Stockholm Syndrome (Jalex)

Day Twenty Seven

Day Twenty Seven - Jack. 4:48

"Jack, why are you still awake?" The dining room light flickered on as Cassadee's tired figure appeared in the doorway, her face complete with a mildly concerned look as she pulled her gaze over my body curled up in a chair and shaking just a little more than wouldn't be noticeable.

"I can't sleep." I let out in response, drawing in a huge breath of air, wondering if my lungs would collapse from an over intake of oxygen - I could always try. I wondered what it would have been like if it was I, and not Alex who'd died. After all, that was how it was originally meant to be, and who knows, perhaps it was meant to be that way for a reason.

"You have to at least try." She let out a sigh; it was clear she didn't want to be dealing with me like this but of course Cassadee was far too nice of a person to just leave me. "There's no way you're going to fall asleep there." She chose to point out the absolute obvious.

"I don't want to sleep, Cassadee." I met her gaze, taking in the confused expression I received in return. "I can't." I emphasised, wondering if she had it within her to just leave me the fuck alone, but since this was Cassadee, I could just about entirely cross out that possibility.

"Why not?" She furrowed her brow, sitting down in the chair opposite me and holding my gaze in a way that made me want to throw up everywhere.

This was fucking killing me. But just not well enough.

"Is it the house? Are you not used to it or..? I know I'm not exactly asking you to sleep in the most comfortable place either but Jack you have to try. You can't stay awake forever - you'll go mad." She chose the wrong statement to accompany with an air of light-heartedness, because really this was the one that hit the hardest of them all.

"I think I'm already mad." I threw my gaze upwards, fascinating myself with the emptiness of her ceiling and generally drawing myself away from her reaction entirely. "It's not that bad. I'm coping... I think." I think. Yeah, that was just borderline downright lying but the question of my moralities was the least of my problems right now.

"Jack, the only thing that's mad is you saying that." Her response came forcefully this time, completely and utterly determined in the fact that she'd walk away from this argument victoriously.

"That fits though, doesn't it?" I met her gaze, no longer concerned with the reaction I was bound to receive, and after all, this was all just inevitable when it came down to it. "The ramblings of a madman leave his lips."

"Not always." She insisted, perhaps just to be increasingly difficult, who knows.

"Mmm..." I mumbled in a disbelieving response, not at all convince by the standard of argument she was putting up.

"You're not Alex, you do know that right, Jack?" She leaned forward a little, suddenly growing far too concerned for my sanity's liking at all. She shouldn't care - perhaps then it'd be easier.

"Sometimes I think I'd like to be." I admitted, wondering how much easier it would be to be just so clever and free from emotion. Alex had carefully engineered himself into the brain of what to me seemed to almost be a superhuman.

"Why?" She exclaimed, seemingly unknown to my motives as I had expected.

"Because I don't want to feel a thing, not anymore." I let out a sigh, wishing I could just tear and rip the emption away, but that just wasn't how it worked and I hated that.

"Jack, there's nothing you could have done, his death, it's not your fault-" She began to proclaim, but I couldn't let her continue, because with every word that left her lips came the heightened risk that I may begin to believe her.