Can't Find My Way Home
An Almost Refused Home
“Dudes look. He looks gay.” the leader starts. Wow very professional. ‘He looks gay’. Sure buddy whatever floats your boat. But his next two words stop my thoughts right in their tracks.
“Get him.”
*Frank's POV*
All of a sudden it's huge chaos. I'm trying to run, but my ankle is grabbed and I'm getting pulled backward, sliding on my knees the whole way. Next thing I know I'm being pushed up against a wall and held down there, and when I look around, I see that leader guy walking towards me.
"We own this place punk." He starts, spitting right in my face on the word 'punk'."Now, we could let you go and hope you don't come back here... or we could teach you a lesson the nice way." He started to pace back and forth in mock thought. "Oh! I know. We could teach you a lesson the fun way instead." And with that he punched me in the stomach and walked off, leaving me to his guys.
Next thing I know I’m on the ground and I get a kick to the head making my head slam against the brick wall behind me, knocking me out.
I wake up in a strange place. I’m not in my shed. This place is nicer than my shed. I see that I’m next to a wall, but I’m not outside, so I got moved from behind the music shop.
And damn my head hurts.
I look around to the extent of my eyes without moving my head and see that I’m in someone’s house, I just don’t know who’s. I don’t think it would be the people who beat me up’s, but then again, it could be if one of them suddenly had a soft spot. I unconsciously roll my head over to the side letting out a sigh of frustration towards the fact I can’t figure out where I am, and the fact that the pain won’t go away.
As if answering to my sigh, a man with dark hair walks into the room with a mug of something steaming. I’m guessing it’s coffee.
“Hey man. How you doing. I saw you got pretty badly beat up over behind Corner Music over there. I mean I would have stepped in, but no one messes with the Black Veil Brides.”
“Who’s Black Veil Brides?” I question.
“The gang for this street, they practically own everything cause no one fucks with them. Well, except for you, but now you see why. Why were you over there anyway?”
“I just uh… I wanted to listen to some music.”
“Dude what happened to an ipod?”
“Oh… uh, I had one, but it ran out of battery a couple years ago.” I said sadly, deciding to just go straight out and tell this guy my story so that maybe he can help me. The other option is kicking me out, which is fine because I go back to my normal life and I’ll never see this man again.
“Uh… Charger.”
“No outlet.”
“WHAT?!?!”
“Okay, let me explain. No wait, too much to explain, let me sum up. I was kicked out of my family’s house a couple of years ago for being gay, so now I live in an abandoned shed about 30-60 minutes away from here walking. I periodically come down here to listen for music, or to get food scraps when my local coffee shop doesn’t have the normal left overs. I just wanted to listen to music, but I rounded the corner to the back of the coffee shop to find Black… whatevers out there and they ended up beating me up until I blacked out. And now I’m here.”
There was a long pause before the man started to speak again.
“Wow…” He said with a little chuckle. “When were you kicked out?”
“When I was fourteen.”
“How old are you now?”
“Twenty six.”
“How do you survive?”
“Small leftovers from a nearby coffee shop, and everyone in a while I gather up enough dropped change to get myself an actual meal at like a restaurant.”
“Why do you have new clothes?”
“My birthday is coming up, so I saved up for a fresh pair of clothes and shoes and everything. Took me about 2 years to get enough money.”
And the question and answer just went on for a couple more minutes until the man leaned back against the door frame heaving a long sigh, as if his life was difficult.
“Okay.” He started after a long silence. “My name, is Bert. Bert McCracken. This is my house, and now it’s going to be yours too. You seem like a cool enough guy, and I think that twelve years on your own is enough for anyone. Man I’d barely last twelve days, so I’m just gonna help you out here.”
I thought about that for a moment, with my jaw practically on the floor. One: I didn’t even realize that it had been twelve years. I was just so used to eat, save money, walk around, and sleep, that it kinda slipped my mind how normal people don’t live like this. Two: I don’t know how well I can trust this guy. I just met him, but e has been really nice so far. I mean he did pick up a knocked out man from behind an old music store and bring him into his house for no apparent reason. I think I’ll decide whether or not I can trust him later. Three: I don’t even remember how to live a normal life anymore. Will I have to get a job? What happens after that? Will anyone like me or accept me? Ugh this is too difficult.
I have a lot more reasons to be astonished at this, but I decide to just forget about all of them and tell him that I can’t. So I just go right out and say it only to be cut off.
