Drowning in a River of Denial (Jalex)

I Got Troubled Thoughts

Hey!
So this chapter was longer than the past two. I'm sorry that they're all such short chapters. I spent a while writing it and it's not that good but whatever ehh... 

Enjoy! xx

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Alex

I'd missed Jack more than I thought I could ever miss a person to be completely honest. I thought about him more than I'd liked to admit. Despite the originally sour feelings towards him once I'd seen him Monday morning, I really did love seeing him again. 

Jack hadn't changed much since I'd last seen him, though. He was still tall as fuck, messy haired, funny and just plain kind. We'd spent a week rekindling our friendship, learning more about eachother. We'd discussed our mutual love for bands, too. 

Another thing; he hadn't shown up to school on Friday, which worried me considering him telling me just the day before that "any oportunity to get out of the house, I take," I was considering sprinting to his house and knocking his door down just to see if he was okay. 

>Jack, why aren't you at school?<

I texted him once lunch came around. I had to admit, I felt out of place sitting with Jack's friends without him being here. I was jittery, my knees jumping up and down nervously whilst I awaited Jack's text. 

Being a pretty negative person alot of the time, I assumed the worst. What if his father had finally taken it too far? What if he'd really lost control this time and killed him? I shuddered at the thought and tried to push it aside to no avail as it still lingered in my mind.

"Alex? Buddy?" Zack mumbled quietly, trying to get my attention.

"Hm?" I hummed, clearly out of it.

"You worried about Jack?" He murmured. I considered lying but honestly, was there a point? They were probably worried too... Maybe. I nodded my head and Zack sighed.

"Jack barely ever stays home or skips," Zack started. Was that supposed to make me feel better? Because if anything, my worries increased. "But it's usually when his Mum goes out of town. He never really explained, but when he comes back he's all strange and distant, and no one can go near him. It's strange, really. He flinches when one of us touches him or gets too close. But after a few days he's fine," He added the last part hastily, probably remembering he was meant to be making me feel better. I sat there, my mouth ajar. 

"Fuck, shit," I muttered. "Thanks for telling me. I'm going to go check up on him," I half heartedly smiled, abruptly stood up, rather clumsily jumping off the metal seat and slinging my bag over my shoulder. 

I remembered where Jack lived from all those years ago. I remembered it because of the shitty, old playground near his house. It was one of those parks you'd feel sorry for because it was so lonely, so unused. 

The light pitter-patter of rain lightly dampened my clothes and hair, little droplets falling from my fringe. I fastened my stride, stepping onto Jack's street. No old beaten up car sat in the driveway and I assumed it was safe to be there. I scrowled at the house, hating all the memories that invaded my head just by looking at it. It truly looked like a normal house you'd see in any suburb. Sure, it was a little... Battered? But it made it look homey. But it really wasn't homey at all. If you were Jack, I'm sure it'd feel like a house, not a home. It was the place where he'd been completely broken, he'd admitted to me on Monday. 

I sighed in relief despite the reason I was here in the first place, happy that I'd been shielded from the wet weather and grey skies. Hesitantly, I knocked the large wooden door, stepping back and fiddling idly with the sleeves of my blue hoodie. My impatience and nerves got the best of me when the door hadn't been opened. I was sure I heard something from within the house. I knocked once again, this time more rough and frantic. After some shuffling from inside, the door creaked open a small amount, just enough for someone to peak through.