After managing to safely change into clean clothes that actually provided privacy for me, sneaking into the basement with Frank when his parents had retreated into their own room to sleep for a sleeping bag and finally getting settled after another half hour of hushed talking, Frank and I had finally managed to get some rest of our own. Granted, it wasn’t all that comfortable on the ground, but I was thankful that I was in a warm house rather than in the park for another night.

However, throughout everything that had happened that night and my soft pillow, I was still not able to have a peaceful night’s sleep. I repeatedly woke up what seemed like every half hour or so with a jolt much like I had done the night before at the park, and I would always glance over at Frank as I tried to regulate my jagged breathing to make sure that I hadn’t caused him to wake, before laying down and trying again.

The final time this had happened however, I awoke to an empty bed with Frank’s pyjamas thrown on top of it beside my own sleeping bag. At first I had been confused as to where he had gone, but when I read a short note that he had left on his pillow, I remembered our conversation from yesterday and sighed softly to myself.

He had gone to school, and I was left alone. The small and tattered alarm clock that had a small shine on its silver surface from the rising sun through the small window, and it had 10:49 glowing in red on its black screen. I bit my lip as I wondered what time Frank would be home, and when school had actually started. I was also concerned if he would come home with more bruises or even blood from being bullied, though I tried to constantly assure myself that he would come home in one piece.

The time was slowly approaching 11 o’clock when I decided to stand up from Frank’s bed and cautiously open the door, only to be greeted by silence. So, I did the only thing that I could think of doing at this point in time, and decided to explore the house, seeing as I was alone for the majority of the day. And this time, I could take time with looking at my surroundings without having to worry about getting caught.

The hallway had creamy coloured wall paper that felt rough to my fingertips and was starting to peel in corners, though it looked relatively clean; save from the small and almost unnoticeable patches of what looks like mould at the top and corners. The carpet also seemed as though it was in need of being replaced, as its softness has completely disappeared and left behind hard and flat flooring made of brown fabric. There were also a couple of picture frames that were hung up, just like in the kitchen downstairs.

I continued to walk through the hallway until I reached the next door, which happened to be the bathroom. It was probably large enough to fit about five people at the most, as the bath and shower, toilet and sink took up most of the room. A large cabinet is beside the sink on the wall to my left, beside the sink with a small mirror above it. I walked into the room to look inside it, only to find the average bathroom necessities; toilet roll, towels and other small but useful items. The smooth white flooring beneath my feet looked a lot cleaner than the hallway’s, as did the tinted-blue tiles on the walls.

Once I had finished inspecting the room and taking a real and much needed bathroom break, I decided to leave the room and go on to look around the rest of the house, which upstairs consisted of Frank’s parent’s room, a study room and another cabinet with a boiler in it. I then padded downstairs to then look around the living room that Frank’s parents had previously been in last night, the dining room, and I also took a quick look back around the kitchen that I had briefly seen yesterday, and into the basement. It was a lot warmer down there than last night had been, though several chills were still able to creep up my unclothed spine.

After shutting the basement door behind me when I returned back to the ground floor of the house, I walked back upstairs to retreat into Frank’s room with some sheets of paper and a couple of pencils and different coloured pens that I had discovered in a couple of the drawers in the kitchen. I also shut this door behind myself before going to sit cross legged on Frank’s bed, before glancing up at the time to find that only an hour had passed.

So, I just let out a soft sigh like I had done before, and started to decorate one of my sheets of paper with doodles; something that I had always been extremely good at, according to my mother when I used to cover her worksheets in them. My grandmother, Helena, used to understand though.

She would smile every time a pencil found its way into my hand, and sit beside me for the whole time as I drew onto the once plain paper, whether it would take minutes, or even a couple of hours. And if she wasn’t there to watch me as whatever I was drawing progressed, I would deliberately stop at points where I would be unfinished, wait until the time I would see her again, and finish the drawings with her beside me.

I will never forget how interested she would look whenever I would look over my shoulder at her every-now-and-again; her hazel eyes following every stroke of my hand on the paper that blinked fewer times than usual, and a small smile gracing her face whenever I would be close to finishing.

Other than my thoughts and hand moving across the page, everything else in my body seemed to shut down for an unknown period of time. Even my eyesight seemed to be failing me as I didn’t even take any of the drawing’s details in; my hand just seemed to be finding its own way around as if I were temporarily blinded. It was only when I heard a door shut downstairs that I immediately stopped drawing to quickly lift my head and look towards Frank’s shut bedroom door, my breath hitching in my throat as I began to panic.

“Gerard?” I then heard a familiar voice call, and I shakily dropped my paper and pencil onto the bed to stand and walk to the door and open it when I realised that the voice belonged to Frank.
“I’m upstairs.” I replied as calmly as I could, standing in the doorway as I waited for Frank to come up and join me in his room. I heard his footsteps quieten after he removed his shoes, and then get slightly louder and clearer when he came up the stairs.

He was wearing what he had been yesterday, and thankfully, he looked as though he was free of any new injuries, which made me smile at him in relief. He returned a small smile back in my direction, though he stayed in his place at the top of the stairs as he looked me over and adjusted his bag on his shoulder.

