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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Drama · #646081
I never had a friend till I met Frank.
Everyone knows where he or she grew up. The place they would go to enjoy the silence, the place where they met their friends.

There was nobody that liked me in Utah, Texas. I felt alone. Then again I chose that type of life for myself. The comfort of silence is what I enjoyed. Till around the month of May, I met Frank.

I was hanging around the front of a gas station, leaning against the wall. He walked and stood there next to me. I looked at him. He just stared straight ahead. The look in his face was unnatural. His beard covered his face all that you saw when you looked at him was his eyes. As I looked into them I could tell he had been through a lot. "I hate this town." I turned my head and looked at the cars pass by. "I don't know it's not that bad."

Frank kept quiet as we stood there just watching the cars pass by. All my life I never knew what to say when I talked to someone. As I stood there next to frank. I felt like I did not have to worry about what I said.
"What's your name?"
"Frank."
"My name is Jason."

Frank turned his head toward me, but his eyes stared to the side as he talked to me.

"Do you ever think about what is most important to you Jason?"
"Yeah."
"What if you had nothing that gave any meaning for you?"
"But that's not true, there is so little that could mean so much."
"Like what?"
"When I was little my father use to beat my mother. One day I climbed out my window and pass my backyard was this wooded area. I walked as far as I could until I did not hear the screams no more.Sitting out there I looked up at the clouds peaking through the branches and listening to the sound of nothing. Even though so much was going on around me I enjoyed what little I had."

Frank turned his head to the front of him.

"I'm sorry."
"That's all in the past."
"Looks like you still enjoy the silence though."
"Yeah I still do."

We stood there in front of that gas station for three hours. At 11:00 p.m. Frank turned toward me.
"It was nice meeting you Jason."
"Same here to."
"Same spot tomorrow?"
"Sure."

He walked off, I watched him walk into the darkness until I did not see him.We did not just meet there the next night, but every night for the past six months. We talk every once in a while. Mostly we kept quiet. I think he enjoyed the silence that was around me. There was very little I knew about him. Something I knew about him was that each day he grew sad. Since he was my only friend I worried for him.

"Can you tell me whats wrong?"
He turned his head toward me.
"I stand out here every night. Not just for the silence but to think of what next."
"What do you mean by next?"
"One day I was at this mall, there I looked all around me. I saw a man kissing his girlfriend. There was a man with his family as he walked with them there was a smile on his face. An elderly couple sat on a bench enjoying each other's company. As I went home all smiles were gone. Reality hit me there was no one for me."
"Things take time there never going to happen right away."
"I don't have time."
Frank walked away; I did not want to stop him. If he did not want to listen I was not going to tell him anything more.

The next day as I walked toward the gas station. I saw red and blue flashing lights. Walking up closer, I noticed it was an accident on the road in front of the gas station. I stood next to some onlookers. I could hear the cops talking to each other. "The son of a bitch just walked in front of the car." There was a white sheet over a body on the road. I looked at the gas station. I did not see Frank, so I walked up to one of the cops.
"Excuse me."
"What?"
"Can you tell me who died?"
"We are not sure who he is."
"I think I might know him."

As the cop walked me toward the body, I saw the car that him. The front windshield was shattered; blood was splattered on the hood of the car. The cop lifted the sheet off of him. It was Frank.
"Yeah, I know him. His name is Frank."
"You a friend or relative?"
"A friend."

I thought of the other night when I could have told him something to change his mind. He took his path I chose mine. It was the last time I ever went to the gas station.


© Copyright 2003 james lee (goodmoro at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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