𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐫, 𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐫 | 𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

16. between a rock and a hard place.

S I X T E E N
between a rock and a hard place.

*to those who follow me, you would've seen my question about whether anyone would be interested in a h.s. ff, i added the description (work in progress, obviously) to the very bottom, so please tell me what you think if you're interested in exchange for a cookie <3

With the overgrown grass and mangled squawking of birds, I imagine I'm in Jurassic Park, and not Mrs Crain's back garden.

The weather is as it was millions of years ago, hot and wet to create lush plant growth and help dinosaurs flourish. The birds are pterodactyl and not crows I fear will swoop me, the rustling in the grass isn't JJ being clumsy, it's actually a Triceratops ambling lazily. Looking all intimidating and then eating a flower.

The noises of people talking are actually distant, epic fights of carnivorous dinosaurs fighting over a dead carcass—that died of old age peacefully with friends and family around them, obviously.

The stone ornaments and swings are...actually, I have nothing they could be. My immersion is destroyed.

"Mabel! You in there?" JJ looks at me, both concerned and amused.

I hum at him, way too into my Jurassic Park narrative.

"You looked spacey, I asked if you've seen anything?" He asks.

I shake my head, "Nope. Nothing. No wheat, no water, no stacks of gold conveniently set up for us. A whole lot of nothing."

The hot sun that rests high in the sky beats down on my poor, pale skin. I'm never outside this much, my body's in shock. It has no clue what to do with Vitamin D, it's never even seen it.

"Are you okay?" He asks.

"Why wouldn't I be okay?" I tip my head to the side, my mind millions of years away.

He looks my face over, "A lot's been happening. I just don't want you..." He trails off.

"Killing myself?"

"I mean, yeah, I wasn't going to go that far. But I guess that's what I was getting at," he nods.

"What were you going to say?" I smile.

"I don't know, maybe being sad?" He struggles.

"Which just circles back to my original point. Don't fret, pal. I'm on a bunch of antidepressants so that exact thing doesn't happen. As long as I pop those bad boys every day I'm happy as Larry," I exaggerate.

He looks awkward, obviously not the type of person who gets nitty gritty with his feelings. JJ didn't grow up with therapists, or get forced to see psychiatrists, he just soldiered through. "You know you could, like..." He trails off once more.

"Talk to you?" I finish off his sentence.

One of his large, ringed hands lifts and scratches the back of his neck—whether that's due to an awkward tic, or a mosquito bite will never be known. "Yeah, I'd listen," He agrees.

I don't know what to say. How am I supposed to answer that?

"Well, I would need to warn you even professionals decide they're 'not the right fit' for me. Mainly because I shout at them for asking questions, which is kind of the point, but I digress."

"You can shout at me, it's hot," He smirks.

"Now I'd rather kill myself," I give him a disgusted glare.

"That is not funny, you cannot kill yourself, Mabel." He shakes his head at my antics.

"Well, keep forcing pills upon me and I won't. Shit gets dicey without them, buddy," I tap his shoulder and keep walking.