Jack was the kind of happy that he was able to infect those who saw him smile like a disease-he was the kind of irresistible happy. He smiled a lot and laughed a lot and made jokes a lot and had people laugh at his jokes a lot. Jack was a lot of things, and 99% of those things, I'm sure, would concern his happiness and other people's happiness. Basically everything that involved joy and merriness and laughter and smiles and everything frilly and flowery (not really) and undeniably happy.
Jack was the kind of charming that he was able to get things done the way he wanted them. He was the kind of charming that despite his constant noise and happy-go-lucky attitude that should have gotten the teachers furious, did not. In fact, they loved him. He was also the kind of charming that his mother would never scold him for sneaking out late at night or returning home at dawn. He was the kind of charming that people believed and hung and clung onto every word and sentence and phrase and gibberish that came from his mouth.
Jack was a liar, too. A great one, to be honest. He was the kind of liar whose mom believed that he'd gone to Joe's house for a school project, but instead had gone all the way to Santa Monica for a beach party he'd invited the whole high school to. Jack was also the kind of liar who convinced people was happy.
He was the kind of liar who slashed his thighs and wrists and watched blood flow down the perpetual white tiles lined as his bathroom floor. He was the kind of liar that when his sister had knocked on the door because of what sounded like his crying (which rarely did because he was, well, happy), he'd convinced her that he had only been watching a movie, you know the one about that dog and the owner? Yeah, that one. And she believed him because, well, he was convincing like that. So she shut the door and he cleaned his thighs and washed the floor holding the shower head with his shaking hand. Why wouldn't it stop shaking?
Everyone liked Jack. The only one who didn't like Jack was himself.
YOU ARE READING
For The Moon
Teen Fiction“the saying ‘i love you to the moon and back’ doesn’t seem so precious now, does it?” he asks, she shakes her head. but he does anyway; he loves her to the moon and back (and so does she).
