~ S A V E M E ~ A Sad Septiplier Story ~

~ E X P L A I N A T I O N ~

Jack's POV

I woke up on the couch, my head on a pillow. I groaned quietly, opening my eyes to a pair of closed curtains and a black TV screen. I muttered things under my breath, rubbing my eyes, sitting up and yawning. I didn't dare stretch, because I was scared it'd open my cuts again.

I smelt a scent of eggs and bacon, and I smiled weakly. Mark really was a good friend... maybe a bit more than a friend. Heck, we're almost friends with benefits. We've even made out before; well, when we were drunk, but still. Mark doesn't remember it, but I do. It's kinda sad if you think about it.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when I saw Mark walk into the room, holding a plate of bacon, eggs and a slice of toast. I smiled at him as he sat down next to me, handing me my food. I sighed.

'Y-You didn't h-have to, Mark.' I chuckled. He wrapped one arm around me, side hugging me.

"Of course I did. You're going through a tough situation right now, I might as well help you out. I'ma go get you a drink, anything you want in particular?" He asked. I shook my head, not really bothered. He nodded, getting up and walking back into the kitchen. I blushed again slightly, smiling like a fangirl. I giggled, tucking into my food, which was suprisingly good. Scratch that, it was amazing.

Mark walked back in the living room, giving me a large cup of orange juice. I thanked him quietly, putting my plate down, not being too hungry. I often starved myself anyway, so it wasn't much different. I sighed, drinking half the cup of orange juice, then putting it down next to the plate. Mark gave me a skeptical look.

"Are you not gonna eat all of it?" He muttered, looking a little disappointed. I sighed, shaking my head, annoyed with myself.

'S-Sorry, I'm um.. n-not that hungry.' I replied, looking down at my feet. Mark shuffled up next to me, sighing. He gave me a look, before taking my left hand. I just imagined him as doing it in a friendly way; it's not like he's gay. Plus, he'd never like me anyway. I shook my head, looking back up at him.

"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong now?" He said soothingly, looking me straight in the eyes. I nodded slowly, taking a deep breath, trying to calm myself.

(Please pretend Jack is stuttering. It's very hard to continuously put '-' inbetween what he's saying.)

'Well.. first of all.. I'm bullied a lot at school for how I look, and my sexuality. I'm called a gay freak, then I'm beaten into the lockers like I'm nothing. I don't eat anything anymore because I've been called fat, if I do eat, it's barely anything. My father abuses me for doing things wrong, for my low grades, for getting anywhere near him, and especially if I talk back to him. He's literally left me unconscious for about 3 days straight before. My mother hates me in general, but she only verbally abuses me. I've come home with broken bones before, and my parents just leave me to rot. My brother never talks to me, and he acts like I'm invisible. My teachers give me detention for doing nothing, and I've literally been screamed at by the Headmaster for 'punching someone'. They hit themselves against the wall to give themselves a bruise and told him I'd done it. My life is just falling apart Mark. I'm not worth anything. I'm fat, I'm ugly, I'm-' I was cut short by Mark putting his finger on my lip, and pulling me in for a hug. I choked back a sob, tears slowly running down my face. He slowly cradled me, holding me tight. My breaths were shaky, and short.

"Hey, hey. It's fine. You're not fat. You're not ugly. You're beautiful, don't let anyone tell you otherwise. If anyone touches you again, you tell me. Don't let anything or anyone get to you. Focus on the good things, not your flaws, though you don't seem to have any." He chuckled, pulling me onto his lap and letting my cry onto his shirt. He rested his head on mine, rubbing comforting circles into my back. I smiled a little bit, wrapping my arms around Mark.

'Thank you.'