Decadence(1/?)
Title: Decadence
Author: denyyourfate (this chapter) & ittbittyriddle
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Zack Merrick/Jack Barakat/Alex Gaskarth, and a bunch of side pairings.
POV: 3rd POV
Summary: Three teens are about to embark on a journey to face the demons they so desperately tried to avoid.
Warnings: Mental illness, mentions of child abuse, cutting, stuff like that.
Disclaimer: This is fake and I don't own anyone!
A/N: Well, this is a pretty deep story. I don't know if we got in over our heads, but I promise this will be good.
Masterpost
--
Zack Merrick
Zack used to be normal. He knows this because he remembers the times he used to be carefree. Times where he would drink and party till the sun came up.
He doesn't do that. Not anymore.
He could tell you the exact moment everything changed. He was 17 when his world turned upside down. Thinking back on it, he swears he was dumb for never realizing the consequences of his and others' actions.
Because of that fatal mistake, he can barely function like a normal human being. After the incident, he has been plagued with millions of thoughts and his neuroticism has skyrocketed.
Every single day starts with him waking up and cleaning his room for hours. During this he starts the hand-washing. The hand-washing that happens practically every hour, on the hour. He doesn't leave the house much anymore, either. Last time he tried was when he drove his car. Every pothole he hit in the road made him get out of the car and check if he had hit someone. It got so bad that he was never on time when he was going somewhere.
His parents pulled him out of school after it got that bad. He doesn't blame them; he could barely learn because his mind was on all the germs crawling in that area or the fact there was an odd number of desks in the room. Everyone thought he was a basket case whenever he would voice his thoughts.
Maybe he was a basket case.
While he is staring at his hospital bracelet ID, he might even agree with them. After all, It was just 2 days ago when he tried to commit suicide.
He had counted out the exact amount of sleeping pills he was going to take. He had arranged them in one long row before swallowing them, one after another. He made sure he had placed his letters to his mom and dad in clear sight and laid himself on his bed carefully. When he had shut his eyes, he had been certain they'd never see daylight again.
He had been wrong. He had failed. Again.
The first time he had failed was when his best friend died. Zack had watched him lay on the ground, blood pouring from his stomach. Zack had tried to stop the bleeding, but it was no use. He didn't know how many times he had whispered 'I'm sorry'. Chase had been pale and breathing shallowly, and his eyes had met his, conveying a silent message. 'It's okay.'
It wasn't okay. Chase died on the floor. The EMT's had pulled him away. His hands had been covered in blood and he was not registering that Chase had truly died. He refused to believe it.
Zack now knew there was no point denying something that had already happened or was going to happen. It only makes the realization of the truth so much harder.
That's why when his parents had told him he was getting sent to Sunnyside Hospital, he didn't care. The worst had happened already and he just couldn't seem to be allowed to die.
--
Jack Barakat
Jack knew he was doomed from the start. His mother had been bipolar and his father had a few mentally ill people on his side as well. It didn't mean he didn't try to fight the diagnosis.
When the mood swings became intense, he ignored it. Who cares if he didn't sleep as much as he should? Or that he would feel depressed after feeling incredibly untouchable? What teenager wasn't sleep-deprived or emotional? It was normal.
His parents didn't think too much of it either.
Not until he crashed their car into a tree on the side of the road. He had been speeding, practically doing a 100 miles per hour. That night he felt like nothing could touch him. He was invincible; he was a god.
The falsity of this had been shown that night afterwards. He had ended up with a few cracked ribs and had needed stitches on his chin.
"I don't know why you're acting like this." His dad had been disappointed.
His mother had fixed him a knowing stare and said the thing he didn't want to hear. "I think we should go to a psychiatrist."
When they went, the diagnosis they had hoped against was confirmed. He was bipolar.
His mother had tried to talk to him about it one on one, but he brushed her off. He wasn't mental.
When his meds came, he refused to take them. His parents tried to plead with him but he told them to 'fuck off'.
They weren't getting through to him so they decided to send him to Sunnyside Hospital. When he found out, he had been boiling with anger. He'd called them all sorts of vulgar things but they stood their ground. They'd looked at him with sad eyes and said it was for his own good.
Now here he was, getting sent away to a place full of crazy people. He was sure he didn't belong there.