“Man, I don’t think that I can live here with you. I mean it’s your house and I don’t want to be ann-”
“Dude. I said here’s the plan. That was a plan not a proposal for a plan. If you want we can drive back to that shed of yours to get any belongings, but for now, the guest room is yours. By the way. I never got your name.”
“Frank. Frank Iero.”
“Well Frank. Did you have anything to go get from your shed, or should I show you around?
Bert’s house ends up being absolutely amazing, and it looks like something a king would live in to me. We get to what Bert called my room, and I slowly wander inside and take a look around. It’s not huge, but that’s perfect, since before I found the shed, and even before I’d made my four day walking trip to get away from my parents, I was living between two garbage cans, which was even smaller. It seems as if the color theme for this room was a lime kind of green and a dark blue, considering that everything has those two colors and white on them.
There’s a small bed tucked away in the corner, covered with a comforter and two pillows. Next to it theres a small dark wooden desk with a clock and a lamp on it. Behind the desk is a window covered with blinds. On the other side of the window is a tall dresser, that probably has nothing in it, but oh well. On the side of the room opposite the window, there’s a big bookcase filled half with books, half with rock cd’s and vinyls. In the corner of the room there’s a guitar on a stand that looks like it hasn’t been used for years, and begging for attention.
Walking over to the guitar, I whisper a small ‘this is all too much’ to which Bert replies ‘Dude, it’s just a room’.
“Bert. This is not just a room.” I say looking up from the guitar to look at him. “This is a life. I haven’t been in a house for 12 years, let alone being able to somewhat call a whole part of that house mine.”
“What do you mean ‘somewhat’. This is your room. And now it is our house. You live here in this house.”
“And I can’t thank you enough for that.”
“And you don’t need to.”
I turn back to the guitar, only looking at it for a couple of seconds before walking towards the bed, almost fascinated about how plush it looks.
“Can I…” I ask looking towards Bert, resting my hand on the mattress, attempting to ask if I could sit there, but failing completely.
“Dude. It’s all yours now.”
A huge smile slowly starts to split my face in half as I climb up onto the bed, just sitting while I kick my shoes off, not wanting to damage it or anything. After me shoes are off, I fall backwards onto the bed allowing myself to just be completely engulfed by the feathery comforter and pillows, and feeling how much better this is than cement and my little pile of dirt. That last part accidentally slips out of my mouth, and I hear Bert chuckle and turn around to leave, shutting the door behind him.
Lifting up the comforter, I already feel sleep starting to take over with how relaxed and comfortable I am. I finally get under the comforter and allow sleep to take over with the last thing in my sight being the clock on the desk next to me saying 6:47.
“Frankie! No don’t bring him! Are you an idiot?!”
I look around to see no one, then all of a sudden I’m holding the hand of a fourteen year old boy, who looks very familiar. Before I’m able to study him more though, he disappears. All of a sudden I’m now in a school hallway. School? I haven’t been to school in forever. I turn around to see yet another familiar face running towards me with a knife, so I sprint down the hallway and eventually take shelter in a janitor’s closet. the door slowly starts to open, but this time I’t not knife guy, it’s the first boy again, asking if I’m okay. I just straighten up and back up towards the wall, but he follows me. until he’s pressed flat against me. I reach out to push him away only to have him turn to mist against my touch. Soon the room disappears and I’ behind a brick building. I hear a band that I have learned to call The Misfits playing and realize that this is the corner music store. Turning to my right, I see a sight I never wanted to see. I’m now watching myself get beat up by the Black Veil Brides again. Until I become myself again, and suddenly I’m getting beat up by knife boy in a locker room. He leaves and the scene changes to a bedroom, and a tall woman, probably in her 30s or 40s walks in and slaps me, talking about some boy and how pissed my father’s going to be. Next thing I know, I’m in a bigger room with a bunch of couches and there’s a man there pointing to the boy from the first scene again before talking about relationships and then coming back towards me to slap me. Now, I’ in a hospital bed, with bandages all over me, and I decide that I’ve had enough, so I grab some clothes that were on the side of the bed and get changes running out of the hospital and ending up a couple blocks away squeezed between two garbage cans.
I jerk awake covered in sweat and look around, forgetting where I was for a second when everything rushed back to me. I decide to sort out my dreams later and so I open up the window to hop out and take a quick calming walk. I would go out through the front door, but one I forgot where it is, and two, I don’t want to risk running into Bert.
