Why be the judge? (Septiplier)

Chapter 13

JACKS POV

I walk out the door and start to cross the lawn. Somewhere, from the back of my brain, a thought comes rushing forward; it's your last chance Jack, make your move. It stops me, I know it's right, I know that this chance wont pop up again, so I turn and face him, slightly shaky.

"M-Ma-Mark there's s-something I have to tell y-you. I....I," the words try not to escape my mouth, but I force them, "I like you Mark, since the first day I started here 2 weeks ago." I look at Mark for a reaction, but all I get are his dark brown eyes staring at me. But the answer I get from him confuses me.

"Why? Why do you like me Jack?"     

MARKS POV

What he tells me surprises me. Excites me even. But there's one question circling my head that I just need to ask him.

"Why? Why do you like me Jack? Why do you like an asshole that beats others up, that makes fun of people with learning disabilities?" he knows who I'm talking about. There's a kid in our grade name Leon and he has ADHD and Dyslexia and I make fun of him for it.  "Tell me Jack. Tell me now!"

He flinches at me yelling and looks down at the ground for a minute, before  answering.

"B-because you don't mean it, Mark. You don't want to do it; you just want to keep your popularity status. I can see it in your eyes. That first day in maths, I could tell that you have so much to give, that you want to be liked. And you are, but by the wrong people. Gerard tells me that you were different a few years ago, and that you wouldn't hurt a fly. That's the reason I like you Mark, but I understand if it's not returned." What he says is the kindest thing I've ever heard. He cares about me, I can tell. I take a few steps backwards and look at him once more before shutting the door. I want to be with him. I want to care about him and hug him. I just don't think I know how to return that love.

JACKS POV

He stares at me for a minute before shutting the door. Rejection. I understand though. I mean, who would love something like this? An ugly, unwanted waste of space, that's all I am. With my head hung low I cross the road over to my place. I get to the front door and pull it open, only to find that my parents had started drinking.

"Hey look Michael; the faggot came home," she sneers, "So where've you been? Screwing your boy toy? Hmm? Well! ANSWER ME!"

"I don't have a boyfriend," I whisper

"What did you say? Come on speak up you fucking pussy.... oh wait you can't be one, you're gay!" she laughs at her attempt at a joke.

"I DON'T HAVE A BOYFRIEND!!" I practically yell. And I immediately regret it. My dad walks out from the lounge room where he was sitting and grabs my shirt collar.

"Don't you EVER yell at your fucking mother again! You hear me? If you yell again, I'll make your pointless existence come to an end," he throws me to the ground and starts kicking me in the stomach, "You disgust me. An ugly, gay fuck up! You are the perfect description of an accident!" he kicks me a few more times before grabbing the scruff of my shirt and hauling me upstairs to my room, then chucking me onto the floor before slamming the door shut. I lay there on the floor for who knows how long, I don't cry or think about what just happened. I just lay there, and eventually go to sleep.