The Savior

Chapter Seven

When he got to the park a few minutes later, Mark sat down on one of the benches with a heavy sigh, glancing down at his bandaged arms. He didn't know if he could actually stay strong and not cut, but he had promised his dad. So, he had to at least try.

He couldn't help but push all his hateful thoughts to Jackson, because he was the one that brought him to the hospital. And now he apparently needed to go see a therapist. He didn't want that at all. Not one bit.

"Why can't life go the way I want it to?" He asked aloud to nobody in particular and sighed again, raking a hand through his hair.

He could feel his skin start to itch with that oh so familiar urge, but he tried to ignore it, digging his blunt nails into the palm of his hand, hoping that it would at least help with the urges.

He stayed at the park for a while before getting up and heading home once more, hating it even more when he realized he needed to go to school tomorrow.

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Walking into his house, he nodded at his dad before going upstairs, changing into some basketball shorts and a white tank top. He crawled under the blankets and fell asleep a few seconds later.

He woke up the next morning with a slight groan, hiding under his blanket in order to avoid the bright light shining through his window. He let out a tired sigh and stumbled out of bed, going into the bathroom.

Like he usually did whenever he got up, he opened his cabinet to grab his razor, but froze when he realized that he didn't have a razor anymore.

Growling in frustration, he grabbed a package of soap and threw it against the wall, taking a few deep breaths.

It would be harder than he thought.

Leaving the bathroom after angrily brushing his teeth, he pulled on some clothes and walked downstairs, finding his dad drinking some coffee.

Not really in the mood for talking, he left without eating anything, as usual. He walked along the sidewalk for a few minutes until he heard feet stomping along the sidewalk.

"Mark! Wait up!" A familiar voice said, making Mark remember why he hated that voice.

When Jackson finally caught up to Mark, he panted a little and looked at the red head, noticing that he looked rather annoyed.

"How are you doing?" He asked, a bit timidly because he knew how sensitive Mark was.

"How do you think I'm doing? You took away my only outlet at comfort. " Mark growled out, walking a bit faster in order to ditch the younger male.

"You were only killing yourself, Mark. I wanted to help!" Jackson shouted after the red head, running to catch up with him again.

Mark stopped all of a sudden, to which Jackson stopped just in time to avoid colliding with him. He blinked a little when Mark turned to look at Jackson with cold eyes.

"Leave. Me. Alone." Mark said, voice low and cold before he walked away again.

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Making it to school a few minutes later, Mark walked through the entrance and went to his locker, collecting his things before slamming the locker door shut quite loudly. He ignored it when a few other students jumped and turned to look at him, going towards his class.

Sitting down in his seat, he was determined to ignore Jackson when he walked into the room as well, but unfortunately, Jackson sat next to him.

"Are you ever going to talk to me?" Jackson whispered timidly, almost afraid that Mark would snap again. That would be good.

He chose to ignore him, opting to look out the window before class started. When the teacher finally came in and started class, Mark closed his eyes and rested his head on his crossed arms, letting out a soft sigh.

He felt Jackson move closer to him, but he chose to ignore it until he felt lips at his ear. And what Jackson said shocked him completely.

'You aren't broken, you know? You're beautiful.'