Yeah, this is JPOV of the last chapter with a little before and a little after Alice coming in.
Chapter 28: Every Day
JPOV
Jonathan hadn't left me alone all night. I got no sleep, which didn't help my frayed nerves. I felt like I was on the brink of exploding.
He showed me flashbacks of that night. He judged me and tormented me with the past and his words. He described how he killed them, how he enjoyed it. He said that soon I would snap to his pressure and hurt people. I was so filled with rage and violent thoughts towards him that he played to his argument. He wouldn't stop talking and bringing me back to a past I wanted to leave behind…
I ended up huddled in a corner, hugging my knees into my chest. I knew it was pointless to try and hide from someone who was in my head, but I did it anyway. It seemed like there was nothing I could do, that Jonathan would haunt me forever; he would never tire while I got no rest; I would give in to insanity and let him win once and for all.
Shadows danced under the door. Someone knocked softly three times. "Jasper, you in there?"
Alice…
I didn't want her to see me like this, so broken and wary. I didn't answer her. Jonathan, who was lying on my bed, rolled his eyes. "You're so pathetic," he said with a smirk.
She knocked twice more. "Jasper? It's Alice."
"Like he didn't know that," Jonathan replied. "Seriously," he said to me, "you should have seen your face when you heard her."
I ignored him, which was easier to do when it was just his regular jibes instead of his pushing and the flashbacks. I couldn't make myself make Alice leave; I wanted to see her, but then again I didn't.
"I'm coming in," she said. She sounded worried. After a pause, the door opened. Light flooded into the room; I ducked my head and closed my eyes when it hurt my eyes. There was a minute of silence before she seemed to see me huddled in the corner.
"Jasper?" There was another second of quiet. "Jazz?" The changing light made my eyelids turn from light red to black. The door clicked shut, and slow footsteps could be heard coming closer.
I finally lifted my head so I could look at her. The lines of worry on her face deepened when she saw my face, and sorrow was in her eyes. I hated seeing her with troubles that weren't her own pushing her bright smile away.
"You're so corny, you know that?" Jonathan commented.
"What's wrong?" Alice asked. She sat in the available space between myself and the bed.
"Only a matter of time before she either gets sick of you and your problems or you hurt her…"
I flinched when she touched me. I could never hurt her, ever. Her warmth also made me realize how cold I was.
"Jasper, what's wrong?" So much pain and concern colored her voice that it made my chest tight. I heard my breaths come out shallower and more shaky. I glanced at her from the corner of my eye to tell her what was wrong with me, but seeing her small, innocent face made Jonathan fire off things to scare me about hurting her.
"Please," she urged in a broken whisper, "you're scaring me."
Were tears shining in her eyes? Jonathan said that I would hurt her eventually, but I was bringing her enough pain now with keeping secrets and making her afraid. I was making her cry.
The anger at Jonathan that had built up inside was ebbing away with the onslaught of remorse and pain. It was like we shared an emotional link: when she saw me pained, she was just as hurt, and vice versa. When she was happy, my mood seemed to brighten.
I rested my head back against my knees. "Please don't, Alice, I don't want to hurt you." My voice mirrored hers.
"Then tell me what's wrong," she insisted. "Please."
I took in a breath to try and steady the whirlwind of feelings. When I lifted my head, I didn't look at her – I didn't think I could – and stared at the wall opposite us instead. When I tried to find the words to start with, something to reassure her, the only thing I could think of to say was, "Everything is wrong."
"You look awful." I felt her fingertips brush against my cheek. It was like sitting behind a wall with holes in it while the sun came streaming through: points of warm, comforting sunshine. I closed my eyes and basked in the feeling for a moment. Then my eyes opened, and I remembered that I had a lot to explain to her.
"He wouldn't let me sleep," I replied. My mind automatically went to the night without my permission. The memories of my parents that Jonathan brought up made me cringe.
"Jonathan." It was a statement; I didn't have to look over at her to know that it was an angry one. I nodded in confirmation.
"I hate him," she snarled furiously. "Why does he have to do this to you?"
"I don't know, but I hate him, too," I said.
"Did your therapist figure out any way to make him go away?" she asked.
I shook my head. "Not yet. I know he's trying his best, though," I added in his defense. "It's probably not easy."
She let out some of her frustration in a sigh. "I just wish I could help you," she muttered sadly. She began crying again, but harder than before, and she didn't try to stop the tears from falling. A sob stuck in her throat, and she turned her head away as if ashamed.
My eyes stung. She was suffering now because she couldn't help me. She cared that much. It wasn't that I would hurt her physically – I knew that I couldn't do that – but I was right about hurting her emotionally.
I put one arm around her shoulders and another around her waist to try and comfort her. "Please don't cry," I said with a wasted attempt at keeping my voice even.
She still didn't look at me as she said, "You don't need this right now. I'm sorry."
"Look at me." I wanted to see her face as I spoke to her, see if I did anything to make the pain lessen. "Please?"
She turned back to face me. Tears slid soundlessly down her face from her eyes that were so full of pain and distress. "It's not your fault," I whispered. I brushed her tears away with my hand just as gently as she had touched me earlier.
