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"Why are you here Mark?" Jack snapped.

The gun he held wavered in his hands, pointing it at me. I slowly lifted my hands into the air, hoping it would calm him.

Inside, my nerves beat like a drum.

My brain was screaming at me, telling me to run or I was going to die.

But my heart told me to stay, looking at Jack I think my heart was right.

He was pale, bags under his eyes. His eyes were blood shot, and his face was covered in tear stains. He was shirtless, revealing multiple healing scars on his wrist, along with multiple new ones.

My gaze drifted to the floor, seeing drops of blood with a razor blade next to them.

I stepped one foot closer to him, to have him step one foot further back in the bathroom.

"This gun has one bullet in it, Mark. I wasn't planning on using it on you." He shook his head.

"Jack, listen to me. This isn't what you want to do. You don't want to shoot me, or yourself. You're just confused-"

"Fuck I am! I know exactly what I'm doing, and you need to leave, Mark! I'm doing this because I need too. Hell, I would have probably died once my parents got home anyway! Their perfect angel got into a car crash, and they need someone to take their worry out on!" He yelled, new tears making their way down his face.

Wait, the bruise on his leg, the 'fight with his neighbor', his dad being so forceful.

"Jack, are your parents-"

"Beating me? Fucking me over like a slave? Calling me worthless and a disappointment of a son? If you're asking me if my parents give me what I deserve, then yes."

I tried to step a foot closer, seeing him lower the gun slightly as he talked. He quickly pulled it back up, stepping backward again.

"Jack, you're not worthless or a disappointment. You have so many people that care about you. Hell, look at my sweatshirt, I had it with me all during my game."

Jack glanced at my sweatshirt, then back up at me.

Suddenly he stumbled a bit, almost falling. I'm guessing it was because of how deep he cut.

He needed to lie down and bandage his cuts, but at this point, he wouldn't willingly do that.

"Jack, put down the gun. You need to relax. You don't deserve to die. You're a wonderful, thoughtful person. You put on a smile just to make other people happy. Yes, sometimes you hurt people, but you don't do it because you want to. You do it because you can't act out on your parents-"

"Don't you wish you could too, Mark? With everything you went though? Not even having a childhood? Losing and having to bury your best friend at 14? Getting beat up and called names everyday?"

My mouth opened slightly. "Marzia told you..."

"Don't you?!"

"No! No, I don't Jack. You know why? Because it's selfish. I was having a rough patch in my life, having no friends, nothing to live for back then. If I would have killed myself when I wanted to, then I wouldn't have met you, or Felix, or Marzia, or Wade or Bob! I would've missed out on joining the soccer team and finally finding something I enjoy that doesn't cost money, to hear my parents say that they cant afford it. It would have been selfish towards myself. I would've deprived myself of all the good memories yet to come. If I wouldn't have had Felix that one night when I literally had the rope tied to my fan, then I wouldn't be here right now Jack."

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