Relapse

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I gasp and wake up, less influenced by the drugs I took hours ago but more confused, somehow.
"Frank?" I call, holding myself up on my arms, lifting my stomach off the mattress.
I get a knot in my stomach when I realize I'm alone. Alone. I haven't been alone in so long, I couldn't be alone anymore. "Frank??" I call louder. I rush to my bags of new clothes and pull out a white spring dress, that fell just above my knee, it fit my chest and a few inches under and then flowed away towards the end, but that wasn't important. I threw that on, and quickly dug flip flops out from anywhere, rushing to find the room key, then forgetting it, figuring Frank had at least one. I ran out of the room letting the door slam (and lock) behind me. I was sober enough to dress myself and know Frank wasn't with me, that's it. In every other aspect, I was still on a good trip turning bad. Everything was confusing, how fast I was walking, the pattern on the carpet, people's voices made me jump, then I realized I didn't know where I was going, reverting back to being a child, unable to find my mom in department stores, I went back to my instincts. "Frank!!" I yell, looking around, worried. "There's that voice" I hear a man's voice behind me. I turn around to see a big guy, maybe six feet tall, early forties, balding, and scowling. "I had to listen to you whine for that little faggot all afternoon"
"don't fucking call him that!!" I shove him by his shoulders, remembering how Frank felt about that word, from his story when I first learned about him.
The guy laughed, a loud, raspy, off putting chuckle, obviously I forgot the size difference between us two, and even in my state of mind, I felt weird about this guy.
He pulls out his wallet and waves it in the air, "how much? Fuckin' whore" he mumbles. I slap the wallet out of his hand, "he's my fucking fiancé, now leave me the hell alone" I stop towards the elevators but the guy grabs my arm and pulls me back, "alright, I'll just wait until he gets back and get the free stuff through the walls" he laughs another disgusting laugh and I try and shove him, spitting curse words at him left and right.
I've been standing here trying to get away from this guy for what seems like twenty minutes, then I see Frank walking quickly down the hall. He smiles at me and I hug him tight, knocking him back a few steps. He grins a little and holds my back. "Where were you Frankie!" He backs up a little and holds up a check from the casino reading: '$20,000' we celebrate for a second but then his smile turns into a serious, intimidating look, grabbing my hand and unlocking the room door. "Here's the faggot now!" The guy calls, making Frank's head snap to his direction. "What the fuck?" Frank turns his head to the side. "Frank, no, just come on please" I try and pull him in the open door. "What the fuck did you just call me?" They take a few steps toward each other. "Frank, this guys bad news, come on, please!" I try and pull him in again but he moves from my grip. "You might want to remember how short you are before you act so tough, fag" "don't fucking call me that." Frank closes his eyes. The guy moves his face fearlessly to Frank's, "fag."
"Frank!" I try and snap him out of it but it's too late. He swings at the guy, and hits him in the nose, a little blood trickles out and then the guy shoves Frank into the door, knocking all three of us inside. He slams Frank's head on the side of the wall and then punches him in the side of his face one, two, three times. "Get off of him!!" I scream and try and pull Frank away from him. Frank falls to the ground, knocked out, then the guy shoves me into the wall, lifting me up then throwing me into the bed, pressing his body to mine immediately.  "No!!" I scream until my throat feels raw. He pins my arms above my head and unbuttons his pants, trying to shove a pillow over my sobbing face. "You're a loud one aren't you?" He grunts as he fiddles with my panties, trying to move them off of me. I squeeze my eyes shut and scream as the man freezes, dropping his mouth open and lurching forward a few times before falling off of me. Once the guy falls off the bed, I see Frank, holding a pair of sharp silver scissors, dripping with blood, breathing heavily and looking crazed. He kneels on either side of the man's legs and stabs him so many times I lose count. He moves quickly, blood pooling out from the man's chest and nose as Frank screams a ton of things, a few being "don't touch her" and "don't call me that" he slows down stabbing, although the man has been dead, and slits his throat, opening the scissors and quickly slicing, then drops the scissors onto the body, falling on his side, sobbing into his hands, covering him in blood even more. He whines, his voice cracking before he yells, "I haven't killed in so long"
I fall on my knees next to him and hug him, starting to cry with him. He kisses my cheek over and over and repeats, like a child, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorrryy"

"Hey, HEY" I grab his blood-splattered face.
"Why are you sorry?"
He hiccups from crying so hard, "B-because, I told you I'd protect you, I told you, I told you it's about you, t-that I'd d-do anything for you, and I fucking," he sobs again into my shoulder.
"You were getting fucking moneeyy" I drag out my sentence so he listens.
"And on top of that, you just saved me from getting raped, or whatever was gonna happen, you should not be apologizing. You know what Frank? Thank you."
"Oh my God." He pauses.
"We need to get out of here, there was a lot of noise, and we're covered in blood, and the fucking body" he pulls his own hair and his eyes widen, water still dripping from them.
"We gotta get out of Jersey."

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