"Sometimes people just can't be helped, some of us are meant to die, drop it" Jack spat at me, I flinched at his words but my determination was stronger. I can and I will help him, without help he will never get out of here.. *** After Alex Gaskarth was hospitalized for his third suicide attempt this year his parents decided that it would be best for him to spend some time in the Teen Psychiatric ward of Valley Springs Hospital. There he has to share a room with Jack Barakat, who was possibly the worst person to room with due to his attitude, but when Alex discovers more about Jack and why he was there he begins to feel different towards the boy he was told to stay away from. Will Jack accept Alex's help and encouragement? Or will he shut himself away from Alex and refuse anything to do with him? Is what Alex feels towards Jack more than just the need to help him? (Trigger Warnings will be listed on the first chapter)

OVERDOSE (noun); a lethal amount that can cause death SUICIDE (noun); the act of taking one’s own life voluntarily and intentionally He’s gone. Those two words, two words that seem so simple, make a life so complicated. The changes are drastic to some, manageable to others. Some people turn to alcohol, partying, anything to better the pain. Others keep their depression to themselves, letting some people in, the other people not caring to figure out what is wrong. Force a smile. Apply waterproof makeup. Make new friends. And most importantly, don’t let what his brother says to you break you down. Because we all know that you’re not the only one who is suffering.

What is the best way to keep a secret? "Tell it to everyone you know, but pretend you are kidding" - Lemony Snicket. It turned out that Snicket was painfully correct. By the time I reached P.E. after lunch on Monday, it was tipping over the edge of eighty degrees, and my red hoodie had been stuffed in the back of my locker since Brunch. I'd lost count of how many people had gaped at my arm with shocked expressions and open mouths, curious voices unsure of whether or not they wanted to know the answer asking, "Did you cut your arm?" By third period, I'd gotten so fucking sick of repeating the same excuse that my sarcastic asshole side had leaked out. So, I'd been responding to my classmates appalled questions with something along the lines of, "Yes, I cut myself." There was a kind of sick humor to it - technically, I was telling the truth. Not that anyone would ever know it. Cover cred to RazorbladeKissesx