Jack. Day Seven - 14:26

The events of last night had confused me entirely and I almost thought I had turned schizophrenic overnight when I woke up cuddled into Alex's side on the sofa in the main part of his house. By the main part I mean the liveable in part, the part that has furniture instead of chains and shackles, along with proper lighting and dear lord, running water.

Running water had been something I'd spent the past week without, and only now did it dawn on me as to how much I missed regular showers: spending hours under a stream of burning hot water and letting your thoughts take control, whilst belting out Disney songs and getting far too much shampoo in my eyes to avoid a possibility of blindness.

It occurred to me that I actually hadn't had a shower since I'd arrived here, which was pretty much a week by now, and I was beginning to feel pretty disgusting, but that didn't take away the fear I had of asking Alex to let me, of course.

The fact that he was allowing me to sleep curled up to him in a decent room was more than astounding- or maybe this was just a coincidence, maybe he'd shout at me, I was too scared to take a peek at his face, so I hadn't a clue if he was asleep or not, and I resorted to lying here like a sitting duck. Jack Baraquack. I made a pretty shit duck if I was honest; I haven't even got a beak. Beaks are essential.

"Jacky, I know you're awake." He whispered in a playful tone, and for once, when I say playful, I don't mean murderous playful, I mean actually playful. He actually sounded happy for once, which was a surprise in itself; his capacity to actually express any emotion was another one that shortly followed.

I didn't even think Alex and playful meant anything other than a mass genocide with extra gore and blood, but you know what? When it comes to Alex, I think I like to be surprised, especially now I'm into the incredibly optimistic habit of expecting the worst.

I groaned, rolling out from where I was nudged into his side and looked up into his eyes. His eyes were warm, his eyes were perfect and they prepared me for what he could possibly be about to say next, because I hadn't a clue at all. He could tell me to fuck off, get out, throw a string of insults at me, fuck he could even hit me, or even shoot me, or fuck-

"It's near enough half past two, in the afternoon!" He ran his fingers through my messed up bed hair; not a sight I particularly wanted him to see, but really, I hadn't an awful lot of choice in the matter. I didn't expect him to criticise me on my late awakening; my hair, my hygiene, my lack of personal space, my weight breaking his sofa maybe, but my lie in? This was becoming far too normal for my liking.

"Mmm.." I stretched out across the sofa, trying to hide my utter state of awe as I began to take in my surroundings. "I'm aware." He really was lying when he called this place 'humble', but really, I supposed it rather fitted, this house being just as humble as he was. Alex Gaskarth was just the epitome of modesty.

The room was practically made of marble; the shiny rock coated the walls, counter tops, coffee tables, you name it - I wouldn't be surprised if he was wearing marble underpants. A silver chandelier hung from the ceiling with horribly realistic looking artificial candles, or at least I hoped they were artificial, because I really didn't like the chance of this place being carelessly set alight. No, they had to be artificial; he would have accidentally shot them by now and burned the whole house down otherwise.

"You slept like you haven't slept in days," he chuckled, but I didn't, because really, it was true - I hadn't slept in days. I had barely gotten a wink of sleep in this place; I just didn't trust it, and I had a more than valid reason not to, and this valid reason was now cuddling up to me on his sofa. However, I this valid reason seemed to be causing me to fall in love with him, and if that wasn't troubling, then really I don't fucking know what is.

"I haven't." I pulled myself up, leaning my back against the sofa and pressing my feet against him. His eyes widened; was he really that innocent to human needs, did he really not comprehend that we needed sleep to stay alive, only with light, food and water - these were the bare minium to keep lungs pumping and hearts pumping, let alone keep my sanity, and he'd deprived me of pretty much all of them. It was typically Alex, because quite typically, he didn't quite grasp it. I wasn't sure whether to blame him or not, but a part of me almost felt guilty if I did.

Alex was so oblivious he was almost inhuman; he had this sort of separation from the rest of us, it was like he grew from the same sapling, but was now an entirely different plant. I wondered if he'd grow elsewhere from birth or if he'd gradually been tearing himself away from the rest of us as he grew up and slowly came to realise as to just what life had in store for him, what life had in store for everyone.

"You need sleep, Jacky." Oh, so he does get it. Fascinating, but I don't want to believe, I don't want to think he could possibly be doing this on purpose; he's Alex, he's my Alex. He's my Alex Gaskarth, my serial killer, my psychopath, my kidnapper, my monster under the bed, my valid reason; to not trust anyone, to be scared, to sleep with the nightlight on, to not judge books by their covers, and to stay alive.

