Frank had never really been the kid that people liked. They hadn't been able to get to know him. He was mute. He couldn't speak. Frank had no way of communicating with people, other than paper and sign language. But most people couldn't sign and next to no one took the time to read his lengthy explanations or stories... So they left him alone.
Frank had had friends when he was younger. He had been able to speak back then. He had an infectious laugh that could bring a smile to a dying man. Frank had had a way with people. He had gotten on with everyone and no one had been able to hate him or get mad at him. It had been that way until Frank had gotten in that accident.
It was amazing, to Frank at least, how a piece of glass, lodged into his throat could effectively almost kill him and then take away the one thing he loved-making people laugh or smile. He had lived, obviously, but he wasn't the same. All of his vocal chords had been severed and he had almost died of blood loss and suffocation-he had almost drowned in the blood that had come out of his throat and into his windpipe.
Frank was used to it. He got used to the loneliness quickly. He knew it would do him no good to be upset over it all. Frank was used to being that odd kid out, that no one wanted on the team or in their group for projects. He was that kid that was exempted from oral presentations and answering questions because he wouldn't have been able to do it.
"Kid! Where the hell do you think you're going?" Frank's head jerked up. He realized he had been wondering around the city for quite some time now, paying no attention to where he was going or where he had been.
He was completely lost.
"I asked you where the hell you thought you were going!" He looked at the three burly men that were advancing towards him. They were at least six foot two and probably over 200 lbs. of straight muscle. Frank, at barely five foot four and not even 130 lbs., knew he was outmatched in more than one way.
"What's the matter?" One man, the tallest, shoved him against the wall of the alley he had been trudging down. Frank was scared. His heart was beating so hard in his chest that he was sure they could hear it.
"Cat got your tongue, boy?" The one on the first man's right sneered. Frank shook his head and made to point to his throat, but one of them grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. If Frank could have cried out in pain, he would have. But all that happened was his face contorted in pain and he fought back tears. He had been beat up plenty of times in his life, but he had a feeling this was different.
"Hah!" The third laughed, "The kid's a mute! Should be easy to take him back to Him, you think?" Frank was shaking with fear now. He didn't try to hide it, what was the point in that? The front man grabbed Frank roughly by the hair and tugged him forward, off the wall, while the other man pinned his arms behind his back.
"Hm..." He took a deep breath, as though he could smell-and was enjoying-Frank's fear. "Oh yeah, it should be really easy." He pulled out a dirty bandana and tied it over Frank's eyes.
