Wind-up toy (NOT MINE)

Chapter 1

Now I know you've been seeing red,
don't put a pistol to your head.
Sometimes your answer's heaven sent,
your way is so damn permanent.

There I was, driving, on the way back from my dad's house. Just knowing that I had a three-day ride ahead seemed to make me even more tired than I already was.
"I should have stayed for the night." I muttered regretfully. But really, that wouldn't have been a good idea. The tension between my father and me during my stay had been unbearable. He'd been maybe right to be mad, I was mad at myself after all. I had fucked up really badly over the last months. I had spent nearly all my money in the worst way. I had forgotten to pay my bills and was now riddled with debt. As if that wasn't enough, I'd ended up losing my job. I brought that on myself.

Releasing one hand from the wheel, I searched for my cigarettes in the pocket of my worn-out jacket. I grabbed one and placed it amid my lips, using the blue lighter that had been laying on the passenger's seat to get the unhealthy stick ignited. I took a deep drag and let it out slowly, watching the smoke escape through the car's open window.
The street I was traversing was almost deserted, so I permitted myself a moment to relax and contemplate the night sky. Being only 8 p.m. the full moon wasn't too high yet, though it was particularly luminous. I enjoyed the cigarette, leaning my head on the back of the seat while the sweet summer breeze blew on my black hair.

I laughed bitterly remembering my father's face when I told him what the main reason for my visit was. He had looked indignant when I asked for money to pay my debts. It was bound to happen, but I didn't have any other choice. I'd reached that conclusion after spending several days lying on my bed, just staring at the ceiling and pitying myself; using the little savings I had left to ruin my life even further, getting dangerously deeper into a path that I knew would be too hard to abandon later.

I had suddenly reacted, realised that I'd screwed up enough. It was crucial to stop my fall before things got worse, I was still in time. I decided that I should get a new job and make it last. However, to try and start all over again, I needed money. And I didn't need it in a month but now, or else I'd end up homeless. My savings were barely sufficient to keep me fed.

I couldn't ask my mom. She worked as a nurse and was always making miracles to get through each month, taking care of the house and helping my younger brother support his studies. I had thought of calling my father; but knowing him, this wasn't a subject to discuss over the phone. That's why I'd opted for talking to him in person.

After my parents got divorced, my father was offered a new job that required him to move across the country. My brother Mikey and I weren't little kids anymore, so he'd considered it the best option.
Even though it was definitely far away, in this case the long trip would give me time to organize my thoughts.

We hadn't seen each other in a year and my dad seemed blissful when I arrived, regardless of how shattered I looked. It was such a pity -yet no surprise- that his joy didn't last. His expression had grown gradually darker and darker as I confessed that I lost my job and explained how it'd occurred. He had stood up and paced the room furiously while I filled him in with the details, describing what I'd been up to lately. There was no use in lying if I wanted to change my life.

He had screamed at me. He had cried and I'd joined him, repentant. I had begged him to forgive me, promised I would make the right choices this time; I only needed his help. He had finally given up and agreed.

Right after leaving his house I'd driven to a bank to deposit the money, calling my best friend to ask him to withdraw it. I wanted my debts taken care of immediately, and I trusted Ray with my life.

******
Honks woke me from my recollection, and only then I noticed that I had reached a main avenue. I was used to my quiet town, so the loud noises and bright lights of this bigger city made me feel uncomfortable, suddenly small and lost. All of the confidence I had been gathering on the way to my dad's, all of the things I'd tried to convince myself of, all of the plans I had made appeared to be slipping off my hands at that exact moment. I felt like giving up. I was nothing. I was convinced that if I died no one's life would change. Sure, my family would be sad, but they'd go on with their lives. My friends would be hurt, but they'd get over it eventually. No one depended on me. I wasn't a person who was making a remarkable difference in anyone's life.

My dark thoughts got interrupted by yet more honks mixed with angry screams. The traffic was stopped. When had I hit the brakes? I couldn't tell. I was amazed at how I was still be alive, bearing in mind that most of the time I wouldn't pay attention while driving.
I stuck my head out of the window to see what was causing the jam, and what I saw was nothing I could have expected.

