Diary entry 9: Jackson
I don't know why I got so angry... I hate emotions... but I think I've only worsened the entire situation.
I'm sick of feeling guilty though.
I'm watching him kill himself. I don't want to have to be guilty of his own problems.
Its harsh, but I can't live like that anymore. It's been a few weeks, and a few weeks of stress and crying.
I hate it. I hate this life. I hate this stupid company. It hurts to say it ... but I hate him for doing this to me.
I hate him... but I can't ignore him...
But above all, I hate myself for letting me get to this stage.
- Jackson
Mark had turned on his heels and left the dorm, tears streaking onto his shirt and dripping from his lashes to the floor. I'm such a fucking idiot. I fucking disappointed the only person who loved me. I bet he didn't even love me. I'm such a fool.
He stood out on the street, cool evening wind caressing his face icily, his cheeks hollow and lifeless. His tears clung to his lashes as he blinked, releasing them. They stung his cheekbones in the cold wind, but Mark didn't care. He was wearing the same grey hoodie with the red bloodstains on the sleeve. It smelled like Jackson, since Jackson had worn it the previous night. It made him both happy and sad. He ended up sitting in a ball, knees to his face, in the corner of a park. It was a few minutes from home, but had no lights and nobody seemed to be there. Alone... again.
Why did I fuck up again?!
Should I keep trying or just give up?
Mark's tears continued to slide off his lashes while he thought.
I've been trying for years and it hasn't gotten me anywhere.
His nose was turning pink from the frosty air.
Why don't I just give up?
It sounded so appealing... so alluring...
Why don't I just give up?
Why not?
He instantly decided on where he was going.
He left the pharmacy, squeezing a bottle tightly in his hands. He didn't want to go back to the dorm until tomorrow morning, so he lay himself on a park bench, the same park as before. He took off his shoes and laid them on the floor, resting his head on the wood. He didn't have his phone, and had no communication with the group. This calmed him- knowing he wouldn't be disturbed and questioned.
Soon after, his eyes drooped and he slept calmly, without crying, for the first time in years.
He was woken by a stranger in exercise clothes. She smiled at him as he opened his eyes. I must look homeless... crap.
"H-hello? I was running past and saw you were asleep, so I woke you in case you weren't meant to be here," She smiled sweetly.
He blushed. "Oh- t-thank you... I must've fallen asleep last night... thank you!" He stood up instantly, bowing.
"It's alright," She handed him his shoes. "Do you know where you're going? Would you like me to accompany you?"
He looked at her, wide-eyed. No- she'll know I'm a trainee! "Y-yes! I'm going- going this way- thank you very much!" Mark hurriedly put on his shoes and bowed again, turning away and walking back toward the dorm.
YOU ARE READING
Broken Crayons Still Color [Rated SPG]
Jugendliteratur"There may be stars in the sky, wind in the atmosphere, and sun in the clouds. But without you, we do not want them. So don't you ever dare be selfish enough to believe that you aren't important to us." Mark has an eating disorder. Jackson has his s...