Psychopathic ✔️

Chapter Seven

Frankie sighed, washing his face once more in the bathroom. He had woken up from a dream in which he was being strangled by Mitch, and had rushed to the bathroom. He then proceeded to throw up the contents in his stomach. It was mostly just bread from the small amount of food that his kidnappers provided, but he felt light headed after.

After washing out his mouth a couple of more times, he walked to his bed and laid down on his side. The arm that had gotten injected with the needle was freezing up and getting cramps at times; and afterwards it would gain some strength. The only conclusion that Frankie could come to was that the shot that Leroy had given him was taking effect - or his arm was just reacting badly to it. He didn't know which one was worse, and for that reason he decided not to think about it.

"Oh, you've woken up early?" Mitch didn't stop to let the younger boy answer. He instead started blabbering on about how he would wake up in the wee hours of the morning just to stare around the room and think about his future and life.

"Mitch?" Frankie questioned, having a question that he had been wanting to ask for a while on his mind. Mitch hummed in response, giving the boy his attention. "Why don't you ever take your hood off?" The older man sucked in a breath, not sure if he should show the younger boy his face.

"Would you like to see my face?" Mitch broke the silence after a minute or two passed by, making up his mind. He was going to do it. He was going to show the boy his face. He reasoned with himself, stating that the boy and him would be rooming together for a while no doubt; so it would be fair to show him his face.

Frankie nodded his head, eager to see why Mitch was hiding his face. Mitch's hands reached up and he pulled down his hood so that it sat behind his head. His tan skin had what looked to be claw marks on each side from his cheekbones to his jawline. One of his eyes was white and grey - like he was blind or something - while the other was a dark blue. Frankie didn't find the man's face frightening, and he would never judge him for it. Mitch was just a bit different. He may look dangerous, but oddly enough, Frankie wasn't scared of him.

"How'd you get those scars? And what happened to your eye? Is it a contact? Are you blind?" The curious boy asked, wanting to know what had happened to Mitch's face.

"I . . . I did that to my face and eye. I wanted to cut myself out of my skin. I wanted to bleach my other eye, too . . . but a friend stopped me." The younger boy's eyes widened.

But he still wasn't scared.

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