I Walk a Fine Line [16/20]
Title: I Walk a Fine Line [16/20]
Author: Alice: 23a_j10
Pairing: Jack/Alex
Rating: R
Warnings: OCD behavior, mental illness, and self-harm.
Summary: When the only thing Alex believes in is killing him and the only thing Jack believes in is love can the two save each other from their unhealthy and unrealistic lifestyles.
Disclaimer: I don't know/own All Time Low or claim this is at all true.
POV: Alex's this chapter only
A/N: If you've been reading the story from the start I hope you can read a difference in Alex. Also I've finished my course now, and plan to finish this in the next month or so. Thank you for sticking with it, it's literally been a year since I stopped writing this and it's insane to think people are still reading it.
MASTERPOST
I don’t know what I was expecting when I woke up in hospital. My head was swimming and my stomach was cramping. I haven’t been able to thank Zack. I remember everything that happened, until I passed out. Until I opened my eyes to a headache inducing, florescent light ceiling and realized I’d fucked everything up again. I regret not speaking to Jack, and telling him that I was sorry. Because I was, and I am still am sorry. I wish I could have told him everything was going to be okay, but I’m glad I didn’t, because nothing’s okay now. I haven’t seen him in three weeks and five days, but in two days I’ll be free, I can see him again. I hope.
My parents and Lucy tell me it’s for my own good, they tell me I’ll get better here, with medication and people looking after me all the time. Scheduled meal times and structured days, that’s important, or so they say. It hurts my head because when you’re allocated time to eat, or take a walk outside, the last thing you want to do is that. But everyone around me keeps telling me that a month’s stay at this dammed Wellness Centre will fix me. I know that I’m not something you can fix, I believe in nothing, and nothing safe, because when you put your faith in something you’re setting yourself up for a downfall you can’t stomach. But I won’t fall at all because I’m nowhere, and when I end nothing will remain.
I’ve never told anyone but Jack that secret, that I know I’m the only one who exists. But my parents found my journal the day I was brought here, and now that’s all anyone can talk about. I couldn’t tell anyone because I knew this would happen, I knew they would tell me I’m crazy, for believing in something which has no proof. Religion is all this is, a belief and faith that I am everything and nothing.
They don’t take kindly to you trying to make yourself feel better in this place. They much prefer to hold you down while you choke on a panic attack. They made me cut my nails the first night after I started reopening recent lines on my arm. They don’t understand here, at all. I don’t feel “well” here and I’m not “better” because there was nothing wrong. I just made a bad decision, and that was it. But I know my own sub conscious too well, and I know where to nod my head in the right places, and say that I realize my mistakes now. I know how to lie and say that I’ve seen my through the delusion, thank you very much. I smile nicely and tell them that I don’t feel sad anymore, or anxious, or like I want to slash my arms to pieces. I don’t know if they believe me, but they smile back and mark sheets with my name on top with ticks in little boxes.
Three weeks and five days isn’t a long time when you’ve been alive for seventeen years. It isn’t really long enough to know someone inside out, or for them to make you think differently, like Jack did. People here keep telling me it’s okay to think about Jack, and it’s okay if I’m sad about what happened. Then they say that I shouldn’t obsess over him, or get depressed over what happened, because it isn't healthy. I’m trying to keep up with all this information that I’m drowning in and my mind has figured out a simple way to fix that. I’ve made a friend for myself in here, and he keeps me sane. I told the staff I made a friend, and they were pleased, but I don’t think they realized how literally I meant it.
Sean has just turned sixteen in this place, but he’s older in his head and when he speaks I can almost hear my head creating the words for his mouth. But strangely enough, I feel better when he’s around and he doesn’t question my belief or disapprove once. But I guess that’s because he’s a part of me, of my thinking. I guess.
We sit outside a lot, I like to look at the sky and pretend that I don’t exist. It’s comforting to be reduced to feeling like nothing, when all you can see is the expanse of something you can’t really begin in imagine the depth or vastness of. Sean likes being outside too, or he says he does and sits with me anyway. He says he’s here because he feel in love and I don’t understand, but maybe I do because maybe that’s why I’m here too. But I don’t believe in love, not like Jack does. I can’t.
