99 Steps

Step 7: Forgive

One of the biggest problems Jack had was forgiving. Not other people, bu himself. Jack could never figure out how to forgive himself for getting into drugs, for hurting himself, for pushing people who tried to help away. Jack couldn't forgive himself for letting Zoey go out to the party with him, when they both knew she couldn't drink alcohol.

Zoey was one of the people that tried to help Jack, but then her life turned to shit too, so together they ruined their lives. They weren't dating, just close friends. But Jack really cared about her, more than he cared about himself at that point - which wasn't very much, but to a hopeless teen who didn't see point in living anymore, it was a whole lot of caring.

She was pretty, with long, thin brown and black hair and rare green eyes. She always wore black, and always looked bad-ass even if she just rolled out of bed. 

They hung out, they did drugs in Jack's bedroom, they stole from stores together, they went to parties together. They did everything together. Until Jack realized that his family hated him, and that the world would be a better place without him in it. They did everything together, until Jack got depressed. 

Zoey tried to help, even if she was dragging Jack down closer and closer to death without realizing it. She told Jack that he just needed a good party, and then she knew where one was. They went, and there was people, and drugs, and music, and alcohol. Jack knew that Zoey could die if she drank too much, but that didn't stop them. They danced and shot up, with needles and shots. Jack knew it was bad, but he didn't stop it. 

They managed to make it back to Jack's house that night, but they were too drunk to remember anything. Jack didn't remember Zoey holding her throat as she laughed, but she was taking her last breaths. Zoey was dying. 

Jack was too high. Jack was too drunk. Jack was too stupid.

That's what he told himself when he woke up and found her slumped against the wall. He stopped going to parties, and he stopped going out. He stopped talking to people, and he stopped getting out of bed. The only time he would was to take more drugs to fall asleep. 

Jack could never forgive himself for that. But Mark told him he would have to, because sometimes bad shit happens. And sometimes there is nothing you can do about it. Mark said it would be a hard thing to let go of, but Jack tried to. Because Jack cared about Mark, probably more than he should. Jack cared about Mark more than he cared about himself, but that was a lot now. To anyone. Because Jack started to care about himself more. Jack told Mark to get rid of most of his stuff, and he did. Jack started to eat more, and shower more, Jack updated his journal more. It wasn't sad depressing things about how he wanted to die, along with sketches of the tattoos he wanted, just so everyone could see he wanted to die. No, it was like depressing lyrics with happy sounding music. It was still depressing, but it had a hopeful undertone.

Now, Jack was happy. Almost.

He still wanted to die, but that was only on bad nights. He still wanted to have someone hold him, but that was when he didn't want anyone near him. He still hated Mark, but that was when he would wake up to see Mark's flash go off, taking pictures of him. He still wanted Mark to love him, but he didn't have to worry about that. Because today was their third date. Mark was spending a bunch of money on Jack, and Jack didn't want him to, but Mark said he had no choice. 

"You look amazing with blonde hair." Mark looked over from the chair he was sitting in, with mess of blonde hair on his head too. Jack smiled, which was something he did a lot more now. He laughed too.

"I guess you don't look so bad." Jack said, his voice small and quiet like it was the day they first met, nearly two months ago now.

"You want green, right?" The nice lady asked, grabbing the box. Jack nodded, and looked over at Mark, who was smiling and watching him.

"What?" Jack could feel his face start to burn. He looked down when Mark didn't answer.

"Purple?" Jack asked, the two boys standing in front of a mirror with their freshly colored hair. 

"And blue. She called it galaxy hair." Jack smiled at Mark in the reflection. "Home next?" Jack asked, turning to face the slightly taller man behind him. Mark shook his head, "You brought your notebook, right?" Jack nodded, slightly confused.

"And you said the sketches in there are of tattoos you want?" Mark smiled at the realization in the others' eyes.

"No, you're not." Jack ran a hand through his hair, feeling lightheaded suddenly.

"I won't if you don't want to, but you said you did. You said that you wanted to hold this part of your life with you to always remind you how far you've come." Mark's smile dropped when Jack had to grab the counter for support. "Are you alright, if you changed your mind we don't have to." He grabbed his shoulder, trying to look him in the eye.

"No, I want to, it's just. I never thought I'd be able to do it. You know?" Jack smiled up at Mark, who led them to the car after paying. 

I used to say I want to die before I'm old, but because of you I might think twice.

Jack sang along to the music playing though the speakers, which also changed. When they first met, Jack really only liked heavy metal songs that sang about demons, death, and burning in hell. Now he liked songs, still about depression, but also about recovery from depression. 

Mark liked it, because now when they were in the car, Jack would sing little bits, almost like he directed them towards Mark.

They pulled in, and Jack looked at the sketches again, which he added to. He drew a rose, with Zoey's name around the thorns. She wasn't a bad person, she just made bad choices. Like Jack.

"Do you think these are even good enough to get tattooed on my arm?" Jack's voice was shaky.

"Are you kidding?" Mark pointed to the pile of papers on Jack's lap. "I would have you draw my tattoo. Hell, I would have you give me my tattoo." 

Jack smiled, looking at the rest of them. He even drew a crow with a crown, which was his personal favorite. It was one he did when he couldn't sleep well for almost a week, and he felt like he was going to go insane. He thought it represented how something so beautiful could come from something so messed up.

Over the next few days, they kept going back to get nearly a full sleeve of tattoos on Jack's arm. He liked it, the guy who worked on them even said it was 'fucking sick', which Jack didn't understand. But he assumed it was a complement.

Just as a finishing touch, he got the word 'Forgiven' and 'Remembered' on his wrist in a small circle. He didn't like the idea of someone seeing his scars, scared that he would say something. He didn't, instead, he just smiled at Jack and said "I don't know you, but I'm proud. Stay safe, alright?" Jack nodded, and thanked the man for giving him his tattoos, and walked out to show Mark. 

Mark, however, was not expecting someone like Jack to look so damn good with tattoos but he did. 

"Look." Jack smiled, proud of himself as he showed Mark the words across his scars, which was already itching. 

"I love it!" Mark pulled Jack into a hug, kissing him on the cheek, which almost made Jack forget how to breath. Almost.