Hold You Like I'm Going To Lose You (Septiplier)

Somehow 'Strong' Means Me Too

Warnings for bullying, mental abuse, and Jack being a fucking dick.

Sorry, I just got a bit mad.

Jack started after him.

Wade quickly grabbed at his shoulder, spinning him around. "Hey, hey, it's ok. We'll all go and find him, come on. He couldn't have gone very far."

Jack stared up at Wade, before sighing shakily and giving a nod.

Mark collapsed next to a tree.

He had realized awhile back that this park had a largely wooded area, to the point that Mark was pretty much lost.

He was used to racism by then, he had heard it all in school and sometimes when he left the comfort of his home he'd hear racist comments and jokes here and there.

He hadn't heard the word faggot in a long, long time.

It made him want to throw up.

So he did.

Mark's hand pressed against the tree next to him as he puked, barely able to keep him up on his other hand and knees. Sobs rolled through his chest as he shook.

He wanted to bleed again...

----

Mark's smile faded.

For a moment, he didn't understand what was happening, as one of the kids from his 4th period caged him against the wall.

"W-What's- I thought you guys... wanted to hang out?" Mark asked, voice quiet and confused.

"Like we'd ever hang out with you. No, I wanted to talk to you about how you keep looking at my friend here."

Mark glanced behind the boy pressing him into the wall to see his crush.

For a moment, cold gripped at Mark's core, him giving a sharp, dry swallow.

The blonde boy looked up, blue eyes sharp.

Suddenly a hand was grabbing at his throat, squeezing the air and pinching his windpipe.

Mark choked, hands going up to claw the hand away from him. Pained tears started in his eyes as he tried desperately to get him off.

"Listen here, faggot. If I ever catch you looking at him like that again, I'll tie you up and let you die slowly in the basement of the school."

Mark gave a whine, vision blurring and tunneling, before suddenly the hand was off him.

Mark fell to his hands and knees, trying desperately to get air into his lungs.

Mark heard them leave, sobbing as he curled into himself.

"I-I'm sorry..."

Mark quickly scrambled to his feet and rushed home, ignoring his mom and dad as he rushed up to his room to drop off his stuff.

Mark stared at the mirror across from him, before he rushed into his bathroom, grabbing one of the razors his mother kept in there and cracking it open to get to one of the blades.

It took a long time before he finally pressed it against his unmarked arm.

Mark stared for the longest time, before giving a swift movement of his hand.

Blood immediately started to prick up, dripping lazily from the cut.

"... I-I... I'm sor-rry..."

----

Mark felt someone's arms wrap around him and help him to his feet.

"Jesus, Mark... Are you ok?"