GERARD
"Frank, what do you mean?"
"She's gone, Gerard. She left me with my dad. Gee, I can't stay here, please, do something." I could hear the tears in his voice. I might not have known him long, but he's a sweet kid. I had to do something.
"What's your address?"
"What?"
"What's your address? I'm not letting you stay there, so I'm picking you up."
"R-really?"
"Yeah."
"I'm on 192 Brookside. I-i-i, I don't know what to say, Gerard, this is,-"
"I might not have known you long, but don't worry, I'll protect you. And call me Gee."
FRANK
As soon as I got off the phone with Gerard, I packed a bag with my things. I grabbed my old duffel bag, and went to my closet. I grabbed a few t-shirts, jeans, socks, underwear, a couple sweatshirts, my converse, my gym sneakers, pajamas(pyjamas for any U.K readers), and then went to my bureau. I got my eyeliner, hair gel and brush, my mom's note, the money, and after much hesitation, my razors. In case there was ever a need for an escape. I grabbed my toothbrush, phone charger, phone, and backpack. Then I heard the horn honk. It was time. As I was leaving, I took a picture of me and my mom, my favorite picture of her. Then I left, for who knows how long, maybe forever.

Notes