Thinking about it, I never brought any belongings into there, so I could just make a run for it now considering the fact that he doesn’t know where I live, and the shed is unsearchable at the police station since it was taken off the record years ago, stated as being torn down. I decide quickly against it and turn around to head back to Bert’s because it’s cold and I haven’t bought a jacket because I’d ran out of money and wanted enough for that breakfast.
Unluckily, I get back to find that the window I used to get out was closed, so I either forgot and closed it, or Bert has found out. I hope it was the first option, but part of me knows it’s the second option.
Opening the front door, which surprisingly is unlocked, I am faced with an angry, yet extremely tired, Bert.
“I open my house to you, and you decide to slip out at the middle of the night leaving me to believe that you’d run! Come on! Really!”
“I’m sorry. I had the weirdest dream, and so I was just taking a short walk to relax my mind in hopes of getting back to sleep. Wait is it really midnight?”
“Yeah. 12:01.” He answered, looking at a watch.
“I’m really sorry. I won’t do it again.”
“Okay good, because dude, a life on the street is dangerous, and I don’t want you falling a victim to that.”
“Fine.” I huff turning around to head back towards my room, but then stopping and turning to face Bert again. “Um… I don’t remember how to get to my room from here.”
Bert let out a little chuckle. “Yeah sure.”
When I got back to my room, it was 12:03 and I said goodnight to Bert and he left after me reassuring him a couple times I wouldn’t leave again.
I really did try to sleep, but I just couldn’t so I lay there in silence trying to figure out what that dream was. After a long inner debate, I came up with this story.
The dream was my past life. I’d been trying to push those memories out of my mind for a while, but it looks like today brought them all back. Knife boy was my bully at school, and the boy was my boyfriend that I came out to my parents with. Oh yeah and the man and woman in that thing were my parents. I still haven’t quite figure out who the voice at the beginning was, but I think that it’s either a friend I may have had before I left, or a sibling.
The clock now reads 3:28, so I rolled over onto my stomach and it turns out it didn’t really take me that long to fall to sleep after my dream was figured out.
I wake up to my stomach growling and my head clear. I get up and stand in the middle of my room for a second letting it sink in that this was still considered mine. I wandered around the house for a second until I found Bert in the kitchen making coffee. He asked me if I wanted some and I said yes, considering coffee was a rarity for me, because getting enough money from behind the coffee shop, to buy a coffee almost never happened. I ended up sitting at the table with Bert and my coffee and my stomach growled almost instantly.
“Oh yeah!” Bert started from the other side of the table. “I went out to pick up a breakfast, and didn’t know what you’ like, so I just picked up some donuts remembering you’d said something about them yesterday.
“Wait, donuts.”
“Yeah…”
“As in plural.”
“Yeah…”
“Does that mean I can have two?”
“That’s kinda the point of buying more than one.”
“You bought them?!”
“Yeah, otherwise that’s stealing from a store, and I’d go to jail.”
“Do you always have enough money for breakfast.”
“Yeah of course. Why all these questions?”
“I’ve just always had half a donut for my only meal of the day most times, and that’s if I’m lucky.”
“Well, now you can have multiple donuts and there are different types to choose from.”
“Choices!”
“Yeah come on.”
And with that Bert brought me to the kitchen to see five perfect, whole, paid for donuts in a nice box waiting to be eaten. I slowly walked over and picked up one, taking a big bite out of it, just really slowly.
Boy was that fantastic!
I could eat four. and that actually meant four this time not four halves.
I picked up another donut and headed back over to the table where me coffee had cooled down to a drinkable temperature and I smiled the widest I had in lunch while savoring every bite of my breakfast, afraid I would wake up from this dream at any moment.
Bert started to laugh, so I looked up at him with a questioning look.
“It’s just, I’ve never seen someone so happy to have donuts and coffee.” He managed to get out between laughs.
“This would have been an unthinkable meal for me just two days ago.” I try to explain, but shoving another bit in my mouth as soon as I’m done talking, deciding that there’s no time to waste with talking when I could be eating.
“Oh. I also have some friends coming over today, and I think you’ll like them Frank. But before then, we’re going to go out and get you more than one pair of clothes and other stuff. You also need a jacket, considering last night you had no jacket cause you came in shivering.”
“Well can this day get any better?” I ask myself really, just out loud. But not of course, without a huge mouthful of donut.
“Get him.”
