Jack was feeling uneasy, like he was going to throw up. He forced himself to get out of the warmth of his bed and go to the bathroom. As he was walking, it felt like he had been stabbed in the chest. He began feeling light-headed and dizzy. The hall grew longer, making it feel impossible to get to the bathroom. Jack tried focusing on his feet, like he was on a tightrope. One foot after the other, left foot, right foot. He had his hands grazing the wall. He was reaching for the doorknob to the bathroom.
Jack however, did not feel the coolness of the knob. Instead, he felt a thick goop. He looked up to see it was blood. He quickly stepped back. In blood, it said the words,
Hello Sean. Did you forget about Me?
Jack was stunned. He had about a million questions in his head. Who's blood? Who did this? Was it Mark? Isn't he dead?
Jack had no idea what to do. But, it just so happened, that an eyelash fell into his eye. He furiously rubbed his eye to get it out. Fucking eye! Not now! He thought.
He finally got it out when he looked up. He was even more shocked to discover that the writing was gone. Vanished. Disappeared. What the fuck was happening to him. Was he becoming insane? I mean, come on. He had just saw blood. Blood! On the wall! And it was gone within a moments notice.
-Jaycee POV--
I looked it up. Schizophrenic. Jack is schizophrenic. I mean, here's a list of symptoms that he has. Well, that I know of, but what could have he done without telling me? We aren't exactly on speaking terms right now.
*He sees and hears things that aren't there
*He has inappropriate and bizarre behaivior
*He has trouble focusing on things I'm saying unless it involves Mark or self-harm and suicide
*He can never seem to think straight
*He has terrible anxiety from time to time
*He can get agitated very easily
*He believes some thoughts aren't his, but Mark's
I don't know. I mean, I'm definitely not going to talk to him about it. Should I?
--***--
Jack had no idea what to do. He just ran. He ran out of his house and into the street. As he was running, a car sped past him. He had a thought. What if I jumped out in front of that car? It was then that Jack knew that that thought wasn't his own. It wasn't said in his voice. He knew it wasn't something he'd say, even if he did want to.
Jack knew he needed help. He knew there was something wrong. He had a feeling he always knew. He decided, seeing as PAX South was in less than two months, he'd go in after he returned.
He realized something at this time. Mark had killed himself on the end of the last day at this convention. In less that two months, Mark would have been dead for a year. A whole year without Mark. If he had been feeling this bad in less than a year, how could he do two years? Three? Four? Jack had a feeling. He couldn't. There was no way. Mark was his everything. That's why he couldn't live without him. You can't live with nothing. If you are, you're just an empty shell.
YOU ARE READING
Try. {Jacksepticeye}
Fanfiction*Warning, read with caution if you are triggered by, suicide, death, depression, ect.* After the death of his closest friend Mark, Jack is now trying to recover. But it's not as easy as one might think.
