Turn Off The Dark (Frerard)

Part Three

-Frank's POV-

I landed a job.

I guess I felt like I needed something to occupy my mind. Suicide still swan over and under my thoughts. When it wasn't at the forefront, it was plaguing the recesses of my brain. It seemed that if I was to find a purpose, leaving the house, no matter how much I hated to work, was an essential thing that I would just have to put up with.

The position was nothing special. Night watchman in a rather large, rickety old apartment complex. The only requirement was sitting in the lobby during the dark hours and make sure nothing horrible happened. Wasn't sure why they needed one. Maybe helpless old people lived in that place. All I knew was it paid decent money and required minimal human contact, if any, and was only a short walk away from my mother's house. I decided I would stop going to school altogether; that place was a toxic upheaval of rotten youth anyway.

I showed up my first day- or should I say, night- and received simple intrusions from the older man who sat the dreary lobby during the day.

"All ya gotta do is sit here, okay kid? Watch the tv, read a book, I don't give a damn what you do. Nothing ever happens here, but we gotta have someone on hand."

"Why is that?" I inquired, curious.

The man scratched his grizzled beard and leaned in closer, like he was telling me a secret.

"There's a psycho upstairs. Young guy, cant be more than twenty, but crazy all the same. Never leaves his damn apartment. Rumors say he's got bodies hidden up there, but who knows. We leave 'im be. Better that way."

"Oh." I shivered. A psycho. I had to watch over an ominous looking, dark building at night, with a supposed psycho living upstairs. Fan-fucking-tastic.

Maybe killing myself might've been the better alternative to being murdered.