"It's rather hard to sleep when you're chained to a concrete wall." I half snapped at him. I had originally intended to snap at him full pelt, show him what it felt like to be deprived, but I couldn't quite manage it, my voice softening almost immediately, because I was almost in love with Alex and I couldn't quite handle that either.

Being in love was weird and a concept I'd rather not dwell up, but I constantly found myself doing nothing but that; mainly because Alex was the only thing running through my head on a constant basis, and really thoughts like that just came with Alex. Alex brought questions like that with him, he opened up doors in my head I had forgotten even existed; he was clever, but that wasn't the reason now. The reason was that I wasn't clever; I wasn't clever enough to stop him.

"Oh." Was his only response, before we sat in silence for several minutes, my eyes fixated upon him, but my thoughts elsewhere entirely. I liked to wish myself away from situations as often as possible, because really nothing was awfully good about reality, about right now, about me, about this.

This was all so confusing; I didn't know why he hadn't killed me off already, because I was being much more difficult than any of the others would have been. I bet none of the others got into the position I was in now, I bet none of them even survived this long - I wanted to ask him, I wanted to be reassured I was special, but I didn't have the guts, I could never have the guts, and maybe I think that was why I was still alive, or maybe Alex liked to play games, maybe he liked my emotions and maybe he loved manipulating them. I shouldn't let him, but I couldn't help myself. I wasn't clever enough, I'd never been clever enough, because I'd drank the drugged beer, one drink and that was all.

I liked to think that Alex was a walking enigma, some sort of magnet that just attracted people to him and that this somehow wasn't my fault, but really, it very much was and there really wasn't anything I could do to remedy that.

Alex pulled me closer to him and put his arm around me, after what seemed like ten minutes had passed. I jumped at first, startled by his sudden show of affection and was worried that we were going to have a rerun of our incident from a few days ago. Thankfully, we weren't, because Alex wasn't stupid and Alex knew that actions like that weren't going to get him anywhere.

Maybe he just needed teaching; maybe he had forgotten what humans were like, humans that weren't so shit scared of him to show needs or emotions. So maybe I just had to tell him, teach him even. When I was little I quite fancied being a teacher, but this certainly wasn't what I had in mind; teaching a psychopath what it was like to be human was no kid's dream.

"I'm sorry."

I shivered at first, apologies were weird, and apologies weren't Alex. I looked at him with widened eyes and he grinned at me. "I meant it." But did he really? Fuck, was I going to be stupid; was I going to believe him? I hadn't a clue, I hadn't a fucking clue. I wanted to believe him, because it was easier to pretend that everything was okay, but I knew I really shouldn't, because trusting Alex was like signing your own death certificate.

I trusted him regardless.

Hello death row.

"Thank you." He grinned and leaned in, giving me a small peck on the cheek. I couldn't help but blush; I really liked it when Alex kissed me, despite how much it made my insides churn, it was good, it felt good, it felt real.

"I don't want to even move today." He groaned; this was something I was thankful for, because not moving meant no weapons, no rape, no psychopathy, nothing but us on this sofa together, and maybe then I could feel real. I could feel like Alex and I were just two normal guys that were in love, not a psychopath and his victim, both waiting far too hesitantly for one of them to snap and the inevitable murder to occur.

Murder being an inevitable factor was never a situation I would have dreamed of occurring, but really I wasn't quite that messed up to be dreaming of things like that, well at least not yet anyways, give me another week with Alex and we'll see- hey, I might even be asylum worthy by then.

I liked being with Alex, but I didn't, because the more I sat with him, the more aware I become of the inevitability of the murder, my murder. I was going to die someday, someday soon and only he knew then, and if that thought didn't frighten me, then I didn't know what else would.

Alex really should frighten me, but he doesn't really, well not anymore and that should be the fact that scares me, and still it doesn't, because I'm far too comfortable with Alex, I'm far too close to Alex, and maybe just maybe, I'm far too in love with him too. I never reckoned myself to be the hopeless romantic type though. I never reckoned myself to be kidnapped though either. I'm a bad judge of self-character.

"I don't want to move either." I grinned at him, leaning my head into the crook of his neck - thankfully, he didn't seem to mind, he seemed to be rather enjoying my a little bold advances actually, and that made me smile far much more than it would make any sane person. Any sane person would have at least tried to make a run for it by now, but I was actually rather content in my kidnapper's arms, watching his pistol sit on the table, vaguely pointed in my direction; I'd gotten far too used to guns recently, I'd even started to look at them like Alex did, as nothing more than just objects.

No, Jack - they're killing machines.

They kill people.

They could kill you.

Like Alex. But strangely enough, I'm not afraid of Alex either.

