Other side of paradise (Jason Dean x reader)

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐱

JD set the ladder down under your window, and began climbing.  This wasn't the first time he was breaking in, and he was your boyfriend now, so he assumed that you wouldn't mind.  As he ascended, he couldn't shake this feeling that something was wrong.  He ignored this feeling, it wasn't anything new.

He opened your window and slipped inside, and damn near fell to his knees.  You were hanging in a noose, your eyes closed, not breathing.  You were dead.  There was a note in your hand, and he hesitantly walked over and pried it from your cold dead hand.  He opened it up, and choked back a sob at what was written.

'Everyone I love is dying.  Life sucks.'

"I can't believe you did this," JD muttered.  "I was only teasing Veronica with the doll!  I loved you!  I even wrote you a poem, and made a petition for you.  If only you were able to hear what my fellow students really signed..."

He took a deep breath, and pulled out the petition.  He grabbed the letter he wrote for you, along with the front page that explained what the petition was.  He was going to read it to you, even though you were just a corpse dangling in the air like an ornament on a Christmas tree.  I mean, what else was there for him to do?

"'To (y/n),'" he began.  "'I was meant to be yours, and we were made to be one.  And I knew from the first time I looked at you, I had fallen like a bullet from a gun.'  I know it's short, but I was never one for writing... I know you would've liked it anyway..."

He gently held the first page up to his eyes, preparing to read it to you.  He was on the verge of tears.  God, he hadn't cried since his mom's funeral.  You had a large effect on him... how was he going to live without you?

"And now for the petition," he started.  "'We the students of Westerberg high will die today.  Our burning bodies will be the ultimate protest to a society that degrades us.  Fuck you all!'  It's not very subtle, but neither is blowing up a whole school, now is it?  When our school blows up tomorrow, it's gonna be the thing to infect a generation!  Like a Woodstock for the '80s!"

He looked up at your body.  You still weren't breathing.  Your eyes were still closed.  You were still dead.  You weren't happy, you weren't giggling, you weren't congratulating him for such a good idea, you weren't giving him that beautiful, wonderful smile... you weren't alive.

"Damn it (y/n), we could've roasted marshmallows together," JD shouted.

Downstairs, your mother was plating some spaghetti with lot's of oregano.  She had made your favorite dinner a few days ago, so now it was Veronica's turn before it was even more pate.  Your father was already sitting down, re-reading the same spy novel.

"Kids, dinner time," she called.

After a few minutes, she began to tap her foot impatiently, and looked at your dad, who still wasn't paying any attention to her, or the spaghetti that was getting colder and colder every passing second.

"What are they waiting for, a written invitation," she questioned.  "KIDS, DINNER!!"

"Shit," JD cursed.

He hastily started grabbing the papers from the petition, and in his hurry, the gun slipped out of his coat pocket, and landed on the bed.  He didn't notice.  He clambered out the window and scrambled to get the ladder down, and he managed to make a quick getaway.  And he was out just in time to be out of sight for when your mom walked in.

"Oh..." she muttered.  "I should've let you keep contact with your mother... and I should've let you take that job at the mall... I was just worried-"

Before she could finish, your head snapped up, and your eyes opened, wide like a kid on Christmas (lot of Christmas similes...).  And the closet doors popped open, and Veronica practically fell out.

"Hey mom," you greeted.

"Hi... like our joke," Veronica asked.

"IT WAS NOT FUNNY.  You two..."

Your mother stormed off, not even reminding you about dinner.  Veronica stumbled over, wrapped up in old sheets and sweatshirts from hiding in the wardrobe.  When she finally reached you, she lifted your shirt a little, and untied the 'rope' that was wrapped around your waist.  She had wound up your sheet, tied it around your waist, then around your neck to look like a lethal noose.  That way you were able to hang there, but not get hurt.  Then she just forged a note based upon her nightmare.

"He's going to blow up the school..." you muttered.

"No, he's going to kill everyone inside.  The school just happens to be like a fishbowl for everyone swimming around inside."

"Same fucking difference!"

She finished untying you, and you fell and landed on your bed, hitting your head on something hard.  You groaned and rubbed your head, grabbing whatever you collided with.  Then you pulled out the hand cannon of a gun.

True to his word, on the other side of town, JD was toiling away at the desk in his room.  He was doing what he and his father did best.  Casually assembling some detonators to go with sticks of dynamite.  

"Hey pops, I need some help with my homework," Bud said from the other side of the door.

"Not right now tiger, I'm a little busy," JD replied.

He went back to his work, and was prepared before the clock hit 2 a.m..  Today was going to be one to remember.  While he never wanted to do this alone, he would if he must.  He was still your hero, you just so happened to not be able to see anymore.  But it'd be selfish to give up on his mission now.

A/n: who's nicer, Martha, or Ryan Reynolds?!

Also, preparing to do a Scream fic, but if I can pull off what I'm hoping to, it'll be my god damn magnum opus. So I'm excited, and terrified.