Love's Evil Laughter (Jeff x Reader)

Don't

 I opened my mouth and bit the side of her hand, as hard as I could. She screamed, I only tightened my jaws grip. I felt veins, bone and muscle moving in her hand as my teeth suck it. I felt a crunch and eventually felt something warm in my mouth. Blood. She was wailing, squirming, flailing. Her friends tried to pry her away from me, but I didn't let go until I lifted a leg and kicked Jen ricked in the stomach. I got up, holding myself, blood covered my clothes.

                     Before a chase could ensue again, as they aided the lead bitch, I bolted in the direction of my house, tear still streaming down my cheeks. About halfway home, I was out of breath and stumbling down the street. Tears still came from my eyes, blocking my view. I knew I didn't lose enough blood to pass out or anything, but the pain was awful. 

                When I got home, I stuck my bloody hand in my pocket for my keys. Nothing. "Shit!" I was having the worst day. Yesterday was definitely better than this. I went to the back yard and examined the routes I could take to my room's window. There were plenty of available places to hold onto and step if I just climbed the wall. So I took that route, just wanting to get in. I lifted my arms to grab onto some bricks and cried out, the wounds on my stomach reopening. 

                I wanted to get it over with and just climbed the wall, pulling out the screen, dropping it on the ground below. I'd get it later on my window and pushing up the glass. I crawled into the window, falling onto my floor just laying there for a while. 

                I finally got up and went to the bathroom for the first-aid kit and began tenting to my wounds. I was used to this by now. After I finished I went downstairs and into the backyard to retrieve the screen to my window, setting it on the kitchen counter. I got a bowl of cereal, carefully sitting on the couch, turning on the tv. News. Who the hell watches that? I was scrolling through channels, picking up bits and pieces off the news. Murders. Crazed man. Basic shit. I sighed, turning on some cartoons out of pure boredom.

                After my "dinner" I slowly stood up and walked to the kitchen, throwing the bowl in the sink, a loud clanging sound ringing through the room. I grabbed the screen and dragged myself upstairs, throwing the screen to the side and laying down. I looked at my bandaged arm and sighed again.

                Whats a few more...? I thought to myself, zoning out to the depression. I stood up, walking to the bathroom, grabbing a razor and a couple wet paper towels. Sitting back down on my bed, I stared at the thin, sharp object between my fingers. Tears burned at my eyes before flowing down my cheeks and onto my hands and the blade. I shut my eyes, taking a breath, and pressed the razor to my wrist. 

                Something took hold of my arm, pulling it and the razor away from my already scarred one. I gasped, looking up. A boy about my age stood before me, holding my arm. "Don't," he whispered. I jumped, realizing it was the guy who attacked me yesterday. 

                I finally got to see him. I looked at his face, his hair still surrounding most of it, but I could still see him. There were large black circles around his wide eyes. They still looked sad. Why was he sad? I looked at the rest of his face. His cheeks were scarred with what looked like used to be a carved in smile that healed over time. 

                I sat there staring at him for a while before I finally broke the silence. "Why are you here?" He seemed taken aback, but it looked like he realized how weird all of this must seem. 

"Well, I saw you coming home, you were hurt. I followed you home, watched you climb in through your window, and I wanted to make sure you patched yourself up alright so I stuck around a while." He explained, his deep voice soothing me a bit, even though this was the dude who tried to kill me.

"Hmm..." I continued to stare at his features, taking in what he was saying. I was about to ask why, with the whole deal yesterday, but he began talking again.

"Then I saw you doing this...I know what its like...trust me. Just...don't" He seemed really hurt.

"Why did you stop me...you tried to kill me." He looked at me a bit hurt. Did he think I'd let that slide by? Did he think I didn't know it was him?

"Honestly," he straightened his back, letting go of my arm, his stare hardened on me a bit, "I followed you to try and kill you again. Case you were off to spill to someone, but then those girls..." He looked off to the side like he was reliving something. "I don't know, I just...I've been through that bullshit before. Didn't end too well for me."

                I nod. Sure, It was a bit scary having this man in my house, but what was he gonna do? Kill me? Wow, big deal. I decided to finally ask.

"Who are you anyways?"

"My name is Jeff."