"I know," she said quickly, "but I just hate seeing you like this and knowing that there's nothing I can do to make it stop…" Her ramble was cut off with more sobs that she couldn't hold back.
I tightened my grip on her and stroked her glossy black hair. "You're doing enough right now."
"What good am I doing," she asked skeptically, "by crying like a baby when things are too hard?"
Didn't she remember what I had looked like when she first came in here? I had probably looked worse before then, too. Her just being in my arms, caring so much in ways I thought no one never would again, was like glue to put my broken heart and shattered soul back together piece by piece.
"You're helping me by just being here," I replied. "And you're not being a baby. You care." My voice broke with the last sentence, along with the dam that kept my own tears at bay. I felt a strange relief with crying; it was like my packed emotions were escaping through the action and leaving me with a lighter feeling.
Alice turned her head to look up at me. Her tears started up again. "I didn't mean to make you cry, I'm-"
"No, don't apologize," I cut in. I paused before confessing, "I haven't cried since my parents' funeral."
I wanted to tell her. I wanted her to know what had happened that night. I trusted her more than anyone, I realized. She would understand, but only if I told her all I could. "It was nine years ago when they were killed," I began.
Realization dawned on her face at my opening line. She said nothing and waited in a patient silence for me to tell her. And I did. I told her everything about that night. When I asked her once if she wanted me to go on after she flinched, she just nodded and waited again for me to go on.
When I was done, Alice rested her head against my shoulder and let her fingers brush along the back of the hand that was around her waist. Her touch made me relax and close my eyes to enjoy it like before. "That feels nice," I said with a faint smile. When I opened my eyes again and gazed down at her, happiness was back in her eyes.
"I'm glad I told you," I said, letting my small smile widen. "It feels like a weight's been lifted off of my shoulders. I'm glad you know."
"And I'm glad," she replied cheerfully, "that you're glad you want me to know." She grinned up at me, and I returned it.
I saw something move over by the door. When I looked toward it, I was only slightly surprised that Jonathan had stayed. He was leaning up against the wall beside the door, staring at me. "Bad move," he said. "You shouldn't have told her."
"That's not your choice," I countered in my head. "I'm happy that I told her."
"She'll use it against you somehow," he argued.
"No she won't. I trust her."
"Is it Jonathan?" Alice asked. I didn't answer her so I could stay focused on him.
"You shouldn't trust her."
"Again, it's not your choice."
"But I know things, much more than you know."
"Not about this. Alice is…" I couldn't find a specific word to describe her. "She's Alice. You don't know her like I do. You don't see her the way I do."
"Love causes bad judgment."
"Just… just leave!"
He was about to say something, but before he could, he disappeared. Just up and vanished into thin air. I felt my face change into an expression of surprise. Was this a trick? I glanced around the room for him, but he wasn't anywhere to be found.
"What is it?" Alice asked curiously.
"I think… I think I made him leave." Happiness grew inside of my chest at the thought. Had I really beat him? He wouldn't have left in silence, or so suddenly.
"What do you mean?" she asked in confusion.
"He just – left! I told him to go, and he was about to say something, but he disappeared!" I grin spread across my face, the happiness leaking out. Laughter bubbled up and came out of my mouth. "I think I've finally beat him."
A smile turned into a grin on her face. "Really?" she said excitedly. "This could all be over?"
I let out a relieved sigh. "If not, it's a start."
Alice threw her arms around my waist. "Yes!" she squealed in delight.
I leaned my head back against the wall and let out another little laugh. My head felt lighter, as if Jonathan was something tangible in my brain that was removed. It was freeing.
My eyes slipped closed. The sleepless night crept up on me in waves of exhaustion.
"You must be tired," Alice said beside me. "I'll go so you can sleep."
"No," I replied quickly. My eyes came open again with some effort to look at her. "Don't go."
"I don't want to keep you up," she insisted. "You've been through a lot. Come on." She stood up in front of me, which made me shiver with the sudden lack of warmth. I groaned in protest.
"Get up," she commanded. The last thing I wanted to try to do is get up. I groaned again.
Alice sighed and took one of my hands in both of hers. "Come on." She heaved, but I stayed mostly on the floor. "You could help a little," she said. She yanked again, and I made just enough effort to get me to stand upright.
I swayed unsteadily on my feet. Alice led me over to the bed before she let me fall over and collapse onto my back. I made sure there was room beside me. "Sit with me?"
She complied and sat up against the low headboard. "Now get some sleep," she ordered."
"Yes ma'am." My eyes drifted shut. A sudden tickle went across my arm as Alice drew patterns onto my skin absently. A faint smile twitched at my mouth.
Before sleep pulled me under, I opened my eyes again. "Alice?"
Her eyes, which were staring at but not seeing her finger tracing things on my arm, focused and went to my face. "Yes?"
"Thank you," I slurred. "I don't think I could have done any of this without you."
She smiled. "You're welcome, Jasper."
My eyes closed again. I focused on the feeling of her light touch as I slipped away. My sleep was finally peaceful.
Now we all know what went down. All includes me, because sometimes I don't really know what's gonna happen until I type it all up.
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