Sean says that everyone’s fucked really; we’re just the ones that got caught by being too careless. He tells me to be more careful from now on because if I can pretend that everything’s okay, sometimes things turn out that way and that’s what’s happening to him. He won’t tell me what, but that’s okay. He doesn’t know about Jack either. And it’s hard not to talk about Jack because I need to tell him how sorry I am. I need to explain to him why I left that night and what happened. I think that there’s an exception to every rule, Sean says that too. And Jack is the exception mine. I don’t know how, or if it’s possible but I have faith that Jack is real, and I am too.
Sometimes I can feel the pills working inside me and it makes me feel sick that my mind is being tampered with. It clouds my thoughts at first and then I don’t feel as much anymore, but it’s nice to have space in my head, without continuous lists rolling through or double checking for something out of place all the time. The itch beneath my skin has lessened, and I don’t almost choke to death each time I can’t have what I need. I still feel the buzz pulsing through my veins but it builds up to nothing and slowly disappears without a release, and I feel strangely lucid after times like that.
I told Sean yesterday that I would miss talking to him about sanity and religion while sitting under the sky. He laughed softly and told me I couldn’t miss what wasn’t real and that’s the first time I thought about my family. I felt something inside me when I thought of parent’s faces, their tone of voice and desperate expressions. I told the staff this and they smiled like they were proud of me, and I went to bed confused and dreamt about my parents and Lucy in church while choir boys sang I stood at the podium and told them they weren’t real. I woke up and felt more than I had in weeks, and I wasn’t sure how much I wanted to go home anymore.
But two days and I’ll be home and I’ll be in school. I’ll be a student again and my parent’s son again. I will miss Sean, and I’m sorry that he couldn’t be real too, I told him this and he smiled a really bright smile and asked if he could hug me. I looked at him incredulously before looking back up at the sky. Before we went back inside, after we’d brushed down our clothes I put my hands on both sides of his face and then hugged him with both my arms around his neck. He felt solid, and safe, I could feel his breathing as he huffed a laugh out against my ear.
“If I figure this out, will you be part of me?” I asked him, and he said,
“If you figure this out you’ll be a part of everything.”
Author: Alice: 23a_j10
Pairing: Jack/Alex
Rating: R
Warnings: OCD behavior, mental illness, and self-harm.
Summary: When the only thing Alex believes in is killing him and the only thing Jack believes in is love can the two save each other from their unhealthy and unrealistic lifestyles.
Disclaimer: I don't know/own All Time Low or claim this is at all true.
POV: Alex's this chapter only
A/N: If you've been reading the story from the start I hope you can read a difference in Alex. Also I've finished my course now, and plan to finish this in the next month or so. Thank you for sticking with it, it's literally been a year since I stopped writing this and it's insane to think people are still reading it.
MASTERPOST
I don’t know what I was expecting when I woke up in hospital. My head was swimming and my stomach was cramping. I haven’t been able to thank Zack. I remember everything that happened, until I passed out. Until I opened my eyes to a headache inducing, florescent light ceiling and realized I’d fucked everything up again. I regret not speaking to Jack, and telling him that I was sorry. Because I was, and I am still am sorry. I wish I could have told him everything was going to be okay, but I’m glad I didn’t, because nothing’s okay now. I haven’t seen him in three weeks and five days, but in two days I’ll be free, I can see him again. I hope.
My parents and Lucy tell me it’s for my own good, they tell me I’ll get better here, with medication and people looking after me all the time. Scheduled meal times and structured days, that’s important, or so they say. It hurts my head because when you’re allocated time to eat, or take a walk outside, the last thing you want to do is that. But everyone around me keeps telling me that a month’s stay at this dammed Wellness Centre will fix me. I know that I’m not something you can fix, I believe in nothing, and nothing safe, because when you put your faith in something you’re setting yourself up for a downfall you can’t stomach. But I won’t fall at all because I’m nowhere, and when I end nothing will remain.
I’ve never told anyone but Jack that secret, that I know I’m the only one who exists. But my parents found my journal the day I was brought here, and now that’s all anyone can talk about. I couldn’t tell anyone because I knew this would happen, I knew they would tell me I’m crazy, for believing in something which has no proof. Religion is all this is, a belief and faith that I am everything and nothing.
