It's Too Late (Septiplier)

13.

~Jack~

It was Monday, once again. It felt like the weekend went on forever, not that I really wanted it to end. School was one of the worst places for me to be, however not as bad as home. I guess you could say it was like a hell away from hell.

I walked into school with my depressed look that seems like it will be forever stained onto my face. I didn't feel as bad today because I knew I was going to get to see Mark again today. My mood seemed to lighten up the tiniest bit at the thought of him.

I remembered when I was at his house during the weekend. I could feel a blush forming on my cheeks. I quickly made my way to the bathroom.

Once I was in front of the sinks, I dropped my bag on the floor and looked into it. There was a very noticeable blush that contrasted with my pale skin. I sighed and I tried my best not to think about it anymore, but I liked to think about that. It was a nice difference from the depressing thoughts.

I shook my head and sighed again at my reflection. I closed my eyes and collected my giddy self and reached for my bag. However, it wasn't there. I looked over and saw James with my bag in his hand, along with Matt on his right and Milo on his left.

I froze, I knew what was going to happen next. They were going to give me a beating. Well, that's what I thought anyway. Instead they ripped open my bag and shuffled through.

They were going through all of my stuff. However the one thing I actually cared about that was in there was my journal. I know, lame right? A journal, but that journal was given to me by my mother and I still use it to write all my thoughts in.

Milo was the one to pull it from my bag. My eyes grew wide as I saw my light brown leather journal in the hands of these three. Milo started to open it, and without knowing what I was doing, I lunged at him.

I tried to get the journal from him but James caught me and pinned me against the wall.

"Open it," I heard him say. Milo opened the journal and started to read.

~Mom, why? Why did you have to die on me? I loved you, and you loved me. You even loved me when I told you, unlike dad, who I now have to live with in America. I'm leaving on the plane tomorrow and I'm scared, mom. What will he do to me? The court made an awful decision.

~He insults me, mom. He's always drinking and he insults me. He hates me. I don't understand why he can't be like you. You were always nice to me.

~I went back to school for the first time since the move. It was strange. No one wants to be my friend. Am I that strange mom?

~It's useless. I have no one. And you're not real anymore, are you? I've given up on that because even if you could hear me right now there's nothing you can do.

~I've made it to high school now ma. Are you proud of me for making it this far? I would have killed myself a long time ago if I had the chance.

~I still have no friends. No one loves me. I'm not sure that love is real. The world seems too full of hate to have room for something like love.

~I'm getting bullied mom. There's nothing I can do about it but take it. I deserve it anyways, for being that kid that no body wants.

~Dad. I don't even think I can call him dad anymore. He started to beat me. It's so scary now to be anywhere. I don't even want to leave my room.

~I can't sleep. I can't eat. I'm too ugly for my own good. I should have just kept my love for men a goddamn secret. Dad beats me for it. The bullies at school say I am, and they don't know, or at least I don't think so.

~I started to cut my arms. I know it's bad but it feels good to release my demons. I still cry quite a bit, I don't know if I've told you. I also still have your sweater. I managed to keep your favorite sweater. I wear it sometimes to feel better.

~My arms are shaking still. I'm afraid mom. Please help. I'm laying in bed shivering with only my boxers on. Mom, dad got a prostitute as a girlfriend. She fucked me, I didn't want it. Dad forced her to and I didn't want it. I'm so scared and I feel so gross. MOM, please just let me die already.

~It's been awhile. Life has been kind of okay. I finally have a friend. His name is Mark Fischbach. He is really nice to me now. He used to be one of the people who bullied me. He gave me his number because he worries about me which is something I still have to get used to. Someone caring about me, who knew?

~Mark let me stay over at his house. I had a panic attack when we were walking home. It was an awkward morning though. Mark had been trying to comfort me when I had a nightmare during the night and he fell asleep in the bed with me. When we woke up and he got out of bed, he was only wearing a t-shirt and boxers. HOLY SHIT THIS MAN IS SEXY! However, he's straight and I need control my goddamn self or I'm going to lose my one and only friend to my gayness. However, he did learn about my cuts, which made him upset.

~Mark helped me today. My drunk father beat me with his beer bottle today and I couldn't get up as shards of glass pierced my skin all over the place. Luckily he came over after I called him. He helped me into the bathroom and to clean up all the glass in my skin. However, he had to take off my shirt in order to do so which felt weird to me, but he probably didn't think much about it.

I tried wriggling in James grasp as Milo read the passages in the journal. I haven't read some of these in years, but I didn't want them to hear any of these. Especially, not the last few ones. Once Milo finished reading them, he started to chant,

"Sean likes Mark! Sean likes Mark!"

Matt also joined into their little cheer and James dropped me to the ground and I slumped against the wall in the bathroom. James joined in as well.

"Sean likes Mark," he said with a smirk, "you little fag." He added and kicked me in the face.

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

I woke up propped against the bathroom wall. I blinked a few times and saw my stuff in my bag was spilt out all over the floor. I crawled over to it and started to scoop up everything on the floor and stuffing it back into my bag.

I noticed my journal was gone. I sat up straight in panic. I leapt upwards and saw my journal was in the sink. The pages inside were ruined by the water and the ink I used on the pages had stained the sink.

My heart dropped. My journal my mother had given me. It was ruined.

Thank you everybody so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed. I don't really have all that much to say this time. I hope you have a good day or night depending on where you live and when you are reading this.