Don't ever think I'll make you try to stay

- - -
It was a Monday and another cold morning. It was so dull and gloomy outside and a pretty much shitty day altogether. I mean, Frank was shitting himself cause he hated loads of people or unfamiliar places. Oh, how he hated them. He was anxious. Anxious about everything. That people wouldn't like him. That people would like him.

As he was sitting on the bus, on his way to school he began to think about suicide.
What if I do it?
Will anyone notice,
Would anyone care?
'I could hang myself, or just overdose on my pills... '
'or just run under a fucking car or something?' frank already hated this day and it had hardly even started yet.

He had tried to look socially acceptable by gathering up a couple of things. He was wearing black clothes with a denim jacket, and he'd worn his special skeleton fingerless gloves too. Frank had also done up his hair by straightening it and dyeing parts of it red and shaving a small bit of it. And he wore eyeliner.
Call it guyliner, whatever.

Frank had beautiful big eyes. He didn't realize it but his eyes were so invitingly deep and warm; they were heavy-lidded, irresistible and the colour of warm ochre. The type of eyes you could stare into forever.

- - -

Notes