Bad Idea! ✐ FRERARD

✩ BABYSITTER'S CLUB ✩

Frank had seen a bigger goldfish eating at a smaller one. First it had pecked at the scales until the smaller one was kind of naked and vulnerable to infections. That was how the fear of himself was getting to Frank- it was taking bits of his sanity and defences at a time.

It always came in waves; what he should have done or said differently, what he shouldn't have done at all. He couldn't seem to undo it, he couldn't seem to even pretended he did anything right that night he got shot. All he could do was try to forget it all.

Frank jumped when he heard a notification on his phone light up the dim room, his hand coming up to wipe his face again as he lazily grabbed his phone.

He sighed when he saw it was a message from Bob, who he knew was just in the other room.

you alright?

Frank's eyebrows furrowed as he typed out a reply, his eyes still burning not just from sleep but from the bright light of his screen.

i'm fine
why'd you ask?

i heard you talking in your sleep

what did you hear?

dunno man
you just sounded scared

Frank sighed, rubbing his face again as he set his phone aside, not bothering to reply to Bob.

He grunted as he shifted back down in a laying position. He reached over to switch off the lamp letting darkness engulfed the room.

The darkness swirled around his curled form on the bed, tendrils of inkling bleak reminding him of his solitude. The silence echoing in his ears was the constant white noise that never shut up. His head swam in the fire burning inside, the only smoldering embers of a time where there had been other presences with him. But now the void had been slowly filled with a cold, howling storm of fear that refused to ever let up.

Frank felt completely and utterly alone in his room. In his mind. And even soul. Though most of all, at that moment, Frank felt entirely alone in the world.

✩ ✩

The egg yolk sun poured through the cracks in the blinds and awaited entrance into Frank's lazy eyes. His sight still in the clutches of the night's glue as he hesitantly rubbed the dreams off of them. Visions of his sleep came and went in waves, trying to cling onto the very last memory of the night but with little success.

Eventually Frank just rolled over on his side, ignoring the pain his cast was applying to his sensitive right leg. His deep cut hadn't fully healed yet, though it was definitely easier to handle than his cast. He had already become accustomed to the routine of bandaging it up and disinfecting it when necessary.

Frank managed to sit himself up after a few minutes of somber silence.

Frank let out a disappointing noise when he realised he would have to wait for Bob to wake up for work to help him get to his wheelchair. Usually Frank didn't like using it and just stayed on the couch all day, but today he wanted to get out to maybe see the park or something. Anything was better than being locked inside all day with absolute fuck-all to do.

He also hated being alone and bored because more often than not that would be when his buried emotions would surface and he would scratch at his hands until they were raw.

So instead, Frank waited for Bob to come in his room. Naturally he wasn't happy that he hadn't really gotten used to getting out of bed by himself, but he didn't want to accidentally do something that could hurt either of his legs.