[ JacksepticeyeXReaderXMarkiplier ] ➳ Awake

Chapter 14

(Y/N) liked the wind.

Alot.

In fact she loved it.

She wondered with the last times she'd felt the wind if she loved it this much too. It felt like it could hold her, and whisk her away with its very breath. The wind felt like a blanket, it felt like home.

She closed her eyes.

She had no home.

(Y/N) saw the sun setting, her lower half of her body was already fading already at the same rate. It was as if the sun was disappearing along with her. She didn't mind going anymore.

She only hurt everyone.

She hurt Mark, she hurt Sean, she hurt her family. She could never stop hurting everyone. It was inevitable, and she knew that.

(Y/N) breathed, although her chest would never rise, and she would never really breathe. She was dead, she knew, but she had never been more alive. She had never felt more alive than she was at that very moment, her eyes locked on the dying sun as she stood there, letting the wind blow her hair in all directions. To her ears, her eyes, her arms, her mouth. She let the wind breathe her away.

(Y/N) wondered that if she was alive, would she have married Mark?

She didn't know if she would hurt him again. She didn't know if she hurt Mark and Sean back then. She probably did, she probably destroyed them, but she forgot. She always forgot.

There were tears in her eyes. But the wind wiped her tears dry.

Why did she have to forget?

Let me remember.

(Y/N) closed her eyes, remembering her fingers intertwined with Mark's. His skin. His heat. His warmth.

Mark.

She loved that name.

Mark.

(Y/N) wondered if it was normal. Did everyone else say the names of the people they loved like they were oxygen? Did the names of the people they loved always taste this bitter sweet? Did the names of the people they loved leave them breathless with every letter, and with every time they said it, a whole new experience?

Was it just her?

"Mark." She whispered into the loud howling wind, asking for acceptance. Was she allowed to look at Mark like that? Did being dead really matter? Couldn't she love?

Why didn't she love Sean?

Was it because he was always the one who cared too much? Was it because she liked men who didn't care? Was it because Mark loved her more? Who was she to know?

She walked up in front her and placed her hands, her fingers, on the very edge. She looked around at the buildings, the sun setting, and her fingers on the cement that was to the height of her chest seemed nearly comforting. Nearly.

Everything felt still.

She couldn't stand it.

The thoughts in her mind, the different whispers of her life that she could never grasp before they died away in her head, the endless hole she felt. She wished everything was so simple. She wish she knew how she could breathe again.

Never again. Would she breathe.

(Y/N) accepted it.

"(Y/N)?" She heard someone say, a small whisper like sound behind her. The wind, her friend, told her to ignore it, because she should never turn back.