“You didn’t change?” He asked after an awkward moment of silence, making me bite my lip as I lowered my head to look at my current clothing, before glancing back up at Frank almost shyly.
“I didn’t want to go through your clothing; I thought it was rude...” I replied slowly, feeling a small burst of heat attempt to spread onto my face in slight embarrassment. This only gained a small giggle from Frank, and I moved out of his way so that he could walk in front of me to enter his room.
“Well, at least I know you aren’t a thief then,” He joked, sending me a grin after dropping his bag on the floor. “I’m pretty sure I have some clothes that would be able to fit you, and then I can take you to town or something to get some of your own. Sound good?” He then asked, and I smiled gratefully at him as I walked back into the room myself and shut the door behind me. When I turned around though, Frank had moved from his spot in the middle of the room, and rather than standing in front of his wardrobe, he stood beside where I had been previously been sitting, with my drawing in his hands.

“I, that’s my, uh...” I stuttered as he looked over the sheet of paper, his eyes carefully tracing over every line that I hadn’t even been paying attention to. What if I had accidentally drawn [i]Frank[/i]? Or maybe even Helena, or a special memory of mine? I nervously shifted my weight onto my feet continuously when Frank eventually lifted his gaze to meet my own slightly worried one, my hands wringing one another. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t-”
“It’s amazing.” He suddenly interrupted me, his eyes wide with an emotion I couldn’t quite put my finger on. His reply only made me more self-conscious than I had previously been, and I lowered my head slightly as I stuttered out my own reply.
“You really, I mean... Thank you?” I asked more than spoke casually, earning yet another giggle from the boy before myself. He then placed the sheet of paper back onto the bed, before heading over to his wardrobe and opening it up.

“You never told me you were good at art,” He mused as he began to take out multiple articles of clothing; shirts, pants and socks landing all over the once clean floor.
“Well, I... I guess I just didn’t think it was an important subject before.” I bit my lip before slowly approaching the bed, and picking up the drawing for myself to inspect. “You never told me that you were interested in art,” I countered back as I let my eyes look over the pencil-stained sheet of paper, not even bothering to look up and meet Frank’s grin that I knew would be on his face.

The drawing was almost enough to have me staring in disbelief at it, though I guessed that my face was pretty close to showing that anyway. It was just a simple picture of a glass pod with a darkened figure inside it; though its eyes were glowing bright inside of the glass with no pupil in sight. It didn’t take very long for me to figure out that the figure was myself, and that I had drawn myself as a monster in the pod I had escaped from in that one lab.

[i]The place where I became a monster[/i]. A voice in the back of my head rang out, and I let the paper slip out from between my fingers, making a small and quiet thudding noise when it came into contact with the floor. I could barely feel myself shake and tremble as I just stared in one place in front of myself, which was soon Frank’s worried face.

“Gerard,” He tried to snap me out of my trance-like state by shaking me by my shoulders and repeating my name, which only began to sound more desperate every time I failed to reply. “Gerard? Please answer me, Gerard!”

[i]Monster[/i].

“I don’t feel too good,” I choked out to Frank when he finally stopped shaking my body, though he kept his hands tightly clasped around the top of my biceps, as if he were practically holding me up.

[i]Dangerous[/i]. [i]Monster[/i].

I could barely hear Frank’s reply over the voices repeating inside my head, which only made me feel worse. I was slowly starting to get confused on which voices actually belonged to Frank, and which ones were just figments of my imagination.

Let’s get you to the bathroom... [i]Monster[/i]... C’mon, walk with me... [i]Freak[/i]... Small steps, Gerard... [i]Dangerous[/i]... We’re almost there... [i]MONSTER[/i].

My knees buckled on their accord once Frank had somehow managed to get me into the bathroom, and I desperately clung onto the toilet bowl as I started to let out harsh and broken sobs as well as beginning to completely empty my stomach’s contents, which hadn’t been much in the first place. I felt Frank’s hesitant hand rub my back in small circles as he moved some of my hair out of my face, and if I hadn’t heard his small gasp, I would have been more confused than now. I had only just stopped being ill, though Frank insisted that I keep my head down as he moved away my hair from the back of my neck.

“Wait,” He kept repeating when I tried to move just a little in a weak attempt from retreating from the horrible smell in the toilet, which only made me want to move more.
“Please, Frank,” I managed to speak in a hoarse voice, wiping away the small tear trails on my face as I attempted to blink back any other tears. “I’m going to be ill again if you keep my face here for much longer...” I shut my eyes to at least try to make the situation better, only to feel myself being pulled up onto my shaking feet.
“Come back into my room then,” Frank spoke in a rush, and quickly flushed the toilet before leading me back to his room almost carelessly; making me stumble in after him.

“What is all of this about, Frank?” I asked when he forced me to sit on his bed, and I made myself look anywhere but at my terrible drawing. I felt him launch himself onto the bed behind me, and his knees pressed against my back when he sat close to me to resume his previous actions of pushing my head forward with my hair away from my neck.
“I found something, I need-” He cut himself short and stopped his frantic movements when I guessed he had found what he was looking for, and I chewed on my lip nervously when his fingers traced over my skin.
“What is it? Is my skin getting even paler? Am I turning into a zombie?” I continuously asked ridiculous questions as Frank failed to speak for several minutes, though I kept my mouth shut when he did speak.

“No,” He whispered almost to himself; his fingers still lightly tracing over my neck. “You’ve got, it’s like... You’ve got black skin!” He exclaimed in what sounded like an excited way, and I couldn’t help but freak out a little at the sound of black skin.
“What? Do I have a disease? Am I dying? Why do I have black skin, [i]Frank[/i]?” I basically cried as I quickly shied away from his touch to hold the back of my neck with one hand, and turn myself around with my other so I could face him and meet his smile with my own worried expression.
“You have black marks in the shape of three water drops with a white number four in the middle of them, Gerard, you’re an [i]Element[/i]!”