Hey People! I got this one out a lot sooner than the last one! I was reading over this story and it starts out kind of slow at the beginning and it's probably not quite as well written as Leo and Jase, but it gets better as it goes on because I start to pay more attention. I hope you think so too... email me with feedback/suggestions and whatnot! THanks!! I also have a new email just in case you've tried my old one and it come back as unknown..its Jus10AD@sc.rr.com! Hope you enjoy!
Chapter 6
My whole world seemed to fade in and out of reality. Everything seemed foggy, as if I were in a dream. I felt my knees become weak and my body felt like it would shut down. I looked down at the knife as I held it tightly. I hadn't even done anything yet.
Suddenly, the balcony doors in my room swung open and the cold wind blew throughout my room, making papers spin and dance as if they'd come to life. I stepped up to the door and looked around my room, squinting into the darkness. "Someone there?" I said softly. I felt like I was going to throw up and I held onto the knife tightly. I took another step into my room and looked around once more. "JC." I heard a whisper. My head yanked around to see who had said my name, but no one was there. My eyes darted around my room, making my head swim. "Fag." I heard another whisper. "No! I'm not!" I felt the tears build up in my eyes and flow out mercilessly. "Yes you are," the voice hissed, "You're a disgrace." I shook my head furiously, which only made my head pound all the more. "No.No..No.." I chanted. "Yesss." I was sobbing uncontrollably. I suddenly felt a sharp pain in my hand. I looked down to see red covering my hands. I dropped the knife and heard it clatter on the hardwood floor. I felt like I was going to throw up and my legs felt so weak. Within seconds, my legs gave out from under me and I fell to the floor. I laid there with my cheek pressed against the cool wood, staring out at the full moon. The wind was so cold. Too cold. I was shivering violently. Just then, the world faded and blackness consumed me.
"Is he ok?" I could hear a voice asking. The voice seemed to echo in my skull, bouncing off the sides, taunting me. I could feel myself being picked up. I was so cold. "Do you know what happened ma'am?" A man's voice asked. Was I dreaming? "No. I heard some commotion and came in to see what was wrong. And he was. he was lying there," The voice choked. Was that my mother? Was she crying? This had to be a dream. I'll wake up any minute warm in my bed. Why is it so cold? Blackness again.
I awoke some time later. I wasn't cold anymore. I had blankets keeping me warm. My head still pounded though and I felt weaker than before. What is that beeping noise? Please, God, make it stop!
I tried to open my eyes, but the light was too bright. I tried again, and again. As I adjusted to the harsh florescent light, I heard a few voices coming from somewhere. I turned my head in the direction of the voices to see who it was, but my vision was blurry. "Oh my gosh! He's awake!" I heard. Mom? Immediately, someone was at my side, caressing my forehead and cheek. I could see clearer now. It was my mother. She looked so scared and so relieved at the same time. There were tearstains on her face. I gazed up at her and smiled to assure her that I was alright. "Jack, sweetie, are you alright?" She asked in a soft voice that made me want to cry. I nodded my head, which took a lot of energy. It felt like it weighed as much as I did. Then my Dad's face appeared next to my mother's. "Hey, Jack. You're ok." He assured me comfortingly, giving me a nudge in the shoulder. I smiled up at him. They were worried about me. But they wouldn't care this much if they knew. They'd probably have left me there, hoping I'd die. My smile faded and I turned away, not able to look at them anymore. I could tell they were looking at each other in question. "Jack, what happened?" My mother finally spoke up. I didn't move or say anything. I wasn't even sure what happened, but they couldn't know what I was about to do. "Jack, please." My mother pleaded, her voice cracking. She began to cry. I couldn't take that. I turned to her and sighed. I started to say something, but I didn't know what to say. I couldn't possibly tell her that I was about to. well, you know. And I definitely couldn't tell her I might be.
She searched me for some kind of answer. I turned away once more and stared out the window of the hospital room. Rain fell steadily, pounding against the window. Someone came in the room, but I didn't bother looking to see who it was. "I see Mr. Cole has returned to earth." A man's voice broke the silence. Did he have to be so loud? I hated people like that. I still didn't move. He checked the readings on the machines that I was hooked up to and wrote them down on a clipboard. He put the clipboard back into the slot at the foot of the bed and then stepped in front of my line of sight. I didn't look at him, I just stared at his nametag. Dr. Noel Ryan, I read. "Mr. and Mrs. Cole, you mind leaving us alone?" Dr. Ryan asked. My mom and dad left the room, leaving me alone with this stranger. I didn't look him in the face, but I could tell he was staring at me. "So, Jackson is it?" I simply nodded. "Mind telling me what happened?" He asked. He had taken his voice down to a soothing tone. It almost lulled me to sleep. I finally looked at him. He looked to be about 35 or so, I guessed. Dark hair and warm brown eyes. He looked friendly. "I don't remember." I said sullenly. No one could know. "You don't remember, or you don't want to remember?" I glared at him. Ok, I really needed to take drama or something! "I see." He rested his chin in his hand. "I just remember feeling really weak and dizzy. And cold." I finally answered him. He nodded. "And what about the nasty cut in the palm of your hand?" He asked, motioning to my left hand. I looked down at the bandage. I had forgotten about that. "How did that happen?" He asked, his voice not changing. I shook my head as I felt myself wanting to cry. I looked up at him. "A knife." I simply replied. "What were you doing with a knife, Jackson?" "JC." "I'm sorry.. JC." He gave me a questioning look and leaned in. I looked down at my hand again. I shook my head and fought back the tears as best I could. "JC?" He persisted. I looked back at him, the tears running down my cheeks. "I just wanted it to be over." I began sobbing. I couldn't hold it in any longer. "Wanted what to be over?" He asked. He must be a professional at this. Maybe he was a psychologist or something. "The pain. This awful feeling." "What's making you have this feeling?" He asked, putting a comforting hand on my arm. I looked at him, his face somewhat blurred by the tears. I shook my head and turned away, yanking my arm away from his hand. A few minutes later, he stood and walked to the door. "If you ever feel like talking, Jack. I'm just a buzz away." He motioned to the red button on the side of my bed. With that, he exited the room. I let out a deep breath. I can't believe I'd told him. Now he was going to go tell my parents and I'd be sent to a shrink to have my head analyzed. They'd put in a mental institution. I suddenly felt incredibly tired. I stared out the window as the rain pattered on the window. I slowly drifted off into sleep. If only I could sleep forever.
