AUTHOR'S NOTES

Trigger Warning. This is a one-shot fic that was inspired by one of Tokio Hotel's songs and a past experience of mine. It isn't as long as I wanted it to be and I usually write chapters that are around 3k to 4k words. This time, I just let my hands do the talking. HiccupXJack

Jack isn't going to come over this time, I knew that for a fact. I glanced over at the clock and it said 11:30 pm, what was I doing waiting for him anyway? I destroyed our relationship over and over again so for sure that he wouldn't want to see me after all of that. The sound of the rain clouded my whimpers and tears, I was just so confused. I didn't know what to do anymore. For the 10th time today I checked the peep-hole, silently hoping that he was outside but he wasn't. I sighed and slid down to the floor. My place was engulfed in darkness with only the moon as my light.

I closed my eyes recalling the house that I had when I was younger. It was empty and broken just like how I am. If Jack hadn't found me when my dad was beating me up then I wouldn't be alive anymore. At first, he didn't want anything to do with me so he told me that he would send for the authorities soon but then when he saw me sleeping so soundly in the couch, he just couldn't do it so he decided to take me in. Sometimes when I look back, I often kept thinking whether or not it was something to be thankful for since I was nothing to anyone. I had problems that no one nor I could understand. I could hear voices inside my head that told me what to do and I obeyed them even if I didn't want to. Often times, Jack would find me sleeping with a knife beside me or he would find me hiding under the bed. As my actions made him worry each and every waking moment of his life, he offered to take me to a psychiatrist.

I went to the specialist every week in order to make Jack happy and all I wanted was him happy. She gave me prescription drugs in order to make the people inside my head go away. It failed though, when the psychiatrist didn't want me to be her patient anymore because she couldn't bear to listen to my hysteria. Jack then brought me to a healer of some sorts, he told me that the man was his close friend and that I should trust him so I did. I thought that this person was finally some one that could understand me and the voices. I talked to him three times a week, more than what Jack had in mind. The healer told me that if I bleed, I'd release all of the pain that I was feeling. He handed me a knife and instructed me to cut myself. I hesitated at first, questioning him whether or not Jack would approve of my actions and he assured me that it will make him very pleased with me. It stung at first but after a few more times, I took a liking to it. I didn't understand why the healer didn't want me to show Jack the scars so I hid it from him.

Everything was good. As time passed, our friendly relationship grew to become something more. Jack was a good boyfriend and he never forced me to do anything that I didn't want to do. He would cuddle me and tell me that everything was going to okay, I was going to be okay. One night, I didn't notice him stroking my arm until he stopped at my wrists. It was the first time that I saw him get mad at me and it wasn't a pretty sight. For the first time, I was scared. I told him that the healer said that it would make him happy. I regretted telling him that since it only made him yell louder. Since that time, I never saw the healer again.

Cutting became a habit that I couldn't stop. I kept razors inside my pockets, my jackets and pillows but Jack would always find them. He would always find out whether or not I did it and he would scold me if I did. I assured him that one day I will be okay and that he should stop worrying. That was the moment when I noticed how stressed he was. Lines were appearing at the sides of his eyes and his forehead, his usual grin turned a bit sadder every day and he would sigh often. I started taking the drugs given to me before again, thinking that it might help me.

It did for a while because I started seeing the same bright smile that Jack had before. He loved me and I loved him. Our lives couldn't get any better. My cutting habit slowly lessened until I finally stopped. This made our relationship stronger since he didn't have to worry too much about me anymore. I was finally normal in his eyes even though he insisted that I've always been normal to him from the start but you know that that's what people say when they love you. I always stayed inside the house because I was afraid of going outside even though Jack would always try to get me going but I always refused. Yes, I wanted to go but I was just so clouded with fear. One day, I did agree and that was when one pill became two.

Two then became three and so on and so forth. Before I knew it, I was addicted. Jack didn't notice it until he saw me chugging down the whole bottle. That was the first time I saw him cry. He was beautiful even if he did look like a mess. He hugged me and told me that he loved me but he was tired and I could see it. He was tired of always worrying and stressing about me. He couldn't eat or sleep properly out of fear that if he didn't keep his eyes on me then I would do something stupid. I didn't remember anything after that. I didn't know that that was the last time that I would see him.

I cried for hours. I returned to my habit of cutting mixed with my addiction. Never have I thought that he would leave me but he did. Everything he told me about us were lies. I fed myself on his promises and lies. I yelled, I screamed and punched everything that I could, and here I am now.

I snapped back into reality and saw what I've done. The curtains were torn and the couch was destroyed. Fragments of the vases and glasses were scattered all over the floor. Jack isn't going to be happy when he sees this. He'll be so pissed at me. I started thinking of every scenario of him reprimanding me but then I remembered. He wasn't coming back. I let my tears spill as I scratched the bloody mess on my arm. I've cut deeper than what I had intended but I didn't care. Jack wouldn't see it anyway. He wouldn't care anymore because he didn't love me anymore.

I stood up and checked the clock. Midnight. The rain didn't stop pouring but I couldn't hear it touch the ground because of the silence in my mind. Bending down, I picked a piece of broken glass from the floor and tracing my finger to see how sharp it was. I once believed him about me being fixed but right now, I felt like nothing ever happened. I was still broken. The psychiatrist, the healer and Jack, all of them told me that time will heal the pain that I've experienced. I've been waiting but it seems like it will never come even if it did take forever. That one day that I've dreamed of, the one day where I could finally be free from the screams inside of my head were nothing now because that day never came.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"My…my name is Jack…my..my boyfriend he…"