The Poets Screamed For Us

Dark roads began to get darker, and Frank was struggling to keep his eyes open. He knew he would have to stop soon. Reluctantly, he pulled his car over, while secretly hoping he wouldn’t get murdered, seeing as he was parked in a very dark, abandoned road. He winced as the bright light from his phone met his eyes. He mentally cursed himself for having the brightness higher than 50 percent. He opened up google, and began looking up nearby hotels.
Suddenly there was a knock on his window and he screamed. His scream was a lot higher pitched than he would liked to have admit. “What the shit?!” He yelled out. He looked over to his window, and saw a boy, no more than 17 years old standing outside of his small, dirty red car. He hesitantly rolled down the window.
“Um, hi.. I’m sorry to have scared you, but it’s getting really late, and.. y’know, I don’t really know where I am. Would you mind if..?” He cut his sentence short, hoping Frank would get his drift. Frank, in any other circumstance would say ‘no’, because he was always scared he would invite someone into his clunker of a car, and they would rip his face off with their teeth or something. He’s seen some pretty crazy movies, so he knows how this goes. But he had a good feeling about the boy. He didn’t look like would want to kill him. Frank ran his hand through his soft shoulder length brown hair and nodded. “Sure, but you’ll have to ride in back, it’s pretty packed up here.” He said, motioning to his guitar he had strapped into the seat next to him.
“It’s no problem, thank you.” The boy said kindly, and crawled into the back seat.
“Where would you like to go?” Frank realized he didn’t even know the name of the stranger he was harboring.
“As far from here as possible. I’m Gerard, by the way.” He said and smiled at Frank in the rearview mirror, revealing several small teeth. “I’m Frank, and you got it.” Frank replied. He decided against staying at a hotel, because Gerard knocking on his window scared him to the point of being wide awake.
Frank started the car up, and began the drive back to little ol’ Jersey. He was tired from the gig he had played, and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep.

As Frank drove, he would sometimes glance at Gerard in the rearview. Gerard had a very sweet face. He had fallen asleep about an hour ago, and Frank took it as his chance to really scope him out.. which basically meant stare at him a lot. Frank was never really good with strangers.

The sun had finally begin to rise, and Frank passed a sign saying ‘Welcome to Pennsylvania’. He heard stirring behind him and came to the conclusion Gerard must be waking up.
“Good morning, Sunshine.” He said to the black haired boy in his back seat. Gerard giggled a bit and Frank could swear his heart had melted.
“Would you like some breakfast?” Frank asked, trying to break the small silence that had formed.
“Uh, yeah that would be nice.” Gerard was happy he had gotten into a car with Frank, and not some creepy murderer. Not that he wouldn’t have enjoyed it. He had always wanted to talk to someone who killed people, sort of just to see how they ticked.

The red car found itself parked outside of a small Mcdonald's.
Frank had told Gerard to order whatever he liked, and Frank settled on a large coffee and some fries. Once they were sitting with their food, Frank decided to spark up some good ol’ conversation.
“So, Gerard. Tell me about yourself.” Frank was hoping Gerard would at least be kinda cool.
“Um, I’m 17, I’m from Jersey and I like loud punk music and shitty movies.” He said with a smile, then took a sip of his strawberry shake. “What about you?”
Frank really had no clue how to answer. He basically was the same as Gerard, but he didn’t want to say that. He wanted to seem interesting to the young boy.
“I am 20 and I play guitar in a band. Actually I am driving back from a gig we had in Ohio. I’m also from Jersey, and that's where I’m heading. Hey, where do you want to go anyway?” Frank was actually hoping Gerard would tell him why he was leaving, but he didn’t want to be rude and straight up ask him.
“I don’t know, I guess I just want to get away.”

Notes

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