes to glare at me. “You’re mad. You’re mad at me, yourself, and everyone else. You’re mad, you’re mad, and you’re… mad.”

“Stop it, Frank. Stop it.” I covered my ears.

“You are just denying the actuality that you’re depressed because you killed someone!”

“I can’t hear you!” I shrieked like bloody murder. I rocked back and forth, hitting my backside against his bead. “Shut up, Frank. Shut the fuck up.”

“Violet,” he yelled, pulling me to his stomach and holding me while I swung. “Shush, Violet, I’m sorry.”

“I can’t hear you.” I held onto tighter to my ears. “No more, Frank. No more.”

“Look at me, V.”

I gawked at his face as he did the same. I let my hands relax around Frank.

“I didn’t realize what this did to you,” he hushed. “I am so sorry.” He gripped onto me.

“I’m not mad,” I lowered my voice, placing my head in his lap.

“I know you’re – we’re – not.”

Notes

Thanks again for reading. I love my all my readers dearly!

By the way, September 26 I see Frank Iero! Ahhh I'm gonna cry.
(:


-christy-