He wore asports bra and running pants with a built in panty. He grabbed a pair oftight shorts and a brief top. Pulling his hair back and slipping on socksand sneaks, Frankie ran along the road and the ocean. Frankie was having a slow comeback from not running for the past sixmonths. The real problem in trying to come back to running was hisstamina. He figured you couldn't loose thirty pounds and expect to stillrun hard for miles. He paced himself and tried to run for an hour.Hot and sweaty, he hit the shower upon return. After drying himself off,he slipped on a bathing suit and was surprised that it was snug on thetop, too. He decided to mention this to Helen when he talked to her thatmorning. He decided that maybe he'd stop taking the estrogen, too. Itcouldn't hurt to be chemical free for the rest of the summer.As he sat there contemplating his growing breasts, he thought about Alexand what he should do. He liked the man but wasn't ready for another guyin his life after the disaster. Dad’s T.V. sounded like static and as quiet as this place is, I always heard something from his room to let me know he was in there, but everything seemed so dead, it was eerie. I felt like I was in some horror flick and I was one of those moron girls thatwalk towards the very place the killer was at. I half expected to hear ‘Don’t go in there, you fuckin’ dumbass!’ from a random viewer. I slowly made my way to his door, glancing around me like some paranoid freak and gently pushed the door open. Peaking through the crack I made in the door, Dad wasn’t in his normal spot on the bed, but I saw his back from where he was sitting at his desk. He looked like he was slumped forward, so I walked in the rest of the way. ‘Hey, Dad. You ok?’ No response. As I got closer, I noticed an empty bottle of pills tipped over next to him with a half-empty bottle of Vodka. My heart felt like it hit the bottom of my stomach and threaten to jump up through my throat. I rushed over to him and shook him.
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