Crush • Markson • COMPLETED

Chapter Twenty Four

Mark's heart was beating rapidly in his chest. His breathing becoming shallow.
"Here we go again," he whispered out into the quiet and dark room.

His tears never seemed to stop flooding. His breathing never seemed to go back to normal. His cries and whimpers were almost pointless. No one was there- not even Jackson who was always there next to Mark- comforting him as he cried or had a panic attack.

Mark's mother wasn't home that afternoon, after all she did have responsibilities other than taking care of Mark. She had groceries to buy, bills to pay, errands to run, relatives to visit. Responsibilities that's what she had. Most of which did not consist of her son.

Mark shivered from the cold air that hit his bare back when he exited the dimly light bathroom.

Mark knew, he knew he had promised Jackson he would not hurt himself ever again but he also knew that not all promises can be kept. Especially this certain promise.
His mother even told him, numerous time "don't make promises you can't keep. You'll feel horrible if you do."
And Mark's mother had made several promises she couldn't keep. Like telling her traumatized six year old son that she'd leave her abusive husband and they'd live happily ever after.
Only, "happily ever after" only ever existed in fairytales and cliché movies, right?

Mark felt out of place around his step-father. He never felt like he was accepted  as his true self.  But, of course he wasn't accepted by his step-father because he wanted nothing  to do with homosexuals. He found them despising, disgusting, retarded, unhuman.

Mark thought of the first time he ever met him. Mark got a bad vibe from him but his mother- god she seemed so in love. Or maybe he somehow reminded her of Mark's father. Though, Mark saw no similarities in the two.

After all, Mark's father was loving and kind. And this man his mother had met one day at a Café, he was...well, rather rough looking. He looked like he hadn't shaved in weeks maybe even months, he always smelt of alcohol and cigarettes and Mark hated those smells.

He wore his mother down, always bossing her around. Yelling at her every time she even made the slightest of eye contact with him. Screaming at the top of his lungs for her being clumsy. Calling her names like whore, unworthy bitch, stupid, idiotic, worthless. 

They were both traumatized, asking themselves every time they wanted or had to go out and he was home "is it safe?"

Mark couldn't stick up for him nor his mother. Because he was afraid. Afraid he might do the unbelievable while he was locked away in his room, shaking and crying, wishing his father were there to sweep them up in his arms with a laugh and warm smile.

Mark hardly remember his real father since he had died when he was three in a car accident. But he knew he was tons better than the man who nearly killed the two of them every time he'd get angry.

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Welp this chapter is. . . .yeah. Don't kill me, I know I'm a horrible person ;-;

Hate me all you want.

And you might be asking (you probably aren't though) "Hannah, why is Big Bang up there?"

Hmm

Whaleeeeeeeeeeeeeeee lemme tell ya wHy 

I felt like the song fit this chapter sU I had to add it.

Also I know my updating sucks ;-;, again, I'm a horrible person.

ANYWAYS, before I ramble even more and make this longer than it needs to be,

I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter even though it's- yeah.

(Don't kill meh plz)

bAI~