Never Coming Home

Awake and Afraid

"Do you remember when we first met?" Frank heard Gerard say.

"How could I forget..?" The boy answered. It was the worst day of his life.

Gerard sighed. After the scuffle, Gerard was able to complete the hole in the wall. It wasn't much, just a crappy chink large enough to fit a small string. He then put a hole through one of the coffee cans and tied the string through it. Brendon and Ryan had the other one.

"It's almost time." Gerard mumbled, pushing a strand of hair behind his ear.

"How can you tell?" Frank asked.

"I just know."

Just as Gerard had said, the high pitched alarm blared, and the door unlocked with a quiet click.

Frank scooted back towards the wall, petrified, but Gerard stood his ground, waiting to be taken away. To him, there was no use in fighting anymore.

When the door flung open, Gerard stuck out his hands, fists closed and facing down, ready to be cuffed. He was dragged away quickly without protest.

Two other men approached Frank with the same pair of cuffs, but as we all know, Frank was more of a fighter. The only difference this time was that frank wasn't fighting with anger or hope. He was just scared out of his mind, and when you fight with fear, you can never have enough strength to help yourself.

There was no punching, scratching, or kicking. Just a lack of walking and a lot of screaming.

It was pitiful to see Frank this way, having lost his spunk and attitude. He was nothing more than a object to his captors. What a shame.

Now, Frank was blindfolded and cuffed, just like every other time, but he felt like he was being lead a different direction this time. Before, Frank would count his steps, and once he hit sixty, he would be in the old 70's styled room. Now he's reached eighty five and still he was blindfolded and cuffed.

Frank could feel his knees shaking with every step as he tried to somehow picture his surroundings in his head. He was definitely past his old room.

A door opened.

Frank found himself in a...

No it could be.

The blindfold was ripped off, and the first thing Frank noticed was Gray.

Then a window.

Outside of the window was Frank's old yellow walled room, and his roommate, Gerard, staring at him with wide eyes.

Frank was in the wrong room.

He was in the wrong-

"Hello!" Boomed a voice, frightening Frank as he jerked on his restraints. The man was the one who operated on Gerard, the Surgeon.

"Sir.." Frank's voice trembled, "I-I'm not supposed t-to be in here-"

"And your friend is? Really, Frank, how selfish of you!"

Frank turned to see Gerard pressed against the window, pounding on it and screaming Frank's name. He could swear Gerard was saying "it was supposed to be me" over and over again.

"Now," Surgeon smiled, "where do we begin?"

Frank shut his eyes, wondering where he would be if he never applied for his job, and if his mother was alright.

Frank then felt a pair of gloved fingers run down his arm, making him shiver.

"Who's Jamia?" Surgeon asked, circling his fingers over the black and white heart that sat on Frank's hand.