Frank's dreadful story

It was a bright sunny Monday night . Dracula and his friends finished their tedious work at the hotel. At the Hotel, Dracula, a happy vampire, whistled happily for his another cheerful night. Well, we all know that the sunlight was their old nemesis. "Night Drac!" greeted Wayne, waving and smiling. Dracula greeted back. The wooden door abruptly open widely, Dracula and Wayne recognised a familiar dal figure. It was their Friend, Frank. "Night Frank! Nice to see you around on this wonderful night!" said Wayne. Frank walked away from Dracula and Wayne,shook his head and sighed disappointedly.

Dracula and Wayne looked at Frank"s moves to study Frank's expressions. "I don't understand, Frank will usually greet us and give us a smelly mouse bread (cheese bread,I think?)which we are so engross with." Dracula gave a confused look to Wayne. Dracula knew that Wayne was thinking the same thing. The furry werewolf patted Dracula's shoulder to give him comfort. "Probably, Frank was tired for a work today." said Wayne.

Dracula nodded but he was still unsure if Frank the Frankenstein was tired, Dracula didn't want his friend Frank to suffer from his , since Frank was disappointed tonight, Dracula would agree with Frank. "I guess you're right" said Dracula, smiling at his Frank.

Frank closed the door a bit and hoped that no one followed him. "Nobody is here." Frank muttered to himself. Frank closed the door shut and took his diary out of his small dark black spider-web covered box. "Another bad day, another same day." Frank sighed, his head rested in his folded arms as he leaned on the table. Then Frank started to read his stories in his written diary to see how dreadful and dismal about his past.

-( Frank's diary- day one)-

Dear Frank's diary,

I had another miserable dreary day as I still can't get over my past relationship between my father and I. Living with my Father in a dire conditions is becoming unbearable. Ever since my mother died from her melanoma which was some sort of skin cancer. I had to live with my father, sometimes he drink his beer and come back home. My father is the only family I had and I don't want to leave him. I still dream that

my father and I could always have laughter and joy and the people who take so much care. Well, that's all it ever be.

Frank closed his book, and lied on his bed. Frank had not write his diary ever since he employed to work at the hotel. Frank still felt regretted for leaving his father and had grown.