*Frank's POV*
All of a sudden it's huge chaos. I'm trying to run, but my ankle is grabbed and I'm getting pulled backward, sliding on my knees the whole way. Next thing I know I'm being pushed up against a wall and held down there, and when I look around, I see that leader guy walking towards me.
"We own this place punk." He starts, spitting right in my face on the word 'punk'."Now, we could let you go and hope you don't come back here... or we could teach you a lesson the nice way." He started to pace back and forth in mock thought. "Oh! I know. We could teach you a lesson the fun way instead." And with that he punched me in the stomach and walked off, leaving me to his guys.
Next thing I know I’m on the ground and I get a kick to the head making my head slam against the brick wall behind me, knocking me out.
I wake up in a strange place. I’m not in my shed. This place is nicer than my shed. I see that I’m next to a wall, but I’m not outside, so I got moved from behind the music shop.
And damn my head hurts.
I look around to the extent of my eyes without moving my head and see that I’m in someone’s house, I just don’t know who’s. I don’t think it would be the people who beat me up’s, but then again, it could be if one of them suddenly had a soft spot. I unconsciously roll my head over to the side letting out a sigh of frustration towards the fact I can’t figure out where I am, and the fact that the pain won’t go away.
As if answering to my sigh, a man with dark hair walks into the room with a mug of something steaming. I’m guessing it’s coffee.
“Hey man. How you doing. I saw you got pretty badly beat up over behind Corner Music over there. I mean I would have stepped in, but no one messes with the Black Veil Brides.”
“Who’s Black Veil Brides?” I question.
“The gang for this street, they practically own everything cause no one fucks with them. Well, except for you, but now you see why. Why were you over there anyway?”
“I just uh… I wanted to listen to some music.”
“Dude what happened to an ipod?”
“Oh… uh, I had one, but it ran out of battery a couple years ago.” I said sadly, deciding to just go straight out and tell this guy my story so that maybe he can help me. The other option is kicking me out, which is fine because I go back to my normal life and I’ll never see this man again.
“Uh… Charger.”
“No outlet.”
“WHAT?!?!”
“Okay, let me explain. No wait, too much to explain, let me sum up. I was kicked out of my family’s house a couple of years ago for being gay, so now I live in an abandoned shed about 30-60 minutes away from here walking. I periodically come down here to listen for music, or to get food scraps when my local coffee shop doesn’t have the normal left overs. I just wanted to listen to music, but I rounded the corner to the back of the coffee shop to find Black… whatevers out there and they ended up beating me up until I blacked out. And now I’m here.”
There was a long pause before the man started to speak again.
“Wow…” He said with a little chuckle. “When were you kicked out?”
“When I was fourteen.”
“How old are you now?”
“Twenty six.”
“How do you survive?”
“Small leftovers from a nearby coffee shop, and everyone in a while I gather up enough dropped change to get myself an actual meal at like a restaurant.”
“Why do you have new clothes?”
“My birthday is coming up, so I saved up for a fresh pair of clothes and shoes and everything. Took me about 2 years to get enough money.”
And the question and answer just went on for a couple more minutes until the man leaned back against the door frame heaving a long sigh, as if his life was difficult.
“Okay.” He started after a long silence. “My name, is Bert. Bert McCracken. This is my house, and now it’s going to be yours too. You seem like a cool enough guy, and I think that twelve years on your own is enough for anyone. Man I’d barely last twelve days, so I’m just gonna help you out here.”
I thought about that for a moment, with my jaw practically on the floor. One: I didn’t even realize that it had been twelve years. I was just so used to eat, save money, walk around, and sleep, that it kinda slipped my mind how normal people don’t live like this. Two: I don’t know how well I can trust this guy. I just met him, but e has been really nice so far. I mean he did pick up a knocked out man from behind an old music store and bring him into his house for no apparent reason. I think I’ll decide whether or not I can trust him later. Three: I don’t even remember how to live a normal life anymore. Will I have to get a job? What happens after that? Will anyone like me or accept me? Ugh this is too difficult.
I have a lot more reasons to be astonished at this, but I decide to just forget about all of them and tell him that I can’t. So I just go right out and say it only to be cut off.
“Man, I don’t think that I can live here with you. I mean it’s your house and I don’t want to be ann-”
“Dude. I said here’s the plan. That was a plan not a proposal for a plan. If you want we can drive back to that shed of yours to get any belongings, but for now, the guest room is yours. By the way. I never got your name.”
“Frank. Frank Iero.”
“Well Frank. Did you have anything to go get from your shed, or should I show you around?
