Kidnapped by Him (A Jacksepticeye Fan-fiction)

{Chapter 32 - It's a Need Not a Want}

-=Mark's Point of View=-

I fell to my knees after the screech of motorcycle wheels pierced my ears. The pebbles of the pavement dug into my kneecaps, causing marks to form. I refused to let myself cry and make myself feel vulnerable or weak. My dignity and values were already severed. I cannot let myself become even lower than I already am.

I rubbed my eyes and rose to my feet with my legs wobbling from the stop of the adrenaline rush. My mind told me to let her go since I've frightened her away and made her think I'm a monster. A monster that pops out every once in awhile to feed on it's prey. My heart is telling me a whole different statement. It's yelling to go after her and stop Addison from leaving with Jack. Feelings are present and it's burning away at my chest. At this rate I don't think I'll be able to breath.

I took myself back inside to my apartment. I have had enough of my self pity. My legs felt heavy as I walked. It felt as if shackles and weights were holding me down. When I emerged into the bathroom, I glanced at myself in the mirror. I didn't even know who it was looking back at me.

Dark circles lined the bottom of my chocolate brown eyes. I didn't see my usual bright and joyful eyes. The look in my eyes were so lonesome. The glint they had that revealed a world of darkness and even though I would try my hardest to hide it with a fake smile, my eyes revealed it all. I couldn't look at myself without the self pity becoming more intense and difficult the fight off.

I realized I needed to record so I stepped out of the bathroom and into the recording room. I flicked the light switch on and glanced at the recording room. Everything happened here for the channel. A medium sized dark wooden desk sat on the far wall. It was covered with computer and recording software along with occasional empty coffee cup from late night editing. A black couch was placed on the other wall incase I had some people to record with. A camera was set up as if others were here to record with myself. Fantastic fanart was hung around the room, bringing color and creativity to the once boring and uninteresting room. The sound-proof foam kept my voice from traveling out and other noises from coming in. I sat down in my leather computer chair, feeling the leather squeak under my lower body.

I started my introduction. "Hi everybody,
my name is Markiplier! And today we will be playing the dreaded Mario Maker." I put on the best smile I could manage to make. As I recorded I felt a little better but still down in the dumps.

After, I checked the recording to see if it looked believable. I sighed in defeat when I noticed how fake I appeared. Surely some fans would notice and start becoming worried. I didn't want to think of an excuse to get out of the situation.

My hands formed two tight fists. I slammed both of them on the desk, causing a loud noise to bounce off the sound-proof foam hanging on the white colored walls.

I need to see her again.

It's not a want, it's a need.

I let the floodgates open. Negative thoughts flooded into my mind with force. I completely overreacted and pushed Addison right into Jack's arms. I don't believe he's changed for the better and is still spiraling downhill. I have a strange feeling she's going to get hurt or abused by him again and I caused that. Guilt was another emotion I was feeling. Too much was on my mind at this moment in time. I decided to scrap the gameplay I just started recording.

I pulled up an emergency video to post instead of recording a new one. I set the video to upload so I could relax and think about things. I scooted out of chair and walked to the master bedroom. My apartment was so quiet since no one was here. I didn't prepare dinner since I wasn't hungry. My stomach growled but I didn't feel hungry.

As I walked into my room, all I thought about was going to sleep. I slipped off my clothing and into pajamas. The warmth of my soft, flannel pants comforted me in this troubling time. In climbed into bed and whipped the blankets around me.

The smell of Addison was still present in the sheets. I lightly sniffed the side of the bed she was laying in. Apparently I'm the biggest creep at the moment. I snuggled into bed to try to comfort myself from her absence. Her scent engulfed me in a peaceful state. I looked at the clock to read the time.

10:56pm.

Many minutes past from the last time I glanced at the clock. Time moved swiftly on it's way while I laid in my own despair and shame. I regret every word that spilled from my mouth. I stuffed my head under the pillow. My eyes couldn't see anything while the darkness from under the pillow surrounded my aching head. My brain felt like it was going to emerge from my pounding head. The red hairdo would be messed up by the time morning comes.

I decided to look at the time to see how much sleep I would be receiving this gloomy night. I lifted the pillow from my vision and shifted to adjust to the direction of the clock.

12:43am.

I groaned in annoyance and sat up. My hands met the soft sheets and I rose to look around. I had an idea of what would help me fall asleep and get over the pain that was destroying my thought process.

The next thing I knew I was in the kitchen, opening the liquor cabinet with my shaky hands. I pulled the door open to reveal my scapegoat. Without thinking, I grabbed a bottle of clear vodka. I didn't bother to grab a glass since I didn't have the patience.

I need relief now.

The top of the bottle flew off and onto the light tiled kitchen floor. My other hand lifted the translucent bottle from hell to my lips. The cold tip of the bottle made my lips feel chilled. The liquid ran into my mouth and onto my tongue. The taste was god awful, but would get better the more I drank. I automatically gulped it down and into my stomach. Something about this was therapeutic. It might be the fact in literally drinking my sorrows away. This should turn into a regular event. The more I drank the liquor, the more I could feel myself becoming carefree and problem-less.

The more that went down, the more I felt numb.

The voice in my head told me to keep going.

I drank.

And I drank.

Until I passed out.

Ahh, relief.

•••
A/N:

JUST AN FYI I DO NOT CONDONE BINGE DRINKING OR DRINKING UNDER AGE. HONESTLY JUST DON'T. THIS IS A STORY, NO REAL LIFE.

Sorry, shorter chapter. I have exams in a week and a half so updates might be a little shorter but not by much. I apologize and hope you understand!

I know Mark can't drink but in this story he doesn't know yet. You'll see how it plays out.

Aw sad Markimoo makes me so sad actually. Well, it's his fault *shrugs* (or mine cause I wrote it).

Hope you all have a great day / night!
-S