Sometimes when it's really really quiet, and all I can here is the sound of my laptop's fan and the small creaks in the house when the wind blows, I almost feel like I don't exist. Like all I am is a figment of somethings imagination and soon I'll blink and everything will be over. A lot of the time I wish it was true, but then I would hate whatever was imagining me like this because like fuck you for making me so messed up. These are my least favorite moments, the moments when life feels most point less. The moments where I think it'd be simple to end it all, and that's a hard thing to think. This thinking however has become normal for me, I even dream about it sometimes. These dreams, more like nightmares, often consist of me laying in my bathroom, cutting deep slashes in my arm and proceeding to swallow a large handful of pills, but I always panic and try to throw them back up in the end. I wonder if normal people ever feel like this. Like nothing will ever be good again and it will always be pointless to continue on your current path. I guess it's normal to not know where your going in life, but I don't think my particular version is. At least I know I never really will kill myself. That panicking at the end of my dreams proves that I guess. I wonder also if this kind of thinking will ever stop, or if there will always be a part of me that wants to die.

It always takes something sudden to pull me out of this sort of trance, where I'm still doing normal things, (aka scrolling mindlessly on my computer) but doing them as if I wasn't real, or as if it I had no control over my actions. This time the thing to pull me out was a song, First Date by Blink 182 to be exact, as my phone rang somewhere tangled in my blankets. I pulled it out to see my boyfriend's name on the phone accompanied by the time, 10:53. Why is Jack calling me at 10:53?

“Hello,” my voice cracks a little do to not using it in a few hours, so I cough a little.

“Umm A-Alex, I-I need you. I'm s-sorry I didn't mean to, I swear,” Jack is stuttering like a mad man and breathing as if he just ran a marathon. Suddenly I'm terrified, what did he not me to do?

“Calm down Jacky, I'll be just a second.”

“O-okay,” he agrees and I sprint to my car.

By the time I make it to Jacks house I'm a wreck. My mind has begun to spin with the possibilities and tears are threatening to spill over my lashes. Instead of sitting there and wondering, I run up and knock on the door. I stand for about a minute pacing back and forth before reviving a text that says to just come in. I practically kick down the door and make a dash for Jacks room.

As I push his bedroom door open to see Jack hunched over, our promise becomes nothing more than empty words and a lost vow. In his hand is a stained red cloth that I can't tell what the color once was. He is visibly shaking and when he looks up at me he looks completely broken and his face is red and blotchy.

“Oh my god, Jack,” I run up to him and take the towel to see four extremely deep cuts up his arm that most definitely need stitches.

“I-I didn't mean too I'm sorry i swear, I-I...”

“Shut up, it's okay, but we need to get you to the hospital Jack,” I can see Jack's eyes slowly fading and I don't know how much longer he will be able to stay awake, he's loosing a lot of blood. I am more terrified than ever and his skin seems sickly pale.

Jack doesn't bother to argue so I lift him up and run him down to my car. On the way I grab a towel and wrap it around his arm. He better be okay.

**

I hate hospitals. I hate this. I hate that this happened. I hate Jack. No I love Jack. Do I? Have I officially decided? Am I no longer falling but fallen? Even if I do love Jack he can't know that yet because its way to soon and I'll scare him. I don't think I love him yet. Sure I love him a lot more than myself but that really isn't saying much. I love almost everyone more that myself. Why is this so confusing? Can I die yet? I think that'd be easier. God dammit why does this suck so much.

I'm sitting in a waiting room shaking and pacing and sobbing. Anything would be better than this. Joyce and Bassam have yet to arrive, but they're on their way from visiting family in Missouri so they won't be here until the morning. They were a mess, but I didn't exactly lay out what had happened because that's Jacks choice on how to word it. I'm in one of those cold plastic chairs they keep in hospitals, curled up in a ball and picking at the skin on the side of my thumb.

“Alex Gaskarth?” I practically fall out of my chair at the sound of the nurses voice.

“Is he okay?” I breathe out when I reach her side.

“He's fine, but he's asking for you. He's going to have to stay for suicide watch for 72 hours.”

He's asking for me, “Take me to him?”

The nurse leads me into Jack's room where I see him laying limply on the small hospital bed with gauze wrapped up his arm.

“Jack don't you ever fucking do that again!” I scream before falling down next to his bed and slapping his unharmed arm.

“I'm sorry, I really am,” he sounds so sincere, and I can't really be mad at him for this.

“It's okay, if it wasn't you first it'd be me.”

“No, you're the strong one.”

I laugh a little at this, never once in my life have I been the strong one, “Shut up,” I chuckle out.

He smiles back at me, “Just speakin' the truth.”

“Your truth is stupid.”

“You're stupid.”

“Whatever,” I roll my eyes and plant a firm kiss to his lips.

Notes

~Thank you for reading. All feed back is welcome, and i love you guys~

**Also if you have anything you wan to see in this story, let me know**