He just looked at me, he's in the same position as Cole once was. His hair wasn't as bad as Cole's. His clothes were okay since it wasn't anything fancy. It was simply, an Iron Man shirt and basketball shorts.
"It's nice to meet you." He spoke. His hands were tied together, using them he pointed in front of him. I guess trying to make me sit there.
I sat, not as close as he wanted, but at least I took a seat. He just stared at me, staring at me like I was being interrogated.
"Mom said you had brown hair and hazel eyes..." He cocked his head to the side, looking at me in confusion.
"Yeah, my hair was brown but, things happened and I now have this hair color." I didn't say anything about my eyes, for I had nothing to say about them.
"And your eyes?" He questioned me.
Okay, maybe I do have something to say about them now.
"I went to bed one day, then woke up the next morning and they were like this. Red." That's the truth, I really don't know how or why they changed.
He said a simple 'oh'. If I was him, that would probably be the only thing I'd say too.
"Mom's okay." He stated bluntly. I was taken back a bit, not expecting him to say that. "She told me about the asylum. Are you better?"
God, he seemed like a younger brother, rather than sixteen. Jezz.
"Sure," I said unsure myself. "Yeah, I am."
"Lies."
I raised my eyes brows. So does he know or not? He's giving off this feeling that he does and doesn't.
"Dylan, what do you know?" I questioned, standing to my feet to sit on the table.
"Being born, leaving Michigan, going back, to the asylum. There's more to it, though. I know it is. Mom and Cole left out a shit ton."
So he knew a little. That's a good thing they didn't tell them what the thought had happened to me. If they did, he wouldn't be acting the way he is. Then again, he's so calm, considering that he's chained to the wall with anything to do but wait for things.
"You want to know the real story? I can tell you if you want." My words were like venom dripping off my tongue. It wasn't in a bad way, it was pretty much like a white girl wants Starbucks.
In other words, means I'm wanting him to know what really happened. Knowing that if I could tell him myself, he could understand what happened and why.
It took me a few good minutes to tell him everything, when it started and why it happened.
"It happened because Jack lied. He told me that someone was after me, so that was his excuse for killing dad." I stated looking down at him.
"What if he was telling the truth? What if someone is really after you, and just wanted to protect you? The things Cole said seemed to explain itself; talking about him, it seems he cares. Also, that you may have a thing for him-from what Micah says." He said, trying to move his legs, which are probably numb. "Plus, that other kid... The way he talked, he seems to have a desire to hate Jack, but he can't."
One, I do not have a thing for Jack. Two, I understand that Micah is that person who wants to hate, but can't. He wants to hate him I guess. If I was him, I'd hate him no matter what.
"I don't have a thing for Jack, and the other kid is Micah." I laid back on the table, looking at the first floors wooden boards.
"Micah, Michael, I don't care. You have a thing for Jack."
![](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/11836858-288-k145365.jpg)
YOU ARE READING
The One I Call Jack. (Eyeless Jack Story.)
Fanfiction*Not edited, I'm doing this on my phone. I do not own any of the Creepypasta, I own the following characters: Emily, Micah, Tyler, Cole, Dylan & The Parents. I simply made this out of boredom and for entertainment purposes. Please, enjoy.* Emily was...