Warning: Jackie hurts himself (cuts)

Chapter 6: Quiet

I awoke the next day to a quiet house. There were no sounds anywhere. Not from the kitchen or bathroom. It wasn't time for Bobby to go to work. Was he still asleep somewhere? "Bobby?" No answer. "Bobby!" I yelled, still no answer. He's gone. Bobby left me all alone.

What was he thinking? I can't walk, let alone climb stairs if I had to go to the bathroom. I can't reach up in the cabinets to get a bowl or a glass. Anything I can do is turn on the T.V. What am I suppose to do if the phone rings? This sucks. My fears are finally confirmed. I'm going to be a couch potato, yee! Not! I hate Bobby. He always done this when I was younger, I thought it was because he didn't like me.

Everyone leaves me. My birth mom died and left me with that mentally abusive father. He physically abused my mom. The cops left me with the nastiest orphanage in Detroit, and they left me with physically and sexually abusers. At school everyone hated me. The teacher would leave the room to go copy something or talk with another teacher and the students would sexually harass or hurt my in some way. Then there was a time I was left completely alone and my adoptive parents wouldn't come back.

Is that what Bobby did? Did he abandoned me because of what I said to him. I know I was right in my argument. It wasn't right or natural to love your brother as a lover. I was also wrong. I shouldn't have yelled at him like I did. I've never yelled at anyone before. That hurt him worse than I thought. My words weren't that harsh but my tone was. He was so use to my soft voice, even when I was mad. Then when he heard that, he didn't know what to do with me, so he left.

I shouldn't have yelled at him. I'm always doing something wrong. Getting into trouble with teachers, being where I shouldn't be, saying something I shouldn't have, or not saying anything at all. It's always something. I hate it. I hate feeling guilty for anything and everything. I felt guilty being born, for what people done to me, for letting mom and the others inside, for getting into drugs, for going out that door, for almost leaving them, for yelling at Bobby, and for being here now. My whole life quilt has haunted me. For nineteen years and I want it to end now.

I got up off the couch. I forced my way up the stairs, holding onto anything to help me walk. I grabbed hold of the rail and slowly hopped up the stairs. It hurt to jump up one step. My right foot would hit the step and that sent a wave of pain to my knee, but after ten minutes or so. I was at the top of the stair case. I limped into the bathroom, closing the door behind me.

I went over to the mirror. I looked at my reflection. I hated what I saw. A pale face with lifeless, dull eyes. A young man who couldn't do anything right, always wrong. Someone who doesn't have a mind of his own, always following someone else. That's how I got shot, I followed Bobby's and Angel's way. If I wouldn't have followed I wouldn't be in pain.

I also saw someone who was filled with so much fear and hate it poured out. A child who couldn't step or say anything before or I would get beat or something sexual. I hated myself. My life is one big fucking mess. People have molded me into a scared, emotional, sensitive, helpless, unwanted freak of a person. I hate it all. I hate myself, I hate everything about me. I'm useless and worthless. The only thing I'm good for is a punching bag and someone's sex thing. I never was good for anything else.

I punched the mirror. The glass broke under the force. I smiled at the pain I caused myself. Pain, I've know it for nineteen years. Pain came with everything, weather it was physical, mental, or emotional, it was there. Everyone feels pain once in a while, but I feel it all the time.

I sat down close the door, the tub against my back. I hate this feeling of being useless and helpless. If that's all I'm capable of then I don't want to live. I've only been happy two times my whole life. One was when I saw my brothers and when Bobby joked at Angel seeing Sofi. In the back of my mind was saying do it, go ahead. End your suffering. Should I just end my life now, but what if it don't work and someone finds me again. The Doctor surly would want to put me in the nut house. If I so succeed then all the pain and loathingness I have foe myself will be gone. But my brothers will be sad. Screw it, I'm doing it.

I grabbed a piece of glass that fell to the floor. I took a deep breath and then let it out. I put the shard to my right wrist. I added pressure down. I slowly moved the shard from left to right. One cut for yelling at Bobby. Two cuts for ignoring Angel. Three cuts for being stupid and getting shot. Four cuts for all the pain I caused people. And five for all the drugs I got into. All the quilt and pain flowed out dark red, from my wrist.

I took the shard in my right hand and did the same thing on that wrist. One for all the pain I caused Evelyn. Two for my weak mindedness. Three for letting my families hurting me. Four for wishing I was never born. And five for wishing to leave this world forever.

My life poured out of me. A smile came to my lips. My head span and I fell onto the floor. The last thing I heard before I passed out was fast paced foot steps up the stairs.

………………….

3rd POV

Bobby walked in the front door after a ten mile walk. He had to blow off some steam from last night, also to think all of what Jack said to him. Jack was right. How he felt towards him was very wrong, Bobby knew that. He hated himself for feeling this way for him. The one thing Bobby didn't count on was Jack yelling at him. He has never yelled before to anyone, for anything. It was so unlike him.

