973 Words

POV Jack

The sound ricochets off of the aluminum walls, and through the inner linings of my head. There is nothing. No words, no screams, no crying, and no more pain. It's such a sight to see. There are no more sounds. I cant even hear the sounds of my heart beating anymore.

Is, is this really how it ends? With Mark actually being the reason that I can't take a breath again? I gave mine to him, and the only thing he can spend it on, is worthless tears that he doesn't even want to fall.

I know that he was going to have something to do with everything wrong in my life, but was this really? Everything?

"Jack?! Oh my God, Jack!!"

That day Mark talked to me, when he talked about the reasons why he hates me so much. That's the first time that I think I have ever seen the real Mark Edward Fredbear in my entire six years of living on this accursed life. It was the one time that I actually saw him as a person, instead of a nightmare. He turned into a day dream. I really trusted him. I loved him. But as I said before, it was a day dream, all are harshly awoken by the cruel, and child hating world.

"Open the jaws! Open the jaws! Unhook the SpringTrap!"

I mean, I understand that I'm different, but does different deserve death? I know that that I wasn't meant to be loved, but does that mean I deserve to be crushed to death?

Jeez, where did that come from? I, It just slipped out. I guess a lot of things have slipped out tonight. My anger, that moment of attack, Mark's tears under his mask, and the light slipping out of my eyes, and leaving them to be an empty slate of white, remembering me of the pure soul I once had, but has been clearly tainted by the darkness of others that continue to swallow me.

"What the fuck have you done?!"

I guess none of that really matters anymore. Did it matter to begin with? I mean, I knew I was going to die since the day I was born, but this isn't the way I expected it to go. You know what I mean? I thought it would be through natural causes. I guess hate is a natural cause to some. I know hate has killed Mark's love, Dad's sanity, and my soul. In most families, it's usually something genetic that you have to worry about; but in mine, it's hate. Maybe it is genetic. I know that my mother killed herself out of hate for me. My dad is going to kill Mark for hating me, for hating my mother, for her hating me. And I know I'm about to die because of my dad's inward hate, Mark's hate for me, my mother's hate for me, and Freddy's hate for me. Hate is a much more powerful thing than anything I have ever seen. Clearly.

I, I know I'm going to die. I have uttered these words to myself before, always knowing that in an hour or two, that everything would be okay, but this time, it's clearly different. There is a slow, crawling chill seeping down my entire face. There is a freezing chill bursting through my head, and slowing my heart that I can't hear. I can't even open my eyes. Blood congealing them shut, and the dizziness rendering it pointless to even try to see.  

"BREAK THE DAMN JAW IF YOU CAN'T UNHOOK IT!"

The thought of opening my eyes and being able to see, all seems like a privilege that I'll never see again. There isn't even a point to it now. If I open them, and there isn't blood blocking my vision, do you know what I'll see? A bunch of freaked out people who don't feel sorry for me, but embarrassed for my father, and Mark. Kids from my school that I barley know, and will only remember me for this. Dad with his blue eyes swirling black. Mark with a terrified, broken, frozen complexion. And Mr. Fong shielding Sarah's beautiful emerald eyes with his large hand, and with the other, covering her shrieking mouth. I think I would much rather take the darkness than anything else.  

I know I should be glad to see my family and friends, but they're the entire reason that I'm in the clamed, broken, and malfunctioning shut jaws of an animatronic that I spent my life's devotions to avoid. The one thing I hated, everyone thought I should see for myself. Well, thank. I did get to see him. Up close and personal. I know that I should be forgiving, and realize that they have made mistakes. That's what momma always said anyway.

"Oh my fucking God, get him to the ambulance!!"

But is there even a point of trying to forgive anymore, or is it all just in my head, that I still believe that after everything that's happened to me that I can do anything to even try to wrap my head around anything.  Where do I start trying to understand anything? I mean, I don't even know everything that's happened!

"He's losing too much blood!"

Is it even worth trying to remember anymore? I mean, I'm only six.

"Help him, for the love of God!!"

Oh, wait, am I?

"We're losing him!"

I guess not anymore. It's my birthday today. I'm seven now.

"OH MY GOD, NO! MY JACKY! JAAACK!!"

I guess,

"PLEASE!!!"

This is,

"I CAN'T LOSE MY JACKY!!"

Happy Birthday?

"Pl, please!"

Yeah, this is my seventh birthday! I didn't think I'd even make it this far. But I guess I did.

"YOU DID THIS!!"

Maybe, maybe I shouldn't have.

* ( EDITED ) *