Bert’s house ends up being absolutely amazing, and it looks like something a king would live in to me. We get to what Bert called my room, and I slowly wander inside and take a look around. It’s not huge, but that’s perfect, since before I found the shed, and even before I’d made my four day walking trip to get away from my parents, I was living between two garbage cans, which was even smaller. It seems as if the color theme for this room was a lime kind of green and a dark blue, considering that everything has those two colors and white on them.
There’s a small bed tucked away in the corner, covered with a comforter and two pillows. Next to it theres a small dark wooden desk with a clock and a lamp on it. Behind the desk is a window covered with blinds. On the other side of the window is a tall dresser, that probably has nothing in it, but oh well. On the side of the room opposite the window, there’s a big bookcase filled half with books, half with rock cd’s and vinyls. In the corner of the room there’s a guitar on a stand that looks like it hasn’t been used for years, and begging for attention.
Walking over to the guitar, I whisper a small ‘this is all too much’ to which Bert replies ‘Dude, it’s just a room’.
“Bert. This is not just a room.” I say looking up from the guitar to look at him. “This is a life. I haven’t been in a house for 12 years, let alone being able to somewhat call a whole part of that house mine.”
“What do you mean ‘somewhat’. This is your room. And now it is our house. You live here in this house.”
“And I can’t thank you enough for that.”
“And you don’t need to.”
I turn back to the guitar, only looking at it for a couple of seconds before walking towards the bed, almost fascinated about how plush it looks.
“Can I…” I ask looking towards Bert, resting my hand on the mattress, attempting to ask if I could sit there, but failing completely.
“Dude. It’s all yours now.”
A huge smile slowly starts to split my face in half as I climb up onto the bed, just sitting while I kick my shoes off, not wanting to damage it or anything. After me shoes are off, I fall backwards onto the bed allowing myself to just be completely engulfed by the feathery comforter and pillows, and feeling how much better this is than cement and my little pile of dirt. That last part accidentally slips out of my mouth, and I hear Bert chuckle and turn around to leave, shutting the door behind him.
Lifting up the comforter, I already feel sleep starting to take over with how relaxed and comfortable I am. I finally get under the comforter and allow sleep to take over with the last thing in my sight being the clock on the desk next to me saying 6:47.
“Frankie! No don’t bring him! Are you an idiot?!”
I look around to see no one, then all of a sudden I’m holding the hand of a fourteen year old boy, who looks very familiar. Before I’m able to study him more though, he disappears. All of a sudden I’m now in a school hallway. School? I haven’t been to school in forever. I turn around to see yet another familiar face running towards me with a knife, so I sprint down the hallway and eventually take shelter in a janitor’s closet. the door slowly starts to open, but this time I’t not knife guy, it’s the first boy again, asking if I’m okay. I just straighten up and back up towards the wall, but he follows me. until he’s pressed flat against me. I reach out to push him away only to have him turn to mist against my touch. Soon the room disappears and I’ behind a brick building. I hear a band that I have learned to call The Misfits playing and realize that this is the corner music store. Turning to my right, I see a sight I never wanted to see. I’m now watching myself get beat up by the Black Veil Brides again. Until I become myself again, and suddenly I’m getting beat up by knife boy in a locker room. He leaves and the scene changes to a bedroom, and a tall woman, probably in her 30s or 40s walks in and slaps me, talking about some boy and how pissed my father’s going to be. Next thing I know, I’m in a bigger room with a bunch of couches and there’s a man there pointing to the boy from the first scene again before talking about relationships and then coming back towards me to slap me. Now, I’ in a hospital bed, with bandages all over me, and I decide that I’ve had enough, so I grab some clothes that were on the side of the bed and get changes running out of the hospital and ending up a couple blocks away squeezed between two garbage cans.
I jerk awake covered in sweat and look around, forgetting where I was for a second when everything rushed back to me. I decide to sort out my dreams later and so I open up the window to hop out and take a quick calming walk. I would go out through the front door, but one I forgot where it is, and two, I don’t want to risk running into Bert.
Thinking about it, I never brought any belongings into there, so I could just make a run for it now considering the fact that he doesn’t know where I live, and the shed is unsearchable at the police station since it was taken off the record years ago, stated as being torn down. I decide quickly against it and turn around to head back to Bert’s because it’s cold and I haven’t bought a jacket because I’d ran out of money and wanted enough for that breakfast.
