Franks POV

So today was Monday. I have to wake up early so I can get my mum to give me a lift to school on her way to work. I didn’t mind the lessons at school, it was the people that I had the problems with. There is this one guy called Dan who has this huge problem with me. I problem that where I am to blame for everything. Hopefully, I wont run into him today. After about 10 minutes of thinking whilst looking up to the ceiling, I had to get up and get ready for school. For breakfast I had toast. Plain boring toast. When I have finished, I have a shower and get changed. I did my hair and looked at myself in the mirror, I looked better than most days. My hair was short and bleached on the side but long black on the top. The fringe curled around my right eye; A hazel eye that was surrounded by a stream of eye-liner.
“Frank! I am leaving in five minutes, if you’re not ready I am leaving without you.” My mum called from the bottom of the stairs. I lived with my mum; my dad is on his honeymoon with his new wife. I refused to live with him as one I connect with my mum a lot more, and two, My dad doesn’t know I am gay and I know his views on them. He thinks anyone that isn’t straight is confused, doesn’t know the 'natural way' (even though homosexual relationships happens in every species). To be honest, he can be quite sexist. A few years ago we went on holiday to England. When we got back to the hotel one night, my dad kept saying how women 'shouldn’t be soldiers because they waddle like ducks'. He says more but I couldn’t care right now, I had school and it will be the same as always. My life at school is pretty much the same as everyone else’s just without friends and a guy who blames me for all his problems. That guy is called Dan. Don’t get me wrong, he is not horrible to anyone. Anyone but me.

I ran down the stairs to the door where my mum was shaking her keys next to the door.
“There you are now...you have a choice. You can either walk home which I would prefer you didn’t! Or I can ask Donna if her son would mind dropping you off. I won't be home till late so you could go out with your friends.” Well I have no friends so I cant do that. I cant walk because last time I walked home by myself Dan and his 'friends' wouldn’t leave me alone, following me all the way, throwing insults. When I say “and his friends” I mean scared followers. His scared followers would just stand there, trying to come up with really some insults, all of which were just what you would think a six year old made up. One of them, I knew as 'the boy with glasses' he actually looks guilty when hanging with Dan. The guy would just stand there, looking around, scraping his shoes again the grey floor. If Dan caught him looking away or feeling bad, I know Dan would just start being horrible to him. As the years have gone, I have noticed the boy-with-glasses is the nicest of all of them. Back to my mum, I told her that she could ask Donna's sons. Where was she going anyway?
“Can you ask Donna's sons please. You don’t want me to walk and I have no friends mum, remember? Where are you going anyway?” I asked her as we entered the red peugeot.
“Oh, after work I am going to see Donna. Yeah, we haven’t had time to just us girls for a while, its going to be fun.” she smiled whilst taking sip of her coffee out of her flask. Her and Donna had been friends for years. Ever since I was born my mum has been too busy looking after me, herself and trying to get money to do that. I love my mum for that. Whenever she sees Donna they normally have a relaxing time so that will be good. Unfortunately, it means I have to cook dinner for myself, I probably wont eat; it will be easier. The only things I can cook are pasta, noodles, pizza and popcorn, Oh and cupcakes. We used to make them all the time when I was younger, the recipe was quite simple. Nice food and simple to make; Perfect for me! So its settled, I shall have cupcakes for dinner, lovely.

I arrived at school, the coldness hitting me as I walked out the car. My mum drove off and I went to my tutor room. There was around 25 people in this tutor. We all sat on tables and chatted for 15 minutes. Well they did, I just sat there writing songs. It was good because it gave me time to think, get inspiration, let my imagination fly until I found the right words to describe it. Recently I have been writing this song about vampires. However it could also be a metaphor for how the big city feels like its going to kill you, by sucking away everything about you that makes you, you. I am only on the first verse; the chorus is done. Since my last band kicked me out because one found out I kissed a guy, I have to do everything myself. In case you haven’t noticed, music is my life. I love it. It hits you right in the heart. When songs do that, it sends this feeling through me telling me how alive I am, how I should do what I want, how I should enjoy life. I need to join another band, I miss being in bands. Preferably ones that doesn’t include homophobic ass holes. In this generation I would have thought people would at least except it and move on; why is that not the case? Equality is something I stand for, I strongly stand for. No matter what it's for, I think equality is what everyone needs. Of course not everyone agrees but can you really blame them? If you were getting more or treated better than someone else, you wouldnt want to share, we all want more.

I was halfway through the first verse when my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was my mum giving me Donna's sons number so I know what car at what time. This meant I have to text a complete stranger...and then meet them. God, why didn’t I just agree to walk home? I’m sure I would be fine this time. Say Donna's son is horrible? Say its Dan? Say its a murderer? I think I should just text the person instead of worrying even more.

Me: Hi, I’m frank, Linda's son. Where am I meeting you?

I put my phone back in my pocket and continued writing. To see how it would sound, I need a singer with the perfect voice. That is not me. Although singing is something I am good at, I havent got the right voice for this type of song. I started getting a bit stuck on the next verse, so I drew a little vampire in the corner. It looked more like a mouse but oh well, it's now a vampire-mouse. I tried again with writing but decided with only a few minutes left till first lesson, I might as well just wait till English (third period) when it won't sound weird asking my teacher to borrow a thesaurus. My tutor dismissed us so I made my way to maths. It was upstairs and 3 corridors away which isn’t far but everyone just rushes to class that everyone crashes into each other. Once this guys shirt got ripped because everyone was being pushed and pulled, luckily for him it was just a small rip. That is a reason why no one wears expensive clothing...well most people. The maths corridor had display work from the past years, colourful posters and dark blue doors that contrasted with the light blue walls. Maths is a good lesson for me, I sit a the back and has a fun teacher who lets you listen to music, eat anything whilst doing work. As long as you got most the work done, you were alright. Of course there were those students who would never stop talking, but that's normal.

My next lesson was art. As you may have guessed -from my drawing of the 'vampire-mouse'- I can't draw to save my life. Luckily, I have imagination and can put that onto a piece of paper (as a drawing and in words). The chair squeaked as I sat on it, making my heart jump, scared I was going to break it. Sir soon came in and wrote what we had to do on the board which was to finish off the piece we were doing last lesson. Mr Stump actually thinks I am good at art, I don't know whether to believe him or not, I am terrible at everything! As he exited the room, the rooms volume raised until it hit the ceiling. Everyone went mute as he walked back in. He was with another student, I had seen him around, 'afro kid' was what everyone knew him as. The guy sat next to me and started drumming his fingers on the table.

“Ray, I hope you are doing your work” Mr Stump said, looking up whilst helping out one of the students. The frizzy haired boy looked up as the voice belonging to Mr Stump interrupted his drum beat and started drawing. I looked at Mr Stump who was watching 'Ray', starting his work. The teacher pushed his thick black glasses up with his right hand as his other sat leaning on his desk. A few whispers were sent around the room gradually turning into many conversations. Ray -the kid next to me- started talking to me. We had a great conversation, he plays many instruments, he has a band with his friends. After finding out I play guitar and write songs, he asked me to sit with him and his friends/band mates at break. I was shocked, am I making friends?

Notes

Hi people, how are you?