Falling

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Flash Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
Who is Frank?

Submitted: November 08, 2014

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Submitted: November 08, 2014

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My name is Frank. I think. Maybe I used to be Frank. I’m not sure anymore. I’m not sure I can be. I seem to have changed. You see, I met someone out there.

It was poetic: her name rhymed with mine. She took me; they took my life. They didn’t approve. I don’t remember much but I remember how they got me: they kicked me, punched me, bottled me and throttled me. They cut me and burned me. Then when I was down, they did it again. But it doesn’t hurt when you’re dead already. It’s just something fun for them to do. I provided entertainment: always glad to serve a purpose.

Out there, where I long to be. With the one I love. For now I sleep here, wherever here may be. Sometimes I wake up. Occasionally when I’m awake, others around me are awake too. I ask them what rouses them. They say it’s when someone thinks of you; a bit like your ears burning: right for mother; left for lover. I lost my right ear in that final fight.

I’m new here and I ask lots of questions: why does my remaining ear (the left one) burn so much? Why can’t I rest? Why am I awake so much? The others close to me say that it’s because someone is thinking of me. Or talking about me. I wish I could tell her how much i think of her. I look over her and I guard her. But how can I be with her? Those who are close say I have to fall from here; to break my wings.

My arms, legs and heart were broken a long time ago and many times, so this won’t hurt: I’ll jump… …

And now I’m beside her. I’m broken but I’m awake. She was my awakening. She came into my life that was. I’m alive again.

She’s asleep. I shall watch over her for the rest of my days down here. The prettiest lies. Asleep. Waiting. Dreaming? Am I dreaming?

A figure approaches. All I can make out as I squint is indeed a figure; a number on his badge: 873. It’s a man; possibly a doctor. He’s wearing a white coat: Am I mad? He speaks to me:

“Frank? You’re alive again. You came back. You came down. Someone was thinking of you enough for you to take that leap of faith. You jumped Frank. You’re broken, so you’ll need to stay with us for a while but this sleeping girl is the one who’s dreaming of you.”

I croak: “Really?”

“Really.” The man in the white coat smiles. I realise there are others around him, all looking at me; some smiling too. “Frank, this is your future wife. Do you want to try again?”

“I do”.

(C) Steve Laker 2014


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