Jack's POV

The year and a half after the crash was horrific. The worst period of my life. It had been perfect for a few weeks after the crash though. Alex and I had been closer than ever. Closer than before the crash at least. It wasn't until Alex met Jennifer about 5 weeks after the crash that things started to go downhill. They got really close; you could say they were best friends. Alex started hanging out with her more than me, and Alex and I were still dating at that point. She got overly jealous whenever we hung out alone and she wasn't invited.

One day, she started on me. She screamed at me, said that Alex was her's, said that I was worthless. She told me she loved Alex and that the only reason Alex had denied her when she'd asked him out was because I was forcing him to go out with me. She told me that she hated me. I said that the feeling was mutual. She'd laughed. I'd laughed. She slammed me in the jaw and I'd punched her cheek bone. She'd screamed out and run away. I hated her even more after that.

Then one day in mid-August, she kissed him. And he didn't stop her. In fact, he'd kissed back. And they'd ended up having sex on our sofa. And I'd caught them when I can home from work. She wasn't even sorry, even though both Alex and I were crying our eyes out. She just said that it was an accident and sat there and watched as my relationship crumbled in front of me. Alex was nice about it, saying that it has his fault and that I didn't deserve a guy like him. I said I was sorry that he'd done it in the first place and that even though I still loved him, I didn't trust him then. He'd cried, said he understood, and that he still loved him. He said that he knew I wouldn't believe him, nor did he expect me to, but he hoped that I'd forgive him someday. I'd told him that I couldn't tell him if that was possible. We'd cried more and Jennifer had just sat there, smiling. I'd stormed out, moved back in with my parents. Alex hadn't spoke to Jennifer for weeks, but then suddenly they were dating. It broke my heart, like the incident had. I couldn't bear to look at them. They would be everywhere I went, forcing me to slip into a place I'd never been before.

I started self-harming. I dragged whatever I could, across wherever I could, without it being obvious. My parents didn't know, didn't need to know. Alex knew though. I hadn't told him, but he would look at me funny if I saw him soon after I'd drawn blood. It was like he could tell, like he'd been there when I was doing it. I cut because he 'knew' too. It hurt too much to see him. I didn’t blame him, I loved him. I blamed her. I blamed Jennifer because she didn't have to kiss him. I hated her. I hated myself. I hated myself because I was the one to volunteer to do extra hours that day. I didn’t have to do that. If I hadn't, if I'd left work at the normal time, I would have got home before she'd even arrived.

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I was lying in bed, clothed only in a thin pair of boxers with a large, empty bottle of Jàger in my hand. The blinds created faint lines of light over the bomb site that was my room. It was my own place. After living away from home with Alex all those months ago, I couldn't live with my parents anymore. I'd moved out almost instantly, to this pig sty. I hadn't left in days, weeks, I didn't know. I was constantly groggy, my vision a wavering flag in a hurricane. I was neither conscious nor unconscious. I was just there. I didn’t answer the door or my phone. To the outside world, I was dead, a numb excuse for a wasted human. I was drunk most of the time, only ever leaving my room to vomit in the bathroom. I was a worthless shit without anyone. Without Alex, I was a mess. He was my only anchor to sanity and he'd left me for a fucking slut.

I was busy squandering in self-pity when the phone rang. I kept telling myself not to answer it. It would just be a cold-caller. But my legs moved me out of my room anyway, to the lounge, to the phone. It was still ringing. I looked down at it. The noise made my head hurt. In a rash decision to make it stop, I picked it up and brought it to my ear slowly.

"Hello?" I managed to squeak. The line was silent for a second.

"Hi, this is Doctor Evans, from Greater Baltimore Medical Centre. Is this Jack Barakat?" A male voice said. I started to panic. Last time I was in hospital was... when I had the accident with Alex.

"Yeah, this is Jack. Why are you calling me?"

"It's about your friend, Alex Gaskarth." I scoffed. I didn’t care, refused to care.

"What about him?" I replied, my voice void of any emotion what so fucking ever.

"He's just woken up from a small coma after another car accident that happened just outside of Towson a few days ago. He is demanding your presence. His girlfriend, Jennifer Atkins, is here but he's refusing to see her. He requests you." The doctor explained. This is bullshit, I thought, Alex wouldn't want to see me.

"What if I refuse to come to the hospital?" I spat.

"Well, erm, I'm sure Mr Gaskarth would be very upset and he'd probably continue to demand your presence," The line went silent and then he said, "Erm, I've just been informed that Alex wishes to speak to you now, to make sure that I actually called you, I suppose. I'll pass you to him now."

"NO-" I began. Then he spoke. It wasn't the Alex I had grown used to.

"Jacky...?" Alex whimpered, "Jacky? What's happened? I, I don't know what's going on. There's, there's this girl here, cl, claiming that I'm her b, b, boyfriend, but I'm your boyfriend, r, right?" He sounded helpless. My heart lifted for the first time in months. He'd forgotten her. But he'd remembered me.

"I'll be there soon, Lexy. I promise." I said, and hung up.

Notes

I hope this chapter gives you a little more hope as to the future.
i wrote this over a few days and I've redrafted it loads so I hope you like it.
It's kind of a little back story as to what happened, seeing as Alex can't remember for fuck.
Enjoy!

Love
Abby
<3