Dangerous
Chapter Seventeen: No Saving Me
There's no saving me
Too far gone for reasoning
My hands aren't clean
I gave it all to play for keeps
Alex and Jack began to walk home after the outrageous thunder and lightening had stopped, and the rain became less heavier. It was all wet and cold outside, neither of the boys liked it. They both preferred the Summer at Winter and the Winter at Summer. It's rather too hot or too cold.
"I hate the weather when it's like this." Alex spoke through the silence that had led up as they were walking down the street from school.
"Y-Yeah, me too." Jack admitted quietly, looking down at the floor like he usual did. Showing his face to Alex was too much, he didn't want to show it to the world of strangers. Alex smiled, looking forward. The lampposts were already lit with electrical light, showering down onto the never ending street. The sky was a dark orange, beginning to turn completely dim. Alex hugged himself around his jumper, staring down from the sky and back to looking forward. The street still seemed to never end. It's like they were walking on this kind of material that stretches every time you lift your foot up and place it down on it. Expanding street paths.
"Are you alright?" Alex asked after the silence started to make him feel slightly awkward. He turned his head to the side to see Jack with his head down and his hands in his pockets. He saw Jack nod, and then it went back to silence. Alex let a breath out, sticking his hands in his hoodie pockets. He started humming to blink-182.
~~~
"Seeya, Jack." Alex called from his front door as he waved to the shy boy at the front of his gate. Jack waved shortly, walking off after Alex had shut the door. Jack sighed as he began to walk. He was rethinking what had happened today: Alex sticking up for him, Alex punching Jason, him looking up for the first time in years, him shouting once in class, Jack actually talking a lot more. A Hell lot of stuff have happened over one day, and to be honest, Jack was exhausted. He just wanted to get home, hoping not having to cope with his dad when he gets back. He continued looking down at the pavement, keeping his mind occupied with other thoughts.
~~~
"Jack, where the Fuck have you been?!" Jack heard his father scowl from the living room as soon as he opened the door. Jack winced at his tone. He took his shoes off, leaving his bag on.
"Why weren't you at your lessons? Hmm? Skiving were you? You're pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. You know what? Get up to your room. Go!" His dad hissed, placing his fingers on his head, rubbing it to calm down. Jack gulped, quickly running up the stairs and arriving at his bedroom. He walked in, instantly shutting the door after himself. He clasped on his bed, his head hitting his soft pillows. His father's words slipped into his brain again, making Jack feel alerted. He sat up, placing his hands on his legs, looking down.
" You're pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. " Jack thought he was telling the truth. He believed that he was pathetic. Nobody walks around with their head down twenty-four-seven. Nobody stays silent in school. No body cuts their bodies up.
"I'm pathetic." Jack whispered to himself, drawing circles on his legs as tears started to pickle behind his swallow eyes that had no meaning to shine. His fingers that had lightly been tracing circles on his legs were now getting deeper. He sighed, bringing his hand away.
"Can I please go one day? One day without doing that?" He asked the silence. He knew no one would answer back. Because, well, when since has silence got a voice? Even if silence did, it would be reminding Jack that he was pathetic. It would repeat everything his dad or anyone had said about him. A constant reminder.
Jack got up from his bed that he previously sank into and kneeled in front of his bed. He looked under it, seeing loads of childhood games and teddys. He grabbed his teddy that his sister had gave him. Tears spilled over his eyes, silently dripping down his cheek. He looked at the rip in the bear's belly, slowly putting his finger in it. He moved around, trying to find the object.
"Shit!" Jack whisper-shouted. He jerked his hand away, looking at his finger. It had blood forming from a dash that the object created. He wiped his finger on his black jeans, searching through the stuffing in the bear again. As his fingers wrapped around the cool, thin metal he pulled it out. He hated seeing his blade. He also hated the fact that he kept it in the bear his sister had gave him.
Jack was finding it difficult to see through his blurry eyes so he wiped them with the back of his free hand. He placed the blade down carefully on the floor, memorizing where he put it. He lifted his sleeve up, already seeing the cuts he had created. He hated them. They were nothing to be proud of, so that's why he hid them. He had heard about this 'popular' girl who had decided to slice her arm up and the next day she just walked through school, her arm on display. She was shoving her arm in everyone's face, and they wouldn't say "Oh, you're such an emo." like they did to this other girl. The other girl who goes by the name Shannon, hid her scars. She hated them much like Jack. She wasn't really 'popular'. She was known as the geek who sat alone. And then one day, someone found out what she was doing to herself. She was called 'emo'... 'cutter' and 'razor blade' for the whole time she was there. Apparently she had moved to a different school and had stopped her self-harm. It's amazing how the same thing can look so different on different people.
After Jack had added twelve new cuts to his arm, he let out a sob, placing the blade back into the bear. Thoughts of his sister came trembling down into his brain. He missed her to the moon and back, if not, even further. He hated how she had to go that way, but there was nothing he could do now. The past is in the past.
He grabbed a tissue from the bathroom after cleaning his cuts. He caught the blood that still spilt over with the tissue, tapping it lightly against the cuts. He truly hated how he had to be this way.
He got to his bedroom quietly, walking over to his draws, changing into some pajamas. He slowly made his way to his bed, falling down on it. He shifted, pulling the quilt over him. He closed his eyes, waiting for what his dreams hold for him. What his nightmares conceal and conquer.
