Hidden In The Attic: An AJR Fanfiction

Chapter Seven

The ringing in my ears won't go away. It's becoming deafening. I hit the side of my head a couple times to try and clear it, but all I do is worsen the headache that seems to have come along with it.
I feel my wrists getting grabbed and pulled away from my head.
"Hun, what are you doing?"
I open my eyes and Hanna is in front of me. I want to say that I hear ringing all the time and I feel like I'm going insane, but she'll most probably think it's because I fell and hit my head. "I just have- uh- I have water in my ears."
"You what?"
Awkwardly breaking eye contact, I jerk my hands from hers and stand up hastily before bolting upstairs to my room, slamming the door shut. The ringing is definitely getting louder.
My hands are still bloodied and scratched, but I can't feel a thing. I cover my ears— though I know it won't help— and sink to my knees.
Please, I just want it to stop. I need something to make it stop.
I get up and run to the bathroom, still covering my ears. I turn on the faucet in the bathtub, pacing the small room anxiously as I wait for the tub to fill. When the water is finally high enough I plunge my head under.
Make it stop. Make it stop. Make it stop.
I feel for the tap, my head still underwater, and switch it off. When I can't hold my breath anymore I lift my head, breathing heavily with my heartbeat in my ears.
This isn't going to work.
I fumble around in my pockets for my phone and try to play music as loud as I possibly can. Maybe I can replace the ringing with a better sound.
Stop stop stop!
Nothing is fucking working. Distraught, I throw my phone across the bathroom and cradle myself against the tub. I try to stop myself, but it's a feeble attempt and I just start screaming in frustration. My head has been hurting from keeping it in.
"Jack, what the fuck is going on?"
There's a banging at the bathroom door.
I lift my head. The ringing is gone. I unclench my jaw and stand up shakily.
"Jack? Are you in there? What happened?"
I open the door and stare at Ryan's terribly worried face. And I feel... nothing.
"Dude, are you alright? What was going on in there?"
I don't answer him. I can't summon the strength to speak.
"Jack?"
I push past him, walk out the door, and go down stairs, water dripping from my hair and all over my clothes. With each descending step I can feel my own thoughts become cloudier and cloudier and cloudier.
I hear one last cry of protest from Ryan: "What is happening?"
And I don't respond to that one, either. Not only because I can't find a voice, but also because of one other reason.
I have no fucking clue.