A/N: Ohhh new story. I thought this would be an interesting plot line so yum hope you review guys! This is for very mature readers, alot of inappropriate material, I'm warning you now.

Prologue

Hayden slouched in the hard chair. His position would be uncomfortable any other time, but at the moment it didn’t seem to bother him, nothing did actually.

He squeezed his bloody fingers tightly as he stared at the lady bug in the grass with a trance. He didn’t blink, didn’t cough, didn’t move. He didn’t live, not anymore that is. Life for him was already over. It had ended bleakly.

“We’re sorry that he had to leave us at such a young age. Adolescent years are hard, many feel that these horrible times would never end, but they do. Our Frankie had so much going for him. He had so much to live for.” The preacher said.

“Like what? What could he possibly have to live for?” Hayden muttered under his breath. He glared up at the preacher with dark blue eyes hooded by messy black hair.

The young brunette woman in her mid thirties looked over at Hayden and nudged him politely.

“Please, you really don’t want to get into anymore trouble than you already are,” she hinted.

Hayden ignored her, he licked his dry mouth, and stared hard at the large picture of Frankie, baby Frankie, little Frankie with a big smile. Always a big smile on his face. Frankie’s smile hid so much, it hid so much from Hayden for so long, so many secrets that Hayden still didn’t know.

“We loved Frankie, we all did, and we’re sad to see him go.”

Hayden’s eyes darted over to his left. He wanted to see Charlie’s eyes, he wanted to see through Charlie.

“He has the decency to cry, he thinks that crying is gonna change what he did?” Hayden asked. He could feel the eyes of some of the other boys turning to him.

The brunette beside him again nudged him. “Let me remind you that you’re lucky to be here, Hayden. You have no idea how rare this is for them to let you out.”

Hayden again wasn’t listening to her, he was staring at Charlie.

“They killed him. They all killed Frankie.”

“Enough.” The woman hissed, and placed her hand on his arm in hopes that would bring him to his senses. He winced and pulled away from her loudly. The boys in the row before them turned around with alarmed looks.

Charlie saw that the boys’ attentions were elsewhere, and made eye contact with Hayden who was praying for his soul to rot in hell.

Charlie said nothing. His eyes said everything.

“I’m gonna kill him too,” Hayden whispered.

Lydia, the brunette, heard this, and shook her head, embarrassed that Hayden was interrupting the funeral.

“We have to go now,” She said, taking his arm. Hayden growled loudly, and yanked away from her. He was faster than any of them had expected. He knew what he was doing: he had planned to do this from the beginning. They couldn’t keep him here. They couldn’t expect that he would go gently.

Hayden ran, he ran and ran and ran. He ran till he had no breath…and then he ran some more. He ran to the beach, the beach that Frankie and he use to talk about.

The beach that Frankie wanted to see.

“I’ve never been to a beach before,” Frankie whispered, as he snuggled his face into the pillow. His soft brown eyes stared right back at Hayden as he laid there.

Hayden smiled tiredly. “Really?”

“Yeah, I’ve always wanted to, but I never got the chance.”

“I’ll take you to the beach,” Hayden promised. Frankie giggled quietly, a curl of brown hair falling into his eyes. Hayden reached out, and moved it silently then let his fingers stroke Frankie’s cheek.

“Promise?” Frankie asked, leaning into Hayden’s caressing fingers.

“Swear it.” Hayden said, and closed his eyes.

“I didn’t keep my promise, Frankie. I didn’t keep my promise. I lied to you, I lied, Frank.” Hayden cried as he looked at the heavy waves going.

Dropping the bag of things that he bought, Hayden let himself weakly fall to his knees, taking a shaky breath. He couldn’t run forever, they’d eventually catch him. He just hoped that they weren’t too early.

Wiping his sandy face, he reached into the bag, and grabbed the bottle of vodka that he stole from the store and ran right out with it.

Hayden licked his blistered lips, opened up the bottle, and gulped down a quarter of the liquid. It took him more than one try to keep it down, but he calmed himself and kept drinking. He couldn’t throw it up, he couldn’t.

Sniffling, Hayden dumped out the bottles of pills that he also stolen, and hurriedly opened them up.

The thunder above now was getting louder and closer.

Hayden chucked back half the bottle of whatever medicine he had grabbed, he chugged more of the vodka, it was going down somewhat easier. Grabbing another bottle of medicine, he repeated the process, again and again and again.

Hayden didn’t even realize that it had started to pour; he just let the rain soak his numb body. Blinking back salty tears and water, Hayden swayed with the wind and the water ahead.

Eventually, he ended up lying on the sand with his face pushed against it, the water was getting closer, and he could feel it wetting his already drenched hair.

A loud, aching sob erupted from his chest. He couldn’t hold it in but it didn’t matter because no one was around. Even if there was someone they wouldn’t hear him over the waves: the waves were louder, and the waves had won, just like they all did.

Hayden cried like a child, like a hurt child who had gotten his booboo for the first time. A child who had just caught the sight of blood. It scared him to death. He was a child who cried with frightened eyes wide open.

His cries were like screams, screams and cries, a loud screaming cry for Frankie, the screams that Hayden would hear Frankie yell in his sleep. The same scream that haunted Frankie forever, the scream of a boy trying to escape the harsh, unmerciful reality around him. Hayden choked on the salt water, and the tears, and languidly pulled himself over, and tried to see up at the dark sky through blurred eyes.

His chest heaved, and shook and yet his body was completely at peace, completely numb. And suddenly, Hayden got this feeling of bliss, of happiness, a possessed smile appeared on his mouth as he closed his eyes.

“Hayden,” the wind whispered.

Hayden creaked open his eyes, and there he was—Frankie. The Frankie Hayden saw when he first met him. Frankie stood there in the wet sand with skinny jeans, and black suspenders, with a black fedora on top of his head.

“What are you doing, Hayden?”

Hayden said nothing, he couldn’t say anything. He just choked on the water that was gurgling in his throat. He took deep breaths, well he attempted to, but his heart, his lungs, and his body were shutting down.

Hayden’s fingers twitched as they tried to reach for Frankie.

Frankie shook his head, but smiled anyways. “I should be mad at you, Hayden for doing this. You’ve been a bad boy.” He giggled.

Hayden nodded, and his eyes heavily closed.

“But its okay now, Hayden. It’s okay now, it’s all over, they can’t hurt me anymore.”

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