So, I decided Marksepticeye needed to happen because....yeah. Here it is!
My alarm clock went off. Light seeped in through the curtains on my window. I groaned and slammed my fist down on the desk, hoping the horrendously annoying noise would stop. Luckily, it did. I slowly sat up, rubbing my eyes. I put my glasses on my face and yawned. Yay. Another shitty day. I stumbled towards my kitchen, barely concious. I opened up my medicine cabinet, and it uttered a sharp sqeeeaak. I pulled down an orange pill bottle and read the large words printed on the front: DEPRESSION MEDICATION. I sighed and popped a couple in my mouth, washing it down with the alcohol I keep on my counter. I grabbed the bottle and headed back to my bedroom. I glanced over at my computer. The only reason why you wake up in the morning is so that you can make youtube videos. You may as well. I sat down in my computer chair and checked skype. Wade was offline. Bob was offline. Yami was offline. Maybe I should just go back to bed...Then a message appeared on my screen. Hey Mark! It was from Jack. Hey Jack. What's up?
Not much, you? -J
Nothing important -M
Hey, since I'm in town, wanna hang out later? -J
Darkness began creeping it's way into my vision, blurring everything. I felt myself becoming more and more dizzy. My chest was tightning. My lungs seared. I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness. Before my mind completly faded I frantically typed help. I felt a sharp pain shoot through my skull as I hit the floor.
Jack's PoV
I saw a response from Mark pop onto my computer screen. Help. What? I stood up, grabbing my keys and racing out the door. The tires on my car screeched as I raced out of the driveway. Luckily, there were no cops nereby. I quickly arrived at Mark's apartment building. I sped towards his apartment and whipped the door open. "Mark!? MARK!?" I called throughout his house. No answer. I charged into his bedroom and saw him laying on the floor, unconscious. A bottle of alcohol was spilled next to him. "Oh my God! Mark?" I gasped slightly. I dialed 9-1-1 on my cell phone and rapidly informed them of what had happened. Ambulance sirens sounded outside. They placed him in the ambulance and I got on with him. I couldn't leave him by himself right now. Once we arrived at the hospital Mark was rushed to the ER. I sat just outside, my face in my hands. I had known Mark drank quite frequently, but this? His depression was getting out of control. He was hurting the people around him, he was hurting himself..I should've helped him more, I should have done something. I felt warm tears run down my face. A doctor walked out of Mark's room. I stood up immediatley. "You're friend has taken some of his medication with a large amount of alcohol, causing heart and breathing problems. There's a large chance he will recover, but there's a very small chance that he may not..." the doctor trailed off. "Can I see him?" I demanded. He nodded his head, and I rushed into the room. Mark was sleeping, he had multiple tubes hooking him up to different beeping machines. I studied his face. His skin was sickly pale, and he had dark bags under his eyes. His face looked unnaturally thin. I kneeled next to his bed. I gently placed my hand on top of his. "Please Mark..." these were the only words I could utter before they turned into soft crying. He can't die...I need him. As cheesy as it sounded, Jack knew it was true. He did need Mark. I needed to here his voice...his laugh...I needed to see his smile. I searched through my memories, trying to recall the last time Mark smiled. I removed my hand from Mark's and walked over to the chair in the corner of the room. I sharply drew in breath, trying to stop the tears from flooding down my face. I rested my head back. I needed to sleep. With the tears still stinging my eyes slightly, I drifted into sleep.
