PTSD- Hold on Jack (septiplier) ~ DISCONTINUED ~

4

A/n: Bold and italics with or without "quotations" means the sentence is in jacks head.

Long chapter!

---------

~Jack~

I gaze out the window on the car ride to Mark's house. I guess he doesn't care if we skip school, does he care more about me? Nah that can't be it. He probably just wanted an excuse to ditch so he used me.

Yep, sounds a bit right.

Why is he being so nice to me? Nobody's nice to me. I'm a worthless and pathetic human, so why would anyone bother to be my friend let alone help or talk to me?

I just want to be alone. Alone to my thoughts, alone so I can vomit everything up until it's just acid, alone to self harm as much as I want, I just want to be alone like I have been my whole life.

But not everybody can get what they want. Especially if theirs someone named Mark Fischbach.

-----

- At Mark's house -
~3rd person~

Mark parks in his driveway and gets out first to assist his wounded friend. He helps him inside and tosses his car keys on the side table by the door.

"W-wow your house is so fancy and huge" said Jack in amazement.

"It's not that fancy, but it is a bit too big for just me and my mom to live in though" he replied while helping Jack move to the living room.

"Your mom? I told you I didn't wanna come here, I don't wanna be a both-"

"Jack stop it, my mom is away on a business trip for awhile and even if she was here, she wouldn't mind at all that I brought a friend over" said Mark while setting him down on the couch.

Jack furrows his brows, "I'm your friend?" He questioned.

"W-well y-ya, To me you are at least"

Jack nods and looks down at his feet playing with the sleeves of his shirt.

"You sit here, I'll be right back" says Mark as he leaves briefly.

Jack just twiddled his thumbs keeping his head down, thinking if he should really trust Mark or not. After all he did bring him into his own house. Not just anybody does that right?

Soon Mark returns with a small first aid kit and sits in front of Jack.

Mark goes to clean a small open cut on jacks hand, Jack flinches and pulls his hand slightly away as the disinfectant touched the open wound.

"Sorry, it'll only sting for a second" said Mark with sympathy in his tone.

Jack sighs but brings his hand back so Mark could finish.

"Mark, why are you helping me?" Jack unenthusiastically blurted out.

"Because, it seemed like you needed a friend"  Mark replied still focused on jacks small wound.

Jack looked out a nearby window and quietly mumbled, "nobody wants to be my friend"

Mark shook his head in disbelief, "I want to be your friend,"