Lullabies (Jalex)

One Hundred Sleepless Nights

*A/N~ I am sorry in advance. I'm also sorry it's taken me so long to write this one. It has a lot of me in it. I wrote most of it just like writing down my feelings. And the recovery part, that's me too. All his feelings are mine.

*Alex’s POV*

I sit up and instantly start to panic once I realize that I fell asleep at Jack’s house.  I reach for my phone hoping to god that it’s not that late.  My stomach drops when I see the time is 2:47.  In the morning.  I was supposed to be home over 4 hours ago.  Dad is going to fucking kill me.  I grab Jack’s shoulder and shake him lightly.  “Jack.  Jack!  You have to get up and drive me home.”  He mumbles something but continues to lay there.  “Jack, get the fuck up right now.  I am four hours late!”  He bolts up and looks at me worriedly.

“Shit, Lex, I am so sorry!  I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It’s fine, Jack.  I just need to get home like now.”  I throw on my sweatshirt and we run down the stairs to his car.

We pull up to my house and I stare at the window.  The light is on, meaning my father is waiting for me.  Jack puts his hand over both of mine and I realize that I’m shaking.  Just what I need right now.  A panic attack.  I can’t breathe.  Jack just pulls me into a hug and whispers, “It’ll be alright, Lex.  Breathe.  Do you want me to come inside with you?”

“No!”  I answer immediately.  You don’t need to see how mad my dad can get.  He kisses my cheek then pulls back and gives me a sad smile.  I climb out of the car and walk quickly to the door but just as I’m about to pull it open, he rolls down the window and calls after me.

“You’ll be alright, Alex.  Text me when you get to your room.”  Then he drives away.  And just like that, I’m alone and terrified.  I shakily open the door and instantly I’m being yelled at.

“ALEXANDER WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN?  YOU ARE FOUR HOURS LATE.”  Ah, so it is one of those days.  “ARE YOU THAT STUPID THAT YOU CAN’T TELL TIME?  GOD, SOMETIMES YOU ARE SO USELESS.  IT’S PATHETIC.  YOU’RE PATHETIC.  GET OUT OF MY SIGHT.  AND TAKE OFF YOUR FUCKING BOYFRIEND’S PANTS BEFORE I KICK YOUR ASS OUT OF MY HOUSE FOR BEING DISGUSTINGLY GAY.”  I just turn and walk away.  Giving any sort of response would just get me yelled at more.

I sit in my room, thinking over what my dad said.  Funny enough, he doesn’t even know I’m gay.  He just thinks it’s a good insult.  He isn’t always like this though.  Some days he’s perfectly normal.  He treats me like I’m a stranger, but he is sometimes funny and joking and sort of nice.  But then days like today, he’s a fucking asshole.  He hates me on those days.  He enjoys taking out all his anger on me.  It used to be Tom that got all the anger and rage and yelling, but he moved out and then it was all me.  I kind of got used to the emotional abuse, and he’s only ever hit me once, though he does threaten to all the time.  He has some control.

He has no idea about my depression, anxiety, cutting, or eating problems.  He doesn’t know that when he calls me things like “worthless”, “pathetic”, “useless”, and “stupid” that I go sit in my room and wish I was never born.  When my head is clear, I know that none of that is true.  I’m not stupid, I’m actually really, really intelligent.  I’m not worthless, I have friends that love me and value me.  I’m not useless, there’s quite a few things that I think I can do pretty well.  I’m not pathetic, I’m strong as hell.  I mean, my anxiety is so strong that I would rather die than get out of bed and have to face people some days, but somehow I manage to force myself through the day anyways.  I have made it through all life’s bullshit up to this point.  I’m not pathetic.  But, when depression sneaks its way into my mind and clouds my logic, that is when I start to believe every negative thing anyone has ever said about me.  And I fall apart.  I am reduced to a sobbing, hyperventilating, shaking ball on my floor, aching for a blade to dig into my fragile wrist.