Unluckily, I get back to find that the window I used to get out was closed, so I either forgot and closed it, or Bert has found out. I hope it was the first option, but part of me knows it’s the second option.
Opening the front door, which surprisingly is unlocked, I am faced with an angry, yet extremely tired, Bert.
“I open my house to you, and you decide to slip out at the middle of the night leaving me to believe that you’d run! Come on! Really!”
“I’m sorry. I had the weirdest dream, and so I was just taking a short walk to relax my mind in hopes of getting back to sleep. Wait is it really midnight?”
“Yeah. 12:01.” He answered, looking at a watch.
“I’m really sorry. I won’t do it again.”
“Okay good, because dude, a life on the street is dangerous, and I don’t want you falling a victim to that.”
“Fine.” I huff turning around to head back towards my room, but then stopping and turning to face Bert again. “Um… I don’t remember how to get to my room from here.”
Bert let out a little chuckle. “Yeah sure.”
When I got back to my room, it was 12:03 and I said goodnight to Bert and he left after me reassuring him a couple times I wouldn’t leave again.
I really did try to sleep, but I just couldn’t so I lay there in silence trying to figure out what that dream was. After a long inner debate, I came up with this story.
The dream was my past life. I’d been trying to push those memories out of my mind for a while, but it looks like today brought them all back. Knife boy was my bully at school, and the boy was my boyfriend that I came out to my parents with. Oh yeah and the man and woman in that thing were my parents. I still haven’t quite figure out who the voice at the beginning was, but I think that it’s either a friend I may have had before I left, or a sibling.
The clock now reads 3:28, so I rolled over onto my stomach and it turns out it didn’t really take me that long to fall to sleep after my dream was figured out.
I wake up to my stomach growling and my head clear. I get up and stand in the middle of my room for a second letting it sink in that this was still considered mine. I wandered around the house for a second until I found Bert in the kitchen making coffee. He asked me if I wanted some and I said yes, considering coffee was a rarity for me, because getting enough money from behind the coffee shop, to buy a coffee almost never happened. I ended up sitting at the table with Bert and my coffee and my stomach growled almost instantly.
“Oh yeah!” Bert started from the other side of the table. “I went out to pick up a breakfast, and didn’t know what you’ like, so I just picked up some donuts remembering you’d said something about them yesterday.
“Wait, donuts.”
“Yeah…”
“As in plural.”
“Yeah…”
“Does that mean I can have two?”
“That’s kinda the point of buying more than one.”
“You bought them?!”
“Yeah, otherwise that’s stealing from a store, and I’d go to jail.”
“Do you always have enough money for breakfast.”
“Yeah of course. Why all these questions?”
“I’ve just always had half a donut for my only meal of the day most times, and that’s if I’m lucky.”
“Well, now you can have multiple donuts and there are different types to choose from.”
“Choices!”
“Yeah come on.”
And with that Bert brought me to the kitchen to see five perfect, whole, paid for donuts in a nice box waiting to be eaten. I slowly walked over and picked up one, taking a big bite out of it, just really slowly.
Boy was that fantastic!
I could eat four. and that actually meant four this time not four halves.
I picked up another donut and headed back over to the table where me coffee had cooled down to a drinkable temperature and I smiled the widest I had in lunch while savoring every bite of my breakfast, afraid I would wake up from this dream at any moment.
Bert started to laugh, so I looked up at him with a questioning look.
“It’s just, I’ve never seen someone so happy to have donuts and coffee.” He managed to get out between laughs.
“This would have been an unthinkable meal for me just two days ago.” I try to explain, but shoving another bit in my mouth as soon as I’m done talking, deciding that there’s no time to waste with talking when I could be eating.
“Oh. I also have some friends coming over today, and I think you’ll like them Frank. But before then, we’re going to go out and get you more than one pair of clothes and other stuff. You also need a jacket, considering last night you had no jacket cause you came in shivering.”
“Well can this day get any better?” I ask myself really, just out loud. But not of course, without a huge mouthful of donut.
Notes
CHAPTER 2 YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYA.
I've decided that these chapters are always just going to be me writing for a relly long time and whatever gets developed gets developed. If it's a bad chapter, it's bad, and if it's good it's goo, short chapters will stay short and long chapters will stay long.
Anyway, I hope everyone who's reading my story still likes this chapter, because I'm having a lot more fun writing this one than I was writing my other book.
So yeah...
Thanks!
frank.is.love.frank.is.life
Love it. More detail on the kissing would be nice in the future. Just saying.
1/28/15