(Mark POV)
After Jack had already left, I realized he'd left his backpack. I grabbed it and chased after him. He didn't seem to hear me calling him. Just when I lost sight of him, I heard the whistle. The one I had given him. My blood ran cold as I ran after the noise.
When I saw some old guy about to stick his dick in Jack, I completely lost my mind. I attacked the man, knocking him down and beating the absolute shit outta him.
But I didn't want to kill him. I wanted him to suffer. I wanted him to beg me to kill him. He disserved it for touching what was mine. I didn't snap out of my rage until...
"Maark..."
Jack... He was okay. I looked over at him.
Blood...
Why is there so much blood?
Is it from the old man?
No...
It's from Jack
He's hurt
He's bleeding
Am I bleeding?
No
Why can't I breathe?
When did I move?
When was I holding Jack?
When did I start crying?
Why isn't he breathing?
Author's note: I'm sorry. I let my sister/editor write this one I had no control over it. But here ya go :<
Editor's note: Muahahahhahahahahahahaaaaaaaaa!!!
That is all