His phone.
That's what woke him up. That's how he started slowly blinking himself into consciousness.
It took his eyes a while to focus; everything bounced around for a while. But when they did, his brain had a hard time catching up.
Where the fuck am I?
When his vision stopped spinning, he tried sitting up, his head pounding. He held it in one hand, hoping the pressure would relieve some pain.
It rang again.
It had been ringing, but this was the first time he noticed. He reached in his pocket, and pulled out the loud device. He looked at the caller ID.
Mom
He groaned; half from pain, half from force of habit. He answered.
"Hello?"
"Jack! Where have you been?! I only told you to go to the store to get milk! You've been gone for almost two hours!"
Jack rolled his eyes.
And you're just calling now?
"Sorry ma, I just got side tracked a little. I'm on my way."
"Hurry."
Yeah, yeah.
He hung up.
Shoving his phone back in his pocket, he looked down at his hands and realized there was blood on them. He sighed heavily.
Not again.
His eyes watered. And soon, silent tears were falling. He wiped his hands on the leaves, grass, and dirt to get the blood off, and hid his head in his knees as he curled in on himself.
Not a-fucking-gain. Why? Why me?
Why did this always have to happen to him? Why couldn't he just be normal?
He picked himself up off the ground, tears still coming down in full force; small whimpers now coming out. He didn't like crying. Not at all.
Why did he do this to him?
Because you're weak.
He cried more. Quiet sobs coming out.
Stop...please.
He cried harder.
Whose blood was that?
*Laughter*
He collapsed. Curled in a ball, in the middle of the woods, Jack bursted into full on sobs he could not control.
Just like something else.
All he wanted to do was stay there forever, crying until he couldn't cry anymore. But his mother had sent him on a mission to get milk. And he remembered getting it, but when he woke up, there was no milk in sight. He would have to go back to the store, and get a new jug. He picked himself up once again.
Jack handed over a five dollar bill to the cashier. He stared to the floor, uncomfortable with the look the cashier was giving him. After a few seconds, the guy spoke.
"Hey kid, are you alright?"
Jack snapped his gaze up to the man, worry filling both their eyes, but for different reasons.
"Y-yeah. Why do you ask?" He raised an eyebrow, pointing to his own bald head.
"You're head's bleeding."
Jack put two fingers to his forehead, bringing them down, he saw that there was blood on them. He hadn't hurt his head. He just had a headache.
Then he realized; it must have been from when he held his head when he woke up, when there was still fresh blood on his hands. He forced a laugh, putting on a show.
"Oh, yeah, I'm fine." He couldn't come up with a good excuse. "D-do you have a sink I could wash it off in?"
The guy, who still had an eyebrow raised, pointed to the fridge section.
"In the back." Jack nodded his head in a thank you, and took off in the direction he pointed in.
He opened, and closed the front door to his house. His mother was waiting right there in the kitchen for him.
"Jack, where have you been?!" She was practically shouting.
"I told you I got distracted." He put the jug down on the counter, and threw the plastic bag in the trash.
"Distracted by what?!"
"Stuff." He ran up the stairs, b-lining for his room.
"Don't think this is the end of this conversation, young man!"
Slam.