Then Jack said that he felt guilty for what happed, that day. It wasn't his fault. That of have happened anyway. If he didn't answer that door, they would of broken in and killed them all. Bobby couldn't understand why he felt guilty for that, but he understood why he felt guilty when he thought he was going to die. Bobby would have felt that way too if that were him. Hell he felt guilty not noticing what was going on quicker and just leaving him out there.

Bobby walked into the living room hoping to find a sleeping Jack, but he wasn't there. Bobby's heart beat ten times faster than normal. He hated when Jack did this too him. He would always get over panicked and start yelling at him, when Jack popped up. Jack would withdraw and run up to his room.

"Jack?" he asked calmly as he walked into the kitchen. No, Jack. He walked near the laundry room and peeked in. "Jack are you in here?" Panic formed in his voice. Bobby quickly looked into the dinning room, still no Jack. "Jack!"

Bobby ran down the hallway and made a sharp left to the stairs. He ran up them by two. Jack was really starting to scare him. 'He couldn't have gone outside. No, Jack wasn't that stupid. He's probably up in his room changing clothes or something.' Bobby thought. He reached the top of the stairs.

Bobby made his way toward Jack's room, but something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention. He looked down and saw red. Fear filled Bobby's body. He slowly opened the door to the bathroom. The red puddle got bigger. Soon he found a pair of feet, followed by legs then a torso. Jack was laying on the floor unconscious in a pool of his own blood. Bobby looked down at Jack's body to see what was bleeding. He noticed it was his wrists. 'Jack slit his wrists.'

Bobby whips out his cell phone and dials 911. He can't believe jack would do something like this. 'What made him want to do that? His life isn't that bad. If I had anything to do with it, I would get jacks ass back out on that ice.' There was no way in hell was Bobby going to let Jack be a couch potato. He knew Jack needed to be free, do what he wanted to do with his life. He wanted Jack to have that; he wants Jack to be happy. Not depressed.

"Hello?" the voice said snapping Bobby out of his trance.

"Yes. I need an ambulance at the Mercer's house right away. My baby brother, he slit his wrists. Please, hurry!" Bobby hung up after that.

Bobby ripped his shirt into wide, long piece of cloth. He then took them and wrapped them around each wrist tight to stop the blood flow. Bobby sat on the floor with Jack's head in his lap.

He couldn't figure out as to why Jack did that. He couldn't have done it because of last night. Bobby was at fault for saying what he said and what he said either. 'So what did he do it?'

At Hospital

At the hospital, Jack was once again all locked up with I.V.s, blood transfusion, heart monitor, and small tubes in his nose to breathe. He looked worse than before. This time Jack lost over half of his blood. His face was a little sunken in from the lose of blood. Over all this was the worse he has looked when he came in cause of drugs and just two days ago.

Bobby and Dr. Mult stood outside of Jack's room. Bobby had the feeling of angst. He wanted this all to be just a bad dream. He knew Jack wasn't stupid enough to do this to himself. Even if he was, why do it? He has had a good life with them. Not an extremely bad life with them. Maybe it was because of the shoot out.

"Okay let's go over this one more time." Dr. Mult took a short pause. "You went for a walk, while he was asleep. You came home and found him laying in his own blood?" Bobby nodded. "You have any idea as to why he tried to kill himself?"

Many thoughts ran through Bobby's mind. The shoot out, mom dying, their fight (more like listen while the other yelled). There was no way in hell was Bobby going to mention what he said to Jack. "No." He lied.

Dr. Mult wrote something down and his chart. "How has Jack been since we let him out?"

"He's been great. We've done his exercises. He had a few problems with that. He broke out into tears, because of the pain. He has eaten, not much because he was full with in six small bites. He got a shower. His attitude hasn't changed much, except for the fact that he tried to kill himself."

"Um hm." The Doctor walked off without saying anything.

Bobby looked into Jack's room. He still wished it was just a dream. 'Why did he do it? Why and how did he bring himself to do that?' Bobby had a hard time hurting himself back then. It would have taken him six or seven tries before the object made contact with his body. The look of Jack's wrists, he just done it without thinking about it.

Bobby felt guilty for even saying anything to Jack. He should have just kept his mouth shut. He felt like he was reasonable for what happened. Maybe if Bobby never said anything, Jack wouldn't be here now. Bobby couldn't even bring himself to go in his room to hold Jack's hand. He feared to touch him, like his skin would burn his soul.

"Bobby!" Angel called out. Him and Sofi ran up to Bobby. "What happened?"

"He tried to kill himself." Bobby said with no emotion. "He slit his wrists, five times each. I don't understand why he did it? When I left, for a walk, he was asleep. When I came back, I found him in a pool of his own blood."

"Oh, poor Jack!" Sofi ran into Jack's room. She took a seat next to his bed and held onto his hand.

"What's going to happen to him?" Angel asked very concerned.

"I don't know," Tears swelled in Bobby's hazel eyes. "I-I just want him to live. Have his own life, the way he always wanted. I don't want Jack to hate me. I can't take him hating me. It'll kill me."

TBC. Message me and tell me how you think Jack will react to Bobby and how you think Angel and Jerry will react to Bobby in love with jack