Alex grabbed the TV remote off the arm of the sofa and turned to me, "that's perfect, we can just sit here and watch a movie." I grinned at him. "Sound good?" This was all too normal, but I really didn't want to complain, not now, not all, because he could be point a gun at my skull or a remote at a TV and I knew which one I preferred.

Here's a hint: it's not the former.

"Yeah." I began to twiddle my thumbs, "yeah, it does."

This was all weird, simply because my brain took no hesitance in reminding me that Alex was in fact a psychopath, and I had just agreed to watch a movie with him, but whatever I was far from caring. You know what, maybe this wouldn't be as normal as I was expecting maybe he'd put on Saw or something like that and then decide we should act it out or something equally as psycho- Alex.

Suddenly, the TV cut into my thoughts; the news channel, bearing the words I'd never expected to hear. "Missing person, Jack Barakat-"

Fuck. I couldn't breathe.

Alex had slammed his finger down onto the off button as soon as the announcer had opened her mouth. Maybe I didn't blame him, maybe I did.

I didn't know how to react, I just sat staring hopelessly at the blank screen, almost willing the TV to come back on; I didn't know how to react, and quite frankly, I didn't think Alex did either. This would be a first, but despite my earlier musings, it wasn't one I wanted to encounter, not at all.

I looked at him through concerned eyes; his gaze was fixated onto the blank screen, for once his eye vacant and expressionless. That's when I began to panic, because his eyes were what saved me, his eyes were what brought me back, his eyes were what made me fall in love with him and now they're gone. I miss them, I miss the eyes.

"I'm sorry." I didn't know why I was apologising, but it just felt right - it felt like the only thing to do, the only thing I could do. I shouldn't be the one apologising, but my mouth could push out no other words, and this had to do, this did it some justice.

"I didn't need you to see that." His voice came out like a madman's; frantic and raspy to the point I felt like his vocal cords would snap entirely. "I didn't need you to think that they care more, that they love you more, that they need you more, because Jacky," he turned his ravenous gaze onto mine, "listen to me, Jacky - they fucking don't." I was rather scared, but you know what overpowered that? How scared I was for him. And that's what's seriously concerning- my whole life now is seriously concerning, so honestly I don't see what the fuss is anymore.

I pulled him closer to me; it was a mad idea, but everything was mad. I felt like I was in Wonderland, but with considerably more marble. "Shh... Lex. I know. I know you do." Lex? I had no idea where that had come from; the darkest reaches of mad probably, but it was fine. I was okay, I didn't mind as long as Alex was okay.

"No, Jacky." He was blubbering into my shoulder now - a human freak show, a wreck. "You could never know, you could never ever know how much I need you." He looked me dead in the eye, "this is wrong, I shouldn't have kept you locked up in that room ever, but I did this all just to ensure that i could keep you, because-" His voice cracked as he choked out a desperate sob. "I can't manage without you, Jacky. You make it all worth it - all the deaths, everything." Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He couldn't just say that! Does he not even-?

I felt sick. "Alex, I love you too, but please I don't want- I can't be accountable for those deaths, they're on your hands, Alex. They always will be." It was harsh okay, but I couldn't put it any other way.

"Shut the fuck up, whore." He spat at me with filth and I instantly knew I had gone too far. I'd fucked everything up once again; this seemed to be one of my special talents.

"I- I- I-, Lex-" Within five short words I'd been reduced to a mess of panic and heavy breathing. A weight was pressed against my windpipe, a needle taking repeated jabs against my stomach. "I'm sorry!" I screamed. "P-P-Please don't please- don't rape me again, Alex. Please." I couldn't see through the tears that had gathered in my eyes, blurring my surroundings, but I really didn't care to see, I didn't want to see, I wanted to get away, away from Alex.

I wanted to get away from Alex.

That sentence alone made me want to throw up.

The fact that that sentence made me want to throw made me want to throw up.

"No, Jacky, no." He pulled me against his chest. "I would never again do anything- I promise, I promise on my insanity, I promise on the human skull in my fridge, I promise that'll never hurt you, Jacky. Never again." Human skull? That was more than concerning, but I-

And then he kissed me full on the lips and I kissed back.

He tasted weird, but good, and his tongue certainly knew what to do and how to move, but it was only when he pulled away that I recognised the taste. It was an unmistakeable taste, a taste I didn't want to know, yet a taste I couldn't quite ever forget.

He tasted of steel, aluminium; gunmetal.

Which then begged the question, how many times had a gun been pressed between his lips?

Because no matter what the doctors say, we're not okay, no one's okay at all.

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