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"It's hideous," Jack whispers as he sits at the edge of the pickup. His feet dangling over the edge. He still wasn't ready but then again he knew he never would be.
"We all have scars darling," Mark whispers back and in return Jack shakes his head.
"But these? They're ugly," He mumbles looking at the stars. "They run across my back in jagged lines and puff out too far. They have red painted at the edges and trust me pretty boy... they aren't your average run fo the mill scars. These are something different. These scars have a story,"
Then he hops off the edge to stand on the grass. Feeling the dead strands whisp around his ankles. Taking a deep look at Marks face eh tries to keep the image. He doesn't know if he'll ever get it back after he tells him this. Trying to give a smile he simply ends up with a grimace. Quickly turning around he whips off his shirt, deciding he can't delay it anymore.
He doesn't hear Mark gasp. He doesn't hear him speak. All he hears his him jump off the truck and walk toward him. The padding of shoes on the grass. Tenderly he places a hand on his back. Marks skin is cold.
"It started when my dad-," Jack chokes on words for a second as Mark runs a hand down his bare skin, slowly tracing his punishment. "Died," he spits out. "He killed himself. Drank down a bottle of bleach while I was away at school,"
Jack begins to shake and he wishes Mark would just say something, anything.
"I walked in at home from the bus and the whole room spelled like it... it practically suffocated me," Jacks tongue stumbles confusingly over the words. His whole mouth feeling stiff.
"And when I opened the door he was just laying there. Vomit dripping from his mouth and he was making noises that I never knew humans could make. They sounded wet and guttural," Only then does he feel Mark freeze. "And you know what I did? I didn't scream. I didn't call 911. I didn't do a thing. I stood and watched as he choked on his own vomit. I watched as his eyes went dark Mark and I didn't stop it. Not a goddamn thing," His back is now trembling under Marks hand and his face is twisted up.
"I'll never forget it. Never forget as he gasped his last fucking breath and I watched. I watched for five minutes Mark. Five minutes I watched as he choked on his own puke and burns drew down his neck," Jack laughs bitterly. "But you know what? The worst part wasn't even that. It was watching him stare me in the eyes the whole entire time,"
Mark inhales a sharp deep breath and removes his hand. Tugging it close to his chest.
"He watched me Mark. He watched me let him die," Jack turns around to face Mark. His eyes stay dry while Marks eyes are dripping with tears.
"I'm a killer," he states. "And the scars on my back are my punishment,"
A/N
That chapter was very emotional to write and I sorta feel a bit sick and icky. I also want every one of you to know that I don't want you to ever do what Jacks dad did. Even if you don't feel like anyone cares trust me you can always know that I care. I care for each and everyone of you so deeply even if you are just strangers but you matter. Matter so damn much and remember what you could miss. Warm sunrises dripping off your skin. New books that you can breath in the scent off. All those shows you might miss that could change your life. Walking down a empty street in the morning light as music plays in your ears. Deeply breathing in the scent of your warm drink as you sit down by a window, watching the snow fall. I know that those moments seem small, mundane... but they aren't. Those moments are sweet and loving as they wrap you in hugs while handing you a soft blanket. Those moments could mean everything if you just let them and I get it that it could seem hopeless but trust me (I would know) that its not and if you ever think it truly is and you pick up the blade, or the pills, the bleach or anything remember that I cared deeply for you, even if I was just a stranger.... Sorry this was really sad (maybe kinda weird) but if someone ever discovers this and it helps even a little then I've succeeded because this chapter reminded me that all of you are valuable to me. (Also I needed to write this for myself a little bit after writing this) So as always thanks for reading and keep going.
-RewReader-
__Feeling Suicidal? Call this number 1-800-273-8255__
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Seduce and Destroy {Septiplier}
FanfictionYou could tell it in the way he walked. Those cocky strides and perfectly placed steps. The way he would stand with his feet pointed outward while talking. Leaning his head against his locker and daring you to fall into your own trap. Smirking as he...
