The Highways I Call Home

Frank stared at the blade in his hand. Tomorrow was his flight to Florida, so he couldn't bring it with him. A feeling of loss spread through him. He sliced it through his skin a couple more times before slamming it as hard as he could into the drywall. Paint flaked a little around the edges, but it was in there deep. Frank wanted to make some kind of mark- a statement of rebellion- before he left this place.

He settled back in bed, feeling satisfied with himself. All night he either looked out his window or at the blade in the wall, trying to make his final moments in New Jersey last.

He had slept in that same bed for 17 years. In this room. Now it was empty. Posters and photographs had been taken from the wall. Every item he owned except clothes for tomorrow had been put in boxes and were currently on their way to Florida. The room was so different, as if every trace of him was gone from it. Every trace but the blade he thought, looking over at it.

He didn't ever want to move. And when morning sunlihht peeked in through his window after his sleepless night, he refused to get up.

"Ten minutes!" His dad yelled from downstairs.

Frank just layed there. Eventually he slipped on his clothes and grabbed his remaining belongings. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that they were leaving. He stepped from the porch steps, looking back at his home. He was never going back.

A short flight and long waits at the airport later, Frank was looking at his new home. Warm rain sprinkled down on it, glistening in the sunlight. This was his new hell.

All day he unpacked everything he owned and tried to personalize his new room. It was pink. Pink. He tried to cover up as much of it as possible with posters, but little gaps showed anyway.

He set his guitar, Pansy, on her stand by his bed. He new they would spend a lot of time together. Already he knew that kids wouldn't accept him. Nobody liked his black hoodie and skinny jeans attire up in Jersey, so in a humid place like Florida, that would seem just crazy. Without friends, all he had was his guitar. Music was his escape from it all.


Eventually Frank got tired and slipped into his new queen-sized bed. He loved it, except that it took up most of the tiny room he had. It was actually quite comfortable, so he instantly fell into a deep sleep, forgetting about all his problems for a couple hours.

When he woke up, Frank put on his clothes and a little eyeliner and slipped out of the house, desperately avoiding the "family time" his dad was hoping for.

He walked out on to the sidewalk, taking in the rows of houses on either side. He walked down the road and over a couple blocks. The houses stopped, and before him was a vast ocean. Perfect.

Frank walked along the beach, taking note of all the half-naked teenagers scattered about. He definitely wasnt going to fit in.

As he was walking, he looked at the clear blue water. Clear but deadly. He thought of jumping into the water and swimming away from this hell-hole. He knew he couldn't swim for shit, he just wanted to get sucked into the water and never come out. Maybe a shark would find him. Eat him up. The more blood the better! He stepped closer and closer to the water, eyeing it longingly.

"Shit!" he screached as water soaked into his sneakers, then scurried away, hopping from one for to the other as cold water reached his toes. "Shitshitshit!"

As Frank finally composed himself, he became aware of two teenage boys laughing at him. Idiots, he thought, scuffing his shoes in the sand and kicking shells in frustration as he made his way back up the beach.

"Hey wait up! " one of them called, racing towards him. Frank turned to look at him and slowly backed away. He couldn't count how many times guys like that had come and randomly beat him up. He shuddered at the thought.

"Hey!" The dude said between breaths, panting and looking over at his friend. He was tall and muscular, wearing only swim trunks. A frizzy half-afro framed his face. His friend was the same, every he had short blond hair. "So this is Bob," he said, pointing at the other boy. "And I'm Ray!"

"Hi."Frank said, curious as to why this dude was being nice to him.

"So what's your name? Are you new here? "

"Ya, I'm Frank, i moved yesterday from new Jersey. "

"Cool! So Frank, do you have a phone? " he asked. I pulled it out of my pocket and he grabbed it from my hand, punching in his phone number.

"Let's have coffee tomorrow and i can show you around! You like coffee right? "

"Of course! "

"Okay then, see ya Frank! We gotta go catch some waves," Ray said while gesturing towards the surf boards down the beach. Him and Bob ran back to their boards and are out on the water within minutes.

Frank just stared at them, taken aback by their random friendliness. Nobody had ever been that nice to him before.

He slowly made his way back to his house after several wrong turns. Along the way he was lost in thought. Maybe Florida won't be that bad after all! He came upon his new house and entered, smelling homemade vegetarian lasagna. Taylor instantly brought him a plate full with a smile and walked back to the kitchen. This wasn't bad at all.

Notes

I had to write this twice. The first draft was deleted right as i was about to post it. Ugh. More problems. So if it's not up to its full potential.. sorry..
but i hope its ok!

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~Geetah