Too far gone for reasoning
My hands aren't clean
I gave it all to play for keeps
Alex and Jack began to walk home after the outrageous thunder and lightening had stopped, and the rain became less heavier. It was all wet and cold outside, neither of the boys liked it. They both preferred the Summer at Winter and the Winter at Summer. It's rather too hot or too cold.
"I hate the weather when it's like this." Alex spoke through the silence that had led up as they were walking down the street from school.
"Y-Yeah, me too." Jack admitted quietly, looking down at the floor like he usual did. Showing his face to Alex was too much, he didn't want to show it to the world of strangers. Alex smiled, looking forward. The lampposts were already lit with electrical light, showering down onto the never ending street. The sky was a dark orange, beginning to turn completely dim. Alex hugged himself around his jumper, staring down from the sky and back to looking forward. The street still seemed to never end. It's like they were walking on this kind of material that stretches every time you lift your foot up and place it down on it. Expanding street paths.
"Are you alright?" Alex asked after the silence started to make him feel slightly awkward. He turned his head to the side to see Jack with his head down and his hands in his pockets. He saw Jack nod, and then it went back to silence. Alex let a breath out, sticking his hands in his hoodie pockets. He started humming to blink-182.
~~~
"Seeya, Jack." Alex called from his front door as he waved to the shy boy at the front of his gate. Jack waved shortly, walking off after Alex had shut the door. Jack sighed as he began to walk. He was rethinking what had happened today: Alex sticking up for him, Alex punching Jason, him looking up for the first time in years, him shouting once in class, Jack actually talking a lot more. A Hell lot of stuff have happened over one day, and to be honest, Jack was exhausted. He just wanted to get home, hoping not having to cope with his dad when he gets back. He continued looking down at the pavement, keeping his mind occupied with other thoughts.
~~~
"Jack, where the Fuck have you been?!" Jack heard his father scowl from the living room as soon as he opened the door. Jack winced at his tone. He took his shoes off, leaving his bag on.
"Why weren't you at your lessons? Hmm? Skiving were you? You're pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. You know what? Get up to your room. Go!" His dad hissed, placing his fingers on his head, rubbing it to calm down. Jack gulped, quickly running up the stairs and arriving at his bedroom. He walked in, instantly shutting the door after himself. He clasped on his bed, his head hitting his soft pillows. His father's words slipped into his brain again, making Jack feel alerted. He sat up, placing his hands on his legs, looking down.
" You're pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. " Jack thought he was telling the truth. He believed that he was pathetic. Nobody walks around with their head down twenty-four-seven. Nobody stays silent in school. No body cuts their bodies up.
"I'm pathetic." Jack whispered to himself, drawing circles on his legs as tears started to pickle behind his swallow eyes that had no meaning to shine. His fingers that had lightly been tracing circles on his legs were now getting deeper. He sighed, bringing his hand away.
"Can I please go one day? One day without doing that?" He asked the silence. He knew no one would answer back. Because, well, when since has silence got a voice? Even if silence did, it would be reminding Jack that he was pathetic. It would repeat everything his dad or anyone had said about him. A constant reminder.
Jack got up from his bed that he previously sank into and kneeled in front of his bed. He looked under it, seeing loads of childhood games and teddys. He grabbed his teddy that his sister had gave him. Tears spilled over his eyes, silently dripping down his cheek. He looked at the rip in the bear's belly, slowly putting his finger in it. He moved around, trying to find the object.
"Shit!" Jack whisper-shouted. He jerked his hand away, looking at his finger. It had blood forming from a dash that the object created. He wiped his finger on his black jeans, searching through the stuffing in the bear again. As his fingers wrapped around the cool, thin metal he pulled it out. He hated seeing his blade. He also hated the fact that he kept it in the bear his sister had gave him.
Jack was finding it difficult to see through his blurry eyes so he wiped them with the back of his free hand. He placed the blade down carefully on the floor, memorizing where he put it. He lifted his sleeve up, already seeing the cuts he had created. He hated them. They were nothing to be proud of, so that's why he hid them. He had heard about this 'popular' girl who had decided to slice her arm up and the next day she just walked through school, her arm on display. She was shoving her arm in everyone's face, and they wouldn't say "Oh, you're such an emo." like they did to this other girl. The other girl who goes by the name Shannon, hid her scars. She hated them much like Jack. She wasn't really 'popular'. She was known as the geek who sat alone. And then one day, someone found out what she was doing to herself. She was called 'emo'... 'cutter' and 'razor blade' for the whole time she was there. Apparently she had moved to a different school and had stopped her self-harm. It's amazing how the same thing can look so different on different people.
After Jack had added twelve new cuts to his arm, he let out a sob, placing the blade back into the bear. Thoughts of his sister came trembling down into his brain. He missed her to the moon and back, if not, even further. He hated how she had to go that way, but there was nothing he could do now. The past is in the past.
He grabbed a tissue from the bathroom after cleaning his cuts. He caught the blood that still spilt over with the tissue, tapping it lightly against the cuts. He truly hated how he had to be this way.
He got to his bedroom quietly, walking over to his draws, changing into some pajamas. He slowly made his way to his bed, falling down on it. He shifted, pulling the quilt over him. He closed his eyes, waiting for what his dreams hold for him. What his nightmares conceal and conquer.
Notes
Eyyy :D
EEP CUTE HAPPY JACK CUTE ANGRY MOTHERLY ALEX YAAASSSSS
9/22/14