--
Alex Gaskarth
Alex had been a normal, popular, teenage boy. He had the grades, car, friends, money, and more. Now he was known as the crazy kid who thinks he's 7 people.
These people had made their appearance after his uncle had reappeared, and started living with his family. There was something about his uncle he didn't like, but he didn't know why.
There had been times where he would lose track of how he'd got there, how he knew things, and what he was doing.
He'd chalk it off as a lapse in attention, but the periods started getting longer. He would wake up the next day with no recollection about what he had done the day before.
Alex had also started to find notes around his room.
Notes in handwriting that could not have been his. Notes saying cryptic things such as 'We are here to protect you' and 'You'd be nothing without us'.
It started to freak him out, so he had asked his parents if he could talk to a therapist. When he had gone and described what had been happening, the therapist had looked shocked and called in a specialist. He had talked to the man and had then been told to call his parents to come, saying it was urgent. They had arrived looking frazzled before they were asked to sit. The complexity of Alex's issue was brought to light when the specialist had diagnosed him with Dissociative Identity Disorder.
Alex couldn't believe it. How could he have multiple personalities? There was no way.
So he went home and locked himself inside his room. He grabbed a notebook and positioned himself on his bed. He wrote out a simple 'who are you?'
Time had elapsed when Alex looked at the clock.
When he studied the notebook he was stunned. The handwritings on the page were varying. There was childish writing, cursive, fine print, and others. All framed the big bold letters: "WE ARE YOU".
It freaked him out more the longer he stared at it. He couldn't take it anymore so he flung it to the other side of the room.
He decided he wasn't normal. He shouldn't be around his family. Who knows what these other people in his head could do. So he decided to end his life.
He had sat in the tub with the razor. He pressed it against his wrist and dragged it sharply across. The blood streamed down his wrist and swam in circles around his feet. He felt something tugging him back in his mind and then he was gone.
When he came back, he had apparently stumbled to his parents, saying he had tried to kill himself. He hadn't done that. Alex was sure of it.
Nevertheless, his parents and him had agreed that he should go to a treatment facility. They had both decided Sunnyside Hospital was the best; there would be other teens like him.
He could at-least feel slightly normal there.
Author: denyyourfate (this chapter) & ittbittyriddle
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Zack Merrick/Jack Barakat/Alex Gaskarth, and a bunch of side pairings.
POV: 3rd POV
Summary: Three teens are about to embark on a journey to face the demons they so desperately tried to avoid.
Warnings: Mental illness, mentions of child abuse, cutting, stuff like that.
Disclaimer: This is fake and I don't own anyone!
A/N: Well, this is a pretty deep story. I don't know if we got in over our heads, but I promise this will be good.
Masterpost
--
Zack Merrick
Zack used to be normal. He knows this because he remembers the times he used to be carefree. Times where he would drink and party till the sun came up.
He doesn't do that. Not anymore.
He could tell you the exact moment everything changed. He was 17 when his world turned upside down. Thinking back on it, he swears he was dumb for never realizing the consequences of his and others' actions.
Because of that fatal mistake, he can barely function like a normal human being. After the incident, he has been plagued with millions of thoughts and his neuroticism has skyrocketed.
Every single day starts with him waking up and cleaning his room for hours. During this he starts the hand-washing. The hand-washing that happens practically every hour, on the hour. He doesn't leave the house much anymore, either. Last time he tried was when he drove his car. Every pothole he hit in the road made him get out of the car and check if he had hit someone. It got so bad that he was never on time when he was going somewhere.
His parents pulled him out of school after it got that bad. He doesn't blame them; he could barely learn because his mind was on all the germs crawling in that area or the fact there was an odd number of desks in the room. Everyone thought he was a basket case whenever he would voice his thoughts.
Maybe he was a basket case.
While he is staring at his hospital bracelet ID, he might even agree with them. After all, It was just 2 days ago when he tried to commit suicide.
He had counted out the exact amount of sleeping pills he was going to take. He had arranged them in one long row before swallowing them, one after another. He made sure he had placed his letters to his mom and dad in clear sight and laid himself on his bed carefully. When he had shut his eyes, he had been certain they'd never see daylight again.
He had been wrong. He had failed. Again.
