“FRANK!” I scream.

Frank was lying there unconscious, surrounded by hundreds of white pills. He had a fresh drip of blood slowly running from his mouth across his cheek, eventually dripping onto the white bath. In the sink, surrounded by a lake of blood, there were two small containers, one blue and one red. The floor, still not fully cleaned from Frank’s last ‘incident,’ there were more pills and splatters of blood.

“Holy shit Frank,” I whisper to myself. I check my dorm mate’s pulse. Good, he’s still alive.

I slowly lift him up, one arm snaking around his back and gripping his upper arm, one under the inside of his knee. He’s still unconscious as I lower his onto his bed and wrap him up in his duvet. I stroke my knuckles down the length of his beautiful face.

Fuck, not again.

I can’t stop this time though. The thoughts keep pouring into my head. His face… his voice… his body…

“This needs to stop,” I murmur to myself, “this is fucked up.”

“What’s fucked up?” Frank’s croaky voice interrupts my thoughts. I sit stunned for a few moments, just staring into his eyes.

I decide not to answer his question.

“What happened Frank?” I ask.

“I thought it was about time I left.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You know what I mean.”

I do know what he means.

I sigh and slump back against his bed, going over all of the shit that’s happened since I got here.

“What were those pills for?” I ask, breaking the silence.

“Well, the blue ones help me fly and the red ones help me fall.” He simply says.

There are so many questions I will probably never get answers to buzzing around in my head; so I decide to ask the one I’ve been meaning to ask since the very first moment I saw him:

“Why?”

Notes

Ugh, I guess I had to post this, or else I'd have gotten a shit storm.

It's very short, I know, sorry.

I don't even know where this fic is going anymore.

~Sovay♥