Our Foundations from Decay

Frank POV

My mind reeled as the boy slinked off to the therapist's room. My eyes followed his hunched figure as he disappeared behind the door. I had to get his name.

My sister poked me in the ribs, forcing me out of my reverie. "Is that the right guy? The one next to him seems sweet." I gave her a weird look and lifted myself off the seat, legs becoming unsteady without both arms to support me. Taking the chance to see who was accompanying the boy full of mysteries, I scanned the now- sitting kid. He looked small, a few years younger than me. His nose and eyes reminded me of something. Why did this kid seem so familiar?

"I bet he's related to the dude you're looking out for." Mentioned my sister casually.

Oh. Duh.

Without anything to entertain myself, I fiddled with the hem of my sleeves, watching as the obnoxiously bright clock ticked on the wall. Clocks. I hated them. The worst day of my life had a clock in it, yet every single day had a clock in it. It was so silly that such little things added up to the accident. One clock ticking too fast, streets too full. A boy too fascinating to give up on.

My legs felt weaker with every second I stayed standing in this overwhelming room.

My brain did not remember what I had seen as I layed there unresponsive those many weeks ago. Was the unnamed boy a victim of observation? Did he have to suffer for the very sin of having sight, of seeing the lives of so many being seized in an instant, cracking and ripping like the lungs of a tree with no roots?

Why was he forced to suffer alone?

And why was I being so corny? All these new emotions had been layered over me like an artist with no passion. I was left with all this painted on top of me, yet I had no idea where to go next.

My thoughts came to an abrupt close as I felt a weight slam into my chest, collapsing on top of me, sending me tumbling to the ground. Ouch, what an asshole. The boy quickly got off the ground. I looked up to see a hand held out towards me, it's black fingernails contrasting with almost sickly pale skin. I took the hand and was pulled up, my free arm quickly adjusting my clothes and piercings. I turned my attention back towards the culprit, and nearly let out a startled noise at the sight.

Mystery boy. Right here, in the flesh. hopefully.

"Are you okay?" I asked, only to get silence in response. He stared at me apologetically and started to walk off. Was this it? Was this the end?

"Wait!" I couldn't lose him again. "What's your name?" Once again the boy just stared at me impassively before heading towards me, a pen with a chewed on tip leaving marks on my cast. What? He pulled the pen away and gave me one last quiet glance before heading out the entrance.

I pulled my arm up and stared at the pen marks. Gerard Way. Did he misspell Gerald? What kind of a name was Gerard? My eyes glanced between me and my sister.

"Thanks for the help." I mentioned, sarcasm leaking into my words.

She just grinned at me, eyeing up the scribbled words on my broken arm.

"What's the next step? Are you going to find his address or something? Because that's creepy, Frank."

"I wasn't going to! I-I don't know what to do." I replied honestly, "I'm just glad he's alive."

I sank into my living room's couch, pushing my thumb into the remote. The tv's screen flickering from channel to channel, all stations stuffed with propaganda more useless than the bandages on my month-long healed arms.

"I was eavesdropping and when she said 'I've only got one' I was about to say 'one what?" I drained out the noise of her chatters.

"---cus I don't want them to think we were writing a fanfiction, right? She kept looking at us. It was so freaky. So anyway-" My sister spun her head towards me as I stared blankly at the flashing screen. "Frank, are you even listening?"

I spared her a glance, my hands fretting backwards and forwards. Was I listening? Was I truly listening to anything? My mind was a beach of shells being pounded by waves, the ocean's salt seeping into the wounds of my skull. Nothing was happening to make me feel anything of interest, my emotions crashing and burning with nowhere to go. 

"I'm so damn bored!" I suddenly shot off of the couch and started pacing the room. "2 months since the accident. I haven't made any friends, I haven't gone exercising, hell, I haven't even played the guitar!" 

I collapsed back down and huffed like some kind of grizzly bear, blowing stray hair out of my eyes. My sister looked at me with a demonic smile, her bright teeth shining at me as she grinned.

"I think it's time to go back to school, Frank."