Another Rainy Day [SEPTIPLIER] (COMPLETED)

Chapter 5

(The following is a conversation taken place between the cell phones of Mark Fischbach and Sean {Jack}McLoughlin at approximately 10:19 pm, Wednesday)

J: Uh, hey Mark. This is you, right? Did I get the number wrong?

M: Nah, it's me dude.

J: prove it. Tell me something Mark would know.

M: I took a fist for you today and broke my nose.

J: ok I believe you. Seriously though, why did you do it?

M: I didn't want you to get hurt, and I just... jumped in front of you. I know, I was being stupid

J: hey, you're not stupid, got it?

M: alright.

J: besides, if you were stupid, you wouldn't be tutoring me, ya dork ;P

M: True, true. When should we start?

J: as soon as you're feeling better.

M: ok then! That should hopefully be soon! :)

J: good. You better be a total boss at math, cause I suck so bad

M: you better. I get credits for tutoring you

J: yeah, it was either you, Phil, or Cory.

M: Cory? You mean that kid who did a backflip in the cafeteria last year?

J: he did what?!

M: right, you weren't here. Basically, we were in the cafeteria, and he had made a bet with someone that he could do a backflip. The person doubted him, and he got up and stood on the table. Then he yelled, "Sucka please. BECAUSE MY NAME IS CORY KENSHINNNNN!!!!" And then he back flipped off of the table. And landed it perfectly.

J: That's awesome!

M: I know dude!

J: jeez he must be skilled. Did he get caught?

M: only by Mr. Avidan. He just started clapping. He's chill.

J: to you maybe. he can get testy with me.

M: aw come on, once I get your grades up, he'll love ya!

J: he better. I mean, how could he not? I'm FABULOUS!!!

M: not as fabulous as me!

J: is that a threat?

M: if you mean a threat to your fabulousness throne, then yes.

J: YOU'LL NEVER TAKE THE THRONE!!! GUARDS!!!!

M: YOU'LL NEVER TAKE
ME ALIVE!!!!

J: oh really? I accept that bet.

M: you're fighting a losing battle Jack!

J: Says the one who's gonna lose!

M: So, I might be able to come to school tomorrow, broken noses heal quickly, or something like that.

J: great! See you tomorrow then!

M: See ya!

After reading that last text sent from Mark, Jack turned off his phone and sat back at his desk. He had been texting with Mark for nearly an hour about the silliest things, instead of talking about the tutoring. Jack chuckled. He really was a big dork. The good kind though. The kind that's funny, kind, and would do anything to cheer you up. The kind that Jack liked. Yes, it was true. Jack was bisexual. There was nothing wrong with that. He hadn't been in many relationships, but the ones he had been in had all ended up hurting him.

Sighing, he pulled off his shirt and flopped on his bed. He stared up at the ceiling. It was pretty late, he should be sleeping. He scoffed quietly. "Sleep is for the weak," he muttered, still staring at the ceiling, wondering if Mark was still awake.

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Putting his phone down, Mark sighed. "School tomorrow. Hopefully," he murmured. Normally, one would be going to sleep now, it was 11:28. Mark had other plans. Slowly opening his door, he listened down the hall. Heavy snoring was heard from downstairs, faint snoring from his parents bedroom. Dad must have fallen asleep on the couch again, Mark thought. Closing his door again, he slipped his jeans back on, along with a dark grey and black hoodie. Then he carefully pried open his window. Climbing out, he reached out for the supple branch just under the window. Grabbing onto it, he stepped off the window ledge and onto the tree branch. Then he dropped down to the ground. His feet hit the damp grass with a wet thump. Taking off, he raced down the street, heading for the town. It was about a fifteen minute walk, ten if he ran.

The wind whipped at Mark's face as he ran through the night. He raced past house after house, building after building. Exhilaration rushed through him as he ran. Reaching the main town faster than he expected, he ran across the street to the left side. Seeing his destination just ahead, he picked up the pace. Finally arriving, he turned into the alleyway. No one was there, which was good. Looking around, he dove his hand into his jacket pocket. Fishing around, his hand withdrew, a disposable camera clutched in it. He had it in his hands and raised it up to his eye. He could see what was ahead of him in the small viewer. A small plant, an bit of graffiti, cracked bricks and-

A large, ominous shadow.

A large hand clamped down on Mark's shoulder. "Well well well," a raspy voice muttered. "Looks like Fish-back came back for his gay photography session." Mark gulped and turned to face the large man towering over him. "Uh, its actually Fischbach-" "Even after we specifically told him why would happen if he showed his face here again, didn't we?" The man said, talking to the two others behind him. "I-I'm sorry, I just w-wanted to-" Mark was cut off once again as the man pushed him against the brick wall, holding him by the neck. "We told you what would happen. Now you learn that we're true to our word," the man said, grinning. Mark whimpered. "P-Please, don't! I-I'm sorry, r-really!" But Mark's cries were in vain. He was kicked, punched, even swiped at with a blade. They spat words filled with poison at him. It was nearly half an hour before the gang gave up and left. And Mark, physically and verbally abused, lay there, shivering, bleeding, and crying.

Why did I think I could do this? Mark thought. Why did I even think they would leave me alone? Why did I even bother? They... They... They're right. They hate me. Others hate me. Everyone hates me. What right do I even have to still be here?...

Eventually, Mark dragged himself to his feet, shaking. Walking back home, he climbed back up the tree, even through immense pain. Finally tumbling back into his room, he walked into his bathroom. He didn't have any bruises on his face, thank goodness. But they were all over his arms and legs, and a few marks on his neck from where he had been grabbed. He also had a few cuts along his lower arms. Patching them up as quickly as he could, he walked back out, turned off the lights. He pulled off his hoodie, shirt, and newly-ripped jeans, until he was in just his boxers. Then, lying back on his bed, he drifted off to sleep. Tomorrow was coming too fast.