Try. {Jacksepticeye}

Try {5}

//trigger warning\\

Jack had just bolted home from the funeral . Tears filled his eyes as he ran into the bathroom and locked the door. He stared at himself in the mirror. He saw a man, in a tuxedo, with green hair. He washed his face and looked at the mirror again.

But this time, he saw a man, but it was not him. This man had glasses, big brown eyes, and red hair. It was Mark, reaching out towards him.

"Why didn't you stop me?" Mark seemed to say, reaching out to him. "Do you not care?"

Jack was hurt by these words, even though he knew they weren't real.

Jack washed his face again, and looked at the mirror once more. Mark was gone. Jack didn't know what to do. He went into the cabinet and grabbed a razor blade.

He looked at his left wrist as the blade cut his skin. Tears filled his eyes and splattered onto his arm. It hurt, but it felt good. It felt like Mark was getting his revenge. Jack looked at his torn skin and smiled. He decided to do it a few more times. By the time he was done, he had twelve open cuts. He heard footsteps approaching. 

"Jack?" He heard Jaycee call out.

He quickly put the razor in his pocket, rolled down his sleeve, and unlocked the door.

"Jesus Christ," Jay said, hugging him.

He squirmed out of her grasp and went to the bedroom. He turned the lights off and threw himself underneath the covers.

"Jack..?"

Jaycee walked into the bedroom.

"Jack," She said, softly.

She heard nothing but quiet sobbing. She decided to leave him be.

//end trigger warning\\

~Time Skip~

A couple of hours later, it was time for dinner. Jack had changed into his Markiplier t-shirt and jeans, but then went back into his abyss of darkness.

"Jack?" Jaycee said softly, entering the bedroom. "Please, come eat. One potato and I'll leave you alone." She pulled the covers off his face and shot him the same convincing look that she did in the diner.

"Fine," Jack mumbled quietly. He ran to the kitchen, keeping his left arm tightly to his side.

Jaycee noticed something was up, but she figured that he had just been laying on it, and it was asleep. She knew that Jack's eating behavior, when it came to potatoes, was, he cut it with a fork and a knife, and then eat it.

She began to worry when he cut it in half, using only his right hand, and a fork.

"Jack?" She said, walking towards him.

"What?" He said.

"Oh, nothing," She said, now standing by his left side. "It's just," She said, pulling his left arm away from his body.

She looked at the cuts on his wrist and started to cry. "Jack!"

"Jaycee," He said, "It's ok."

"Sean! It is not okay!" She yelled. "You need to stop!"

"I can't!" He yelled back at her.

"Try!" She yelled. Storming out.

Jack watched as her car drove out of the driveway and into the street. He couldn't help but cry.