The Life of Jacob Track (Book Two of the 33X Series)

CHAPTER THIRTY

           

CHAPTER THIRTY

The day of Jacob's supposed death

October 28, 2013

The death of Jacob Track was a complicated affair, mostly because it never occurred. There has been much speculation throughout the almost two years since his "passing" of what really happened that night on the bridge in Larned, Kansas. The details have been told, but not much of it was the truth.

It was believed that Jacob jumped to his death, leaving behind a suicide note, his body washed away in the Arkansas river.

It is also believed by his closest friends, The Misfits, that Jacob was murdered by a mysterious ex-girlfriend, overcome with obsession, rage, and jealousy. Then Jacob, unrest in his death, came back from revenge.

Neither of these are true, but both hold some facts. Some of that truth has been told, piece by piece, but the total truth lies within three people: Jacob Track, Trina Johnson, and Larry Rumsfield.

It was a surprisingly warm October morning when Jacob Track rolled out of his warm bed. His sheets were crumpled from the restless sleep, and his eyes were still bloodshot from crying the night before.  He was overcome by his depression and the loss of the relationship with Zacchya.

He couldn't keep living a lie. Every day he awoke, feeling dead inside, but forced to put on a smile for his friends and family.  No one knew his secret pain.  No one knew that he had tried weeks before to kill himself, cutting on his wrist, but couldn't handle the pain.  He cursed himself for being weak-willed, not feeling like a real man.

Jacob longed to be himself, the true self he felt inside: lonely, depressed, unsure of his future, no longer wanting to be "Perfect Jacob Track: Larned's most beloved boy."  He wasn't perfect and never would be.  Most days he hated himself for that, the unrealistic expectations on his shoulders, put there by himself and everyone else.  He prayed so many times to be perfect, but he couldn't.  Most days it was hard enough trying not to snap at someone, or just to even get out of bed.  He longed so much to lay in bed forever until he shriveled up and died.  His depression had taken over his life.  He knew that he should reach out for help, but continued to drown internally in his sadness, anxiety, and self-pity.

Jacob forced himself to crawl from under the covers, and headed to the closet. Clothes were strewn about on the floor, almost none were on the hangers as they should be.  He picked up a t-shirt that smelled decent and slipped it on.  He found some clean jeans and did the same.  He didn't really care what they smelled like, it was all for appearances. He had to keep playing the part until the show was over.

Jacob headed downstairs to the kitchen, forcing himself to eat a bowl of cereal, even though he wasn't hungry.  His mind wandered, like it had lately, about suicide.  If he had a gun, it would be quick, probably painless.  Where would he get a gun, though? Pills caused too many side effects and were too easy to pump out of his system.  It was looking as though the gun was going to be the best option, especially since he couldn't handle the cutting, and the thought of strangulation scared him too much.  He wondered if he'd ever have the courage to pull it off though?

"Honey, you look like you drifted off to Mars," Liz said sweetly.

"Oh sorry, didn't get enough sleep for some reason. My brain feels like mush today," he frowned.

"Well, shoot. You think it's stress from school? Should you drop football? It's ok if you want to, we won't be mad. I'd rather you focus on your schoolwork if it's too much. I don't want you to overdo it."