It's Too Late (Septiplier)

8.

~Jack~

It's been about a week since the incident at the coffee shop. Thankfully I didn't lose my job for losing my shit on a customer, and Phoenix hasn't asked about it. That's good because I'm not sure I can tell her what's going on in my life. I'm too used to bottling it up inside myself and never letting anyone see my true thoughts.

Something has gotten to me though, Mark hasn't said a word to me since then. I suppose that's what I wanted but it just doesn't feel right. He passes me in the hallways not saying a word, sometimes he even pushes me out of the way. I am being beaten up again at a regular schedule, I guess that Mark was actually doing something good for me after all. I was just too stupid to realize it.

My mind has been a mess and I really need someone right now, but I don't have anyone close enough to me where I feel like I can share these awful thoughts. I guess that's my fault, whenever anyone tries to get near me I always end up pushing them away. It's been like this as long as I can remember.

I sigh as I fall onto my bed. I haven't slept in days. Whenever I see my reflection in the mirror it's always a bad sight. My eyes have dark bags under them from all the sleepless nights I've had. They contrast with my pale skin making them extremely visible, yet no one asks about it. I suppose I don't have anyone to ask about it. Either it's someone who despises me for no apparent reason, or it's a friend who's too afraid to ask.

I get up from the bed. What use does it serve to me of I'm not going to sleep on it anyways. I walk around my room for a bit. What have I done to myself? I have made my life more miserable by trying to make it better. If that was how it was going to go then I wouldn't have even tried at all. 

These thoughts keep running through my head like an endless river. It will twist and turn through the corridors of my mind until it find it's way to the ocean, and even there the waves will crash against my skull telling me who I can and can't be; who I wish I was, and why. Why do I even try?

It must have been high-tide in my head at the moment because a large wave crashed in my head giving me a migraine. The ocean and the river combined down at my wrists making them itch and my anxiety was stacked way high in the sky. The pounding in my head wasn't helping and I felt like I was thrown into a deep blue pool where I was to drown.

I knew I needed to drain it out and I know how. I poke my head out of my room, making sure that my father was no where near the bathroom. I then snuck into the bathroom and locked the door behind. I saw what I came here for and my body yearned for the release.

I picked it up and let my body take over. It hurt, physically. The human part inside me told me that it hurt but my demon side was much more powerful. What the demon's told me hurt much more than the physical pain that was inflicted upon me during this, so to me I felt nothing.

I got lost in the relief it brought me as my unconscious self kept going. My stress was leaking out of my skin and the drowning feeling was almost gone. My head still pounded but the thoughts that were there were pushed back to the corners of my mind for the moment. I felt a little bit of bliss somewhere deep inside me when the world seemed to quiet down around me.

Then I had to tell myself to stop. I wasn't thinking properly anymore. I cleaned up my mess of blood and pain and drifted to my room. I collapsed on my bed and everything started to turn to black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up to the sun hitting my skin. I don't really remember going to sleep. I pushed myself up and yelped in pain. I looked at my arm. Dried up blood covered most of my arm. I hadn't bandaged these up. I looked down at the cover's on my bed. Dried up blood covered a spot on my sheets as well.

Obviously I must have lost too much blood and passed out. I grumbled at my stupid self for making everything so much more complicated than it had to be. I went to the bathroom and started to wipe off the blood on my arm. It hurt to clean it up but it's the price I have to pay to get the demons out of my head for even the smallest amount of time.

I wrap up my arm and bring a wet cloth into my room to try and wipe off some of the blood on my bed. I didn't dare take it downstairs for the thought of getting questioned by my drunken father. I managed to wipe off most of the blood off of it. I rinsed the cloth in the bathroom and let it dry in there.

When I went back to my room I checked the time. 10:38. I then realized that I had no clue what day it was. I looked at my phone. It was Saturday. I had work today and my shift started at 10. I grabbed my uniform and slipped it on as fast as I could and sped out the door. I was running as fast as I could trying to slim down the time it would take to get there. I knew that it would be past eleven by the time I get there.

~~~~~~~Time skip brought to you by Starbucks~~~~~~~

I pushed open the door out of breath and there was my boss waiting for me.

"Jack, you are more than an hour late to work,"

"I know, sir" I said quietly, trying to hide my shame.

"I'm not going to fire you, yet. This is a warning. If it happens another time you're out." He said sternly.

"Yes sir," I mumbled.

"Good now get to work." I nodded and dragged myself behind the counter. Phoenix turned to me and asked,

"Why were you late?" Thankfully, she didn't sound like she was mad, she seemed to be asking because she cared. That seemed the slightest bit weird to me just because no one cares for me.

"Long night, I wasn't feeling too well," I responded. It wasn't exactly a lie but it wasn't necessarily a truth either. I wasn't feeling well, just not in the way she thinks. She nodded and didn't bring it up again afterwards.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was walking home in my uniform when I spotted a playground. It looked like the one I had been on when I was walking to school that one day. It was also where Mark confronted me. I had a strange urge to sit there.

I walked up to it and I took off my hat and I untied my apron and slid off my yellow work shirt, leaving me in my ripped black skinny jeans and a loose grey long sleeved shirt. I left my work clothes in a pile near the swings and climbed onto one.

Once I was seated, I rolled up one sleeve and looked at the scars I had left on my skin. I had taken off the bandage at work when I went to the bathroom. They had stopped bleeding and the bulkiness of the bandage was a little bit obnoxious for me.

Then I heard footsteps behind me. I pulled up my sleeve and turned around slightly, with my arm still in my other hand, and saw the one and only Mark Fischbach. I felt kind of relieved that it was him.

I let go of my arm and turned around as he sat down on the swing next to mine.

"Jack I want to make things right."

Lol sorry for the cliff hanger (I guess). But I hope you enjoyed, I was trying something with a bit less action today and more physiological. I like it and I hope you do to! I don't really have all that much to say other than that I am going to try and update this every weekend because I don't have a lot of time to put in my full effort during the weekdays so yeah.