I ended up spending two days in the hospital while they ran test after test after test. Everything checked out normal physically for the most part. Dr. Ryan lectured me about eating once or twice and I promised to make sure I ate three meals a day instead of the one small meal I had been pulling off before. Turns out Dr. Ryan minored in psychology. That explains his ability to get information out of people so easily. He and I talked frequently during my stay, but he didn't make me talk about the incident. He just talked with me about school and things like that. He would sit with me every chance he got, until he would be paged for something. I had grown very fond of him and almost hated to leave the hospital.
Jessy also came and visited a few times. She seemed very sad. After nagging her for like ten minutes, she confessed that she missed me. I think she felt somewhat responsible for my little breakdown, so I told her we'd take it slow and see what happened. She agreed and hugged me. I'd missed the feeling of having her around. I hadn't realized it, but having her hold me like that made me feel safe.
On the day I was to check out of the hospital, my Mom and Dad packed my things up and prepared to leave. They put all the flowers and balloons I'd received in my Dad's Yukon and he was waiting downstairs for me. I put on my shoes and then stood up. Dr. Ryan met me down in the lobby. "Remember, Jack. Eat!" He smiled, nudging me in the arm. I smiled. He held out his hand to shake, but I pulled him into a hug. "Thanks, Doc." I pulled away and smiled. He nodded and smiled back. "You've got my number in case you every just wanna shoot the breeze, right?" I nodded. "You got it." I then turned and went outside. It had gotten colder in the days I had been stuck inside the hospital. Autumn was approaching and the chill in the breeze made that apparent. I climbed into the giant Yukon and we drove back home.
When we got home, I wearily made the trek up to my room where I plopped down on the bed. Why was I always so tired? I turned on my side and stared out the balcony doors at the marshes. Clouds still loomed overhead, but the threat of rain was gone. I heard a knock on the door behind me. "Yea?" I answered, not moving. The door opened and then closed. "Jack?" My mother called softly. She seemed perturbed by something. I turned and looked at her, sitting up. She stood at the side of the bed, fidgeting. "Something wrong?" I asked, concerned by her state. "I don't know, Jack. You tell me." I was surprised by the tone of fear and confusion in her voice. It's amazing how you can tell a person's state of mind by the tone if their voice and the look in their eyes. She looked so tired. Dark circles had formed and she looked like she'd aged just in the few days since the whole ordeal. I shook my head in question. "What do you mean?" I asked. She sighed and took a seat at the edge of the bed. "Jack, what happened? We found the knife that cut you under your bed." I looked away. It must have slid under there when I dropped it. I guess Dr. Ryan hadn't told them after all. She searched my face. "What were you doing with a knife?" She asked. The tone of fear in her voice was deafening. The stabbing of guilt pierced through me. I hated lying to her, or rather withholding the truth, but I couldn't tell her, or anyone. I stayed silent. I didn't know what to tell her. There was no believable excuse that I could come up with. She continued to search my face for an answer. I shook my head. "Jack, What were you doing with that knife?" her voice raised into a shrill tone. She began balling, burying her head in her hands. She knew why I had the knife. I put my arm around and hugged her. "I'm sorry, Mom." I consoled her softly. She looked up at me. "Why would you even consider.?" She trailed off. I sighed and shook my head. "My head's just not in a good place right now," I replied, looking away. "You used to tell me everything, Jack. Why didn't you come to me?" She was almost whispering, trying to mask her fear. "It's just hard to explain. You wouldn't understand." I sighed once again, trying to fight back my own tears for her sake. "How do you know, Jack? I love you, you know that.." "I know, Mom. I know you do." "Then why can't you tell me?" "I just..I just can't." I pulled away from her, hoping she'd get the hint that I wanted to be alone. Lucky for me, my Mom is quick on the uptake. She nodded and stood up. "Just don't ever try to pull something like that again." With that, she turned and left the room. I slid out of my bed and walked over to the doors out to the balcony. I pressed my hands against the glass and stared up at the sky. "I know I shouldn't be asking you for anything right now. But please, God, p lease help me." A single tear rolled down my cheek. I sighed and laid back down in my bed. Sleep consumed me once more.
TBC...