The first time he had failed was when his best friend died. Zack had watched him lay on the ground, blood pouring from his stomach. Zack had tried to stop the bleeding, but it was no use. He didn't know how many times he had whispered 'I'm sorry'. Chase had been pale and breathing shallowly, and his eyes had met his, conveying a silent message. 'It's okay.'
It wasn't okay. Chase died on the floor. The EMT's had pulled him away. His hands had been covered in blood and he was not registering that Chase had truly died. He refused to believe it.
Zack now knew there was no point denying something that had already happened or was going to happen. It only makes the realization of the truth so much harder.
That's why when his parents had told him he was getting sent to Sunnyside Hospital, he didn't care. The worst had happened already and he just couldn't seem to be allowed to die.
--
Jack Barakat
Jack knew he was doomed from the start. His mother had been bipolar and his father had a few mentally ill people on his side as well. It didn't mean he didn't try to fight the diagnosis.
When the mood swings became intense, he ignored it. Who cares if he didn't sleep as much as he should? Or that he would feel depressed after feeling incredibly untouchable? What teenager wasn't sleep-deprived or emotional? It was normal.
His parents didn't think too much of it either.
Not until he crashed their car into a tree on the side of the road. He had been speeding, practically doing a 100 miles per hour. That night he felt like nothing could touch him. He was invincible; he was a god.
The falsity of this had been shown that night afterwards. He had ended up with a few cracked ribs and had needed stitches on his chin.
"I don't know why you're acting like this." His dad had been disappointed.
His mother had fixed him a knowing stare and said the thing he didn't want to hear. "I think we should go to a psychiatrist."
When they went, the diagnosis they had hoped against was confirmed. He was bipolar.
His mother had tried to talk to him about it one on one, but he brushed her off. He wasn't mental.
When his meds came, he refused to take them. His parents tried to plead with him but he told them to 'fuck off'.
They weren't getting through to him so they decided to send him to Sunnyside Hospital. When he found out, he had been boiling with anger. He'd called them all sorts of vulgar things but they stood their ground. They'd looked at him with sad eyes and said it was for his own good.
Now here he was, getting sent away to a place full of crazy people. He was sure he didn't belong there.
--
Alex Gaskarth
Alex had been a normal, popular, teenage boy. He had the grades, car, friends, money, and more. Now he was known as the crazy kid who thinks he's 7 people.
These people had made their appearance after his uncle had reappeared, and started living with his family. There was something about his uncle he didn't like, but he didn't know why.
There had been times where he would lose track of how he'd got there, how he knew things, and what he was doing.
He'd chalk it off as a lapse in attention, but the periods started getting longer. He would wake up the next day with no recollection about what he had done the day before.
Alex had also started to find notes around his room.
Notes in handwriting that could not have been his. Notes saying cryptic things such as 'We are here to protect you' and 'You'd be nothing without us'.
It started to freak him out, so he had asked his parents if he could talk to a therapist. When he had gone and described what had been happening, the therapist had looked shocked and called in a specialist. He had talked to the man and had then been told to call his parents to come, saying it was urgent. They had arrived looking frazzled before they were asked to sit. The complexity of Alex's issue was brought to light when the specialist had diagnosed him with Dissociative Identity Disorder.
Alex couldn't believe it. How could he have multiple personalities? There was no way.
So he went home and locked himself inside his room. He grabbed a notebook and positioned himself on his bed. He wrote out a simple 'who are you?'
Time had elapsed when Alex looked at the clock.
When he studied the notebook he was stunned. The handwritings on the page were varying. There was childish writing, cursive, fine print, and others. All framed the big bold letters: "WE ARE YOU".
It freaked him out more the longer he stared at it. He couldn't take it anymore so he flung it to the other side of the room.
He decided he wasn't normal. He shouldn't be around his family. Who knows what these other people in his head could do. So he decided to end his life.
He had sat in the tub with the razor. He pressed it against his wrist and dragged it sharply across. The blood streamed down his wrist and swam in circles around his feet. He felt something tugging him back in his mind and then he was gone.
When he came back, he had apparently stumbled to his parents, saying he had tried to kill himself. He hadn't done that. Alex was sure of it.
Nevertheless, his parents and him had agreed that he should go to a treatment facility. They had both decided Sunnyside Hospital was the best; there would be other teens like him.
He could at-least feel slightly normal there.