It was the most painful thing Alex had ever experienced. Watching Jack pack up the few things he had, knowing that the man he loved was going to be homeless once more. Alex couldn't believe his life had gone from so blissful to barely worth living, in a single night. But if only Alex knew, if only he knew how much this was killing Jack. Every breath he took shot a searing pain through out his entire body. He was about to hit an all time low. He was being pushed back into the mind set he was in a few months before, back when his parents had died, and he was scared losing Alex might finally be pushing him to his breaking point.
Jack grabbed his things and left while he thought Alex was asleep. He didn't bother going to the soup kitchen. He went straight to Ms. Kassen's house instead. She met him at the door with a confused and worried look upon her usually carefree face. She sat him down in the living room, in the same place Alex's mother had been just a few weeks before. She poured him tea, and he too poured out his heart. He was never one to share his feelings, but he knew this time he had to. He told her everything, from the very first night he met Alex, to the harsh final words that had forced Jack out of his life.
"Jack, you know I'll always think of you as a son. You need to stay strong okay dear you are better than him please Jack don't let Alex win. Don't hurt yourself. I'm begging you, promise me you will not harm yourself again. He isn't worth it."
"But he is..." Jack whispered.
"No.He isn't. He laughed at you for loving him. For caring. He is scum. You will find someone better, and you will get over that asshole. Pardon my french. But really dear, it can never get better if you end it. Please. Promise me." She pleaded to him, staring him dead in the eye as he shied away.
"I promise." Jack said, but he knew he was lying. "I guess I'll just go drop my stuff off at the kitchen then. Thank you for your time Ms. Kassen." He mumbled politely, standing up to leave.
"Nonsense! You're staying here for as long as you need. Do I have stupid written across my face boy? Gosh I hope not. But no, really, you're living here and I'm going to get you the help you need." She insisted stubbornly, grabbing his bag and leading him down the stairs into the basement. "My husband used to sleep down here when we fought, he turned it into a neat little bachelor pad so to speak. I think you'll quite enjoy it. He wanted to take all the stuff when he left but I wouldn't let that dirty sneak touch a single thing. Now go take a nap honey, you look exhausted." She kissed him on the cheek and left him to explore his new home. It was a nice room. It had a big fireplace, Foosball tables, black leather couches and a huge flat screen tv pinned up on the wall. But even thought the room was every guys dream, Jack couldn't stop thinking about Alex. How much fun they would have had down here. He would have loved it.
"Fucking Christ." Jack cursed, sneaking back up the stairs that led to the kitchen. After some searching, he grabbed a small knife from the cutlery drawer and ran back down to the bathroom he had seen beneath the stairs in his new room. He needed this. He needed to feel the pain he was feeling on this inside, on the outside too. He took off his jeans and sat on the edge of the tub, taking a deep breath as the sharp blade dug into his bare thigh. The pale white skin already covered in deep scars became red as the blood oozed from the open wound. He dug as deep as he could without having to worry about bleeding out. He wanted to die, but not yet. He was already breaking half of his promise by doing this, he couldn't kill himself just yet. Ms. Kassen need help around the house, and even the strongest people get lonely after 10 years of silence. Her life needed a new sense of purpose. Jack wanted to give her that purpose.
"Jack Barakat." Ms. Kassen called from behind the door. "You better not be breaking your promise in there."
"I'm just taking a bath Ms. Kassen. No worries." He called, rinsing the knife and hiding it in the closet beside the sink for later.
"Call me Laurain." She chuckled, "I left you a snack on your night stand. Peanut butter cookies. Enjoy dear."
Jack couldn't believe how kind she was being. He didn't deserve it. He deserved to die. He was useless. That was something Alex made quite painfully clear.
"STOP THINKING ABOUT THAT FUCKING ASSHOLE, HE DOESN'T DESERVE YOUR TIME" Jack scolded himself. His cut was still bleeding, but he had almost forgot about it. It was deep. Deeper than he usually let himself go. He wrapped his thigh in gauze, and pulled his pants over. He cringed as he tried to take a step, the tightness of his jeans rubbing against the gauze. Wincing, he limped over to his bed, pulling back the red comforter he slid in and made himself comfortable. It was hard to be in a big bed alone, but the throbbing slash on his thigh gave him the comfort he needad as he drifted off into a deep and dreamless sleep.
"Jack! Dinner's on the table! Your favourite!" Laurain called down from the kitchen.
"Hm.. oh coming!" Jack mumbled wiping the sleep from his eyes as he pulled himself out of bed. He had slept all afternoon, but he didn't fell any better.
"Macaroni!" Laurain laughed as Jack limped over to the table. She eyed him up and down, but decided not to comment, not wanting to start conflict with the already fragile boy.
"Thank you." Jack smiled appreciatively. The smile was forced, but he made sure it was there none the less.
"Now, time to get down to business." Laurain said, taking a deep breath, "I called the school and told them you were taking a month off. I signed you up for a group therapy program, so instead of going to school I'll be dropping you off there every morning. You'll be back after Christmas. You'll be getting a class credit for it and everything, no need to worry. Everything's going to fall back into place dear."
"W-why are you doing all this?" Jack stuttered, unable to understand why on earth someone would want to help him. He was a loser. A nothing.
"You're all I have now Jack." She whispered, their gaze locking. But she wouldn't let the tense air go stale, and quickly continued on, "Be up at 8 tomorrow, your appointment starts at 9:30. You'll be there till 3. Now eat up and get back to bed."
The table was quiet for the remainder of the meal. But it wasn't an awkward silence, it was peaceful. There was no pressure to strike up conversation, just a calmness as each of them sat immersed in their own thoughts.