There was a small person dancing among the cars, happily skipping from side to side of the avenue, twisting and turning with both arms wide open and making reverences in front of the cars' lights as if they were spotlights. It seemed to be someone very young, though I couldn't tell if it was a boy or a girl. Long hair -at least shoulder length- covered the stranger's face, and the tight jeans and loose, red t-shirt weren't revealing much more.

The drivers were getting impatient, yelling at the dancer and hitting their horns untiringly. Some, tired of waiting and being ignored, passed him/her by hazardously close. I felt a chill. The teen was apparently unaware of the danger, now jumping up and down and clapping hands. What was wrong with this individual? Was he/she on drugs?

I couldn't endure the sight, couldn't stay there and watch someone die. Not thinking twice, I quickly parked my car at the side of the road and got out, running towards the little person.
"Come on! Let's get you outta here, they'll run over you!"
"L-lemme dance!" answered a childish voice that didn't help me decipher the gender.
"You're stopping the traffic, this is not a place to dance..." I continued patiently. I heard a choir of insults coming from the drivers.
"Of...of c-course it is! Th-this....this is a d-disco, don't you s-see? I...I s-saw it on TV!"

Seeing no other option, I picked him/her up by the waist and dragged him/her to the sidewalk kicking and screaming.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" I asked, keeping my hand on 'its' wrist now. No answer.
"Hey..." I reached out for the face and got the hair out of the way. I was met by a pair of bright, hazel eyes, pupils rapidly and continuously shifting. That wasn't normal. Perfect eyebrows, perfect nose, perfect skin. Too pretty to be a boy, but that's what he was. I knew it by the barely discernible shadow over his also perfect mouth. He, who didn't look more than 15, smiled to me widely, extending the hand I wasn't holding.
"H-hi! I'm F-frankie. W-wanna be my f-friend?" he said enthusiastically. As I shook his hand he jerked his head weirdly, like a nervous tic.
"I'm Gerard, pleased to meet you."
"I...I like y-your name." he stammered. With yet another smile he blinked, trying to focus his eyes but failing. I couldn't help mirroring the smile, he was endearing. Although surely high.

"You're coming with me until I know what's up with you, little man." I walked Frankie to the car, unlocked the passenger's seat and motioned for him to get in. He didn't fight me. Once I was also inside I stared at the boy. He seemed out of it; swinging his legs, scratching his head compulsively, murmuring under his breath and now and then shaking.
"Frankie...where do you live?" I asked. Nothing.
"Did you hear me?" I insisted. He jumped when I touched his hair, startled. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Now that I got your attention, would you tell me where you live?"

Frankie looked up at me, his eyes once again unable to stay focused. He seemed to sadden for a moment, then grinned.
"Y-you seen the giant f-flowers?"
"What...what giant flowers? Where?" I got confused by his random change of subject.
"Duh! Ev-everywhere!" he stated, visible irritated.
"Uh...no, sorry." My answer made him frown, but he kept silent. I went straight to the point. "Frankie...what did you take?"
"Wh-what?" he tilted his head.
"Did you...how do you say it...sniff something?"
"Hahahahahaha d-dogs sniff! I'm n-not a dog!. I...I like th-them, though." he laughed.

I paid attention to the way he talked. He mostly got stuck at the beginning of sentences and also struggled with some words in the middle, but spoke the rest rapidly.
"Let's see then..." I sighed loudly, arming myself with patience. "Did you inject yourself with something?"
"Uh? Y-you don't do th-that to yourself. No. N-no you d-don't. S-someone else d-does. But F-Frankie was a g-good boy. N-not necessary. Nope." he shook his head and continued to talk to himself.
"What do you...?"
"W-wanna candy?" he offered out of nowhere, showing me his empty hand.
"Maybe later, thanks..." I tried to smile. This Frankie boy was really fucked up.
"K-kay!"
"Did you take any pills?" I proceeded with the interrogation. Frankie opened his mouth and hit his head with his hand, as if he had suddenly remembered something important.
"N-no I didn't! I...I sh-should have...I gu-guess. Yes. D-definitely. B-but there was n-no one to give them t-to me. I...I didn't take m-my pills. N-no I d-didn't." the boy affirmed worriedly.

And that's when my theory completely changed.