They don’t take kindly to you trying to make yourself feel better in this place. They much prefer to hold you down while you choke on a panic attack. They made me cut my nails the first night after I started reopening recent lines on my arm. They don’t understand here, at all. I don’t feel “well” here and I’m not “better” because there was nothing wrong. I just made a bad decision, and that was it. But I know my own sub conscious too well, and I know where to nod my head in the right places, and say that I realize my mistakes now. I know how to lie and say that I’ve seen my through the delusion, thank you very much. I smile nicely and tell them that I don’t feel sad anymore, or anxious, or like I want to slash my arms to pieces. I don’t know if they believe me, but they smile back and mark sheets with my name on top with ticks in little boxes.
Three weeks and five days isn’t a long time when you’ve been alive for seventeen years. It isn’t really long enough to know someone inside out, or for them to make you think differently, like Jack did. People here keep telling me it’s okay to think about Jack, and it’s okay if I’m sad about what happened. Then they say that I shouldn’t obsess over him, or get depressed over what happened, because it isn't healthy. I’m trying to keep up with all this information that I’m drowning in and my mind has figured out a simple way to fix that. I’ve made a friend for myself in here, and he keeps me sane. I told the staff I made a friend, and they were pleased, but I don’t think they realized how literally I meant it.
Sean has just turned sixteen in this place, but he’s older in his head and when he speaks I can almost hear my head creating the words for his mouth. But strangely enough, I feel better when he’s around and he doesn’t question my belief or disapprove once. But I guess that’s because he’s a part of me, of my thinking. I guess.
We sit outside a lot, I like to look at the sky and pretend that I don’t exist. It’s comforting to be reduced to feeling like nothing, when all you can see is the expanse of something you can’t really begin in imagine the depth or vastness of. Sean likes being outside too, or he says he does and sits with me anyway. He says he’s here because he feel in love and I don’t understand, but maybe I do because maybe that’s why I’m here too. But I don’t believe in love, not like Jack does. I can’t.
Sean says that everyone’s fucked really; we’re just the ones that got caught by being too careless. He tells me to be more careful from now on because if I can pretend that everything’s okay, sometimes things turn out that way and that’s what’s happening to him. He won’t tell me what, but that’s okay. He doesn’t know about Jack either. And it’s hard not to talk about Jack because I need to tell him how sorry I am. I need to explain to him why I left that night and what happened. I think that there’s an exception to every rule, Sean says that too. And Jack is the exception mine. I don’t know how, or if it’s possible but I have faith that Jack is real, and I am too.
Sometimes I can feel the pills working inside me and it makes me feel sick that my mind is being tampered with. It clouds my thoughts at first and then I don’t feel as much anymore, but it’s nice to have space in my head, without continuous lists rolling through or double checking for something out of place all the time. The itch beneath my skin has lessened, and I don’t almost choke to death each time I can’t have what I need. I still feel the buzz pulsing through my veins but it builds up to nothing and slowly disappears without a release, and I feel strangely lucid after times like that.
I told Sean yesterday that I would miss talking to him about sanity and religion while sitting under the sky. He laughed softly and told me I couldn’t miss what wasn’t real and that’s the first time I thought about my family. I felt something inside me when I thought of parent’s faces, their tone of voice and desperate expressions. I told the staff this and they smiled like they were proud of me, and I went to bed confused and dreamt about my parents and Lucy in church while choir boys sang I stood at the podium and told them they weren’t real. I woke up and felt more than I had in weeks, and I wasn’t sure how much I wanted to go home anymore.
But two days and I’ll be home and I’ll be in school. I’ll be a student again and my parent’s son again. I will miss Sean, and I’m sorry that he couldn’t be real too, I told him this and he smiled a really bright smile and asked if he could hug me. I looked at him incredulously before looking back up at the sky. Before we went back inside, after we’d brushed down our clothes I put my hands on both sides of his face and then hugged him with both my arms around his neck. He felt solid, and safe, I could feel his breathing as he huffed a laugh out against my ear.
“If I figure this out, will you be part of me?” I asked him, and he said,
“If you figure this out you’ll be a part of everything.”