Don't fear it //Jim Moriarty//

[03]

Your Point Of View

You woke up with Jim laying in your arms. You were glad your parents weren't home for a few days, because if they saw this, they would definitely believe the rumours were true. The events of last night came back to you, and a pang of sadness hit you in the heart. You thought it was so unfair that he wasn't happy. He deserved happiness, you decided. You would be the one to give him that happiness.

You shook him awake, not really knowing what else to do. He sat up and gave you a smile. You felt so bad about last night. That was your problem. It was nothing to do with you, yet you felt bad. He stood up, and something fell out of his jeans.

You grabbed it before he could. A gun. You knew your guns quite well, so you could tell it was a Beretta 92FS. You held it away from him.

"Why do you have this?" You asked.

"My mum asked me the same question last night. I have it because I might need it." He shrugged.

"Jim, I swear. If you're gonna kill yourself with that thing..."

"Honestly, I thought about it. I sat there for hours on my own. Thirteen hours to be precise. I sat in a dark room by myself for thirteen hours, thinking about it. I was going to. I wanted to. It was going to use a single bullet, gun in mouth, clean shot. Would have done the trick. But I didn't."

"Were you scared?" Was all you could ask.

"No. I wasn't, for some reason. Death never scared me. I just wanted to end it, maybe to be cruel to the people I knew, or maybe just to escape. I don't know why I wanted to do it. I just did. It felt like it was the right choice."

"Well I'm glad you didn't."

"I am too." He said, but you could tell he was lying.

"You know, if you ever need to talk, I'll be here for you."

"Thanks."

You didn't really know what else to say. Jim had thought about killing himself. You were now thinking about what could have possibly been so bad, or what could have made him want to do that. You tried to push it to the back of your mind, hoping he wouldn't do it. He had you to talk to if he ever felt that low again.

"So, uh... We should probably get ready for school." You said. Jim nodded.

"Yeah. I'm just gonna wear this." He mumbled, motioning to what he was wearing. You grabbed some clothes and made your way to the bathroom. Once you were dressed, you went back into your room, and sat next to Jim on your bed.

"So we've got like twenty minutes before we have to leave. Wanna do anything? Eat?" You asked. He didn't say anything, but kept staring at you. "Jim?"

"You're really pretty..." He mumbled, then jolted up out of his trance. You blushed from the compliment, but didn't say anything about it. You didn't want to embarrass him at all. He followed you downstairs.

"About last night..." You began. "What happened? You said you hurt yourself? What does that mean?"

"It doesn't mean anything. I was just emotionally drained last night."

"I'm sorry, but I don't believe that. What did you really mean?"

"I meant I hurt myself. Simple as."

"In what way?"

"Just one cut. I wanted to see if I could feel anything other than what I was feeling in that moment."

"Please don't do it again."

"It's my body."

"So look after it."