Bully || Septiplier

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I'm sorry I'm sorry
I'm so r  r    y

AND WTF 17K??? <3 Woah I'm getting famous

AlsO follow Lila2242 , Sunfreckle and PoodleFawn ! If I don't see each of them with at least 30-40 followers I'm not writing the next chapter 😈 They're all great writers so go ahead and quickly follow them before you read <3 thanks

Also also the fic is soon coming to an end so be prepared :'(
I'll probably go up to about 30 chapters
But shhh, you're getting no spoilers on how it ends :^)

JACK knocked on the cold surface of the door again, for about the third time in the past collection of minutes. Worry and guilt and panic flooded through his system all at once, and it was to say the least tiring. He kind of wanted to give up, because it was obvious that nobody intended to answer, but he couldn't - something was wrong, and he was damn well determined to know what.

But why was he at Mark's house at four in the afternoon? Well, let me backtrack a few hours;

It started at the beginning of the day. Jack walked into the school, just as he would any other day. Jack walked in strong and confident and ready to give no fucks about everybody, even if he secretly did, but when he arrived and there was nobody waiting at his locker - or at Marks locker, at that - he ended up being taken over by worry. Needless to say, for the next combination of hours he wasn't himself. Usually Mark was there waiting for him, but the reminder that today he wasn't - and that, more importantly he wasn't particularly safe with his mother - brought him to the end of himself.

He tried texting Mark at lunch, to no avail. Nobody at school seemed to care about what Mark was doing, nobody heard from him, and hell - it was as though the redheaded boy had just disappeared from everyone's lives. It was both fascinating and nerve wracking with how he could just disappear from the face of the earth so quickly, and even more so with how nobody but Jack seemed to really care.

Jack was scared. He knew, he fucking knew who Mark's parents could turn into - and all day, he knew something wasn't right. It had been eating at him slowly, like maggots across a rotting corpse six feet under. The split second the bell rang at the end of the day, Jack had rushed over in a certain direction, and he only realized when he was halfway there that he was headed towards Mark's house to make sure he was okay.

But now, standing in front of the huge wooden door with the shadow of the house falling over and devouring him, Jack realized how scared he actually was. What if Mark's mother did something to Jack? He knew it was unrealistic, but he was still scared shitless - the only reason he was still standing before the door was the urge to make sure Mark was alright.

He knocked again, fist sore and throbbing against the wood, but he was still defiant against the silent treatment. The car was in the driveway, the lights were on, but they were just.. ignoring him. He wasn't having any of it, however.

Eventually, though, - around the seventh pounding - his tough-guy attitude ebbed away. The air was growing cold against his pale, thin frame, and he cast an unsure glance to the front window again, covered by blinds.

And then he allowed his blue gaze to drift up, up toward the sky and the second storey of the house. An idea popped into his mind when he saw the window to Mark's room - it wouldn't be easy, but it would get him to see Mark and if that wasn't encouraging enough, it was a declaration of love. ..Right? Or was it just insanity?