“Come on, you have to get out some day, y’know, enjoy the sun and have a little fun.” Jackson said from over the phone, not expecting Mark to respond with anything more than a simple grunt or hum. The younger sighs, chuckling quietly, not yet to his loud, high pitched laugh, but still somewhere near there. “Yet, even though I know this, I probably won't be able to get you out. Come on, visit me after fencing practice, or better yet, during fencing practice.”

Mark grunted in disapproval. “N-no thanks.” He muttered quietly.

Jackson laughed a bit. “I know, I know, I guess I'll talk to you later,” Jackson hummed softly. “Alright, bye.”

Mark turned his phone off, now staring solely at his empty word document. 

‘.’

Mark stretched out his body, almost like a cat. He was already tired of having his arms on the keyboard, in a position that signified he was ready for typing or was actually typing, but his brain was as empty as the document.

Even while being quiet, Mark found himself surrounded by people, even if they weren't always around. He never wanted to let it go. He hated ending things, so he soon found himself hating periods, then punctuation in general.

Soon, he got into the community for the biggest authors out there, the writing community, he became known for his style of never using punctuation, or rather, he just didn't bother using punctuation. He always preferred to separate sentences with either joining them together with a comma or conjunction, or by simply indenting to a new paragraph. Sure, it took time and effort, and a lot of space, but he was alright with it. He didn't want the endless flow of words end, he wanted it to continue, a never ending loop of words upon words upon words.

He actually laughed at how pathetic he was.

~~

She stretched her thin, lightly tanned arm out, basking in the warm summer sun

It was quite beautiful, a gentle breeze cooling her warm skin

She loved springs, enjoying the blooming of new plants

While the world is dominated with pollen allergies, she was blessed with none whatsoever, freeing her of any suffering while playing in the beautiful sun that had been so brutally covered by clouds

The white grounds would soon turn green, causing new flowers to bloom in the place of the ones that had died long ago

While winters were just as fun with the snow

And the autumn season was always nice for its beauty

And the summers nice for the beaches, she enjoyed spring that one tiny bit more for one reason

The spring of birth

Springs were meant to represent birth, the start of one’s life, the most beautiful moments in life

She disliked winters as they meant the opposite of spring, death, a desolate land of cold white powder and freezing temperatures, and no leaves to be seen on any of the trees in her small neighborhood

And despite that, people loves winters, maybe because it meant rebirth as well as death

Maybe life was just a cycle like the seasons

Spring, summer, fall, winter

Spring, summer, fall, winter

Spring, summer, fall, winter

It was perpetual, a never-ending cycle of life and death 

While she likes spring because it meant birth, she just as equally began to love winter, the season of rebirth, and the season of death

Her fear for death would soon be conquered

~~

Mark continuously spewed out any words that sounded the slightest bit coherent onto his documents, always hoping the endless amount of words could not reach its end.

It came to him suddenly when he found out he feared death. He wished everything went on perpetually, projecting him through time, the world moving around him while he stayed stationary. While everything else went on its life, living and dying happily, Mark wanted to go astray, he wanted to create his own cycle; his own course of life.

The entire world was revolving around him as he couldn't bear to let go of the past, just hanging by that thin rope, pulled almost to its limit, one thin strand in tact. 

His phone buzzed, a loud noise running through his quiet apartment. 

[hey]

Mark stared at the one word on his screen. 

[Hi]

He placed his phone back on his desk, trying to think of something to write.

[Look, I really need someone right now… Can you come over?]

Mark’s heart began racing as he stared at the last sentence Jackson had asked him. He really didn't want to go, but he was tempted to go.

[Sure. I'll be there in 5]

Quickly, Mark threw his body into the shower, taking his clothes off as briskly as possible. After deciding he was clean enough to not smell like he'd been sitting indoors for five weeks, Mark shoved clothes more presentable than his current attire of a white T-shirt that was starting to turn an odd shade of yellowish-grayish and a pair of ill-fitting sweatpants. 

After checking he had barely a minute left to get four floors down from his apartment to Jackson’s, he looked at the limited number of elevators. All of them were either at the bottom floor or higher floors, neither of which Mark was willing to wait for. 

He ran down the staircase, nearly missing the floor he'd meant to stop at. 615, 617, 619. He stopped between the 617 and 619 apartments, turning around to find a lone 618 a bit further down the hallway. 

Breathing in, Mark pressed the doorbell with great hesitation. He was shocked to see Jackson so disheveled when he'd opened the door for Mark. 

“So you actually came?” Jackson huffed out with slight amusement. A light smirk appeared on his chapped lips. He moved aside, letting Mark into his dark apartment.

“Wh-what happened?” Mark breathed out, his voice slightly raspy. 

“She’s gone… she said it wasn't working, so she left.” Jackson whined, fresh tears threatening to spill from his large eyes. 

After meeting Jackson, Mark found that the younger had been infatuated by a girl of the name, Youngji. Of course, he always complained of how she was at a completely different level than him. Even though humans all should be on the same levels as each other, not even race or uality should have anything to do with that.

When she asked him out, Jackson answered with almost no hesitation. He said yes, no thinking that she could be joking or that it  might be a prank.

Mark nodded, pulling his knees to his chest. His throat was unremarkably dry while his mouth wasn't able to form words that were the least bit coherent. 

A bitter laugh escaped Jackson’s lips. “It's silly, I know it. To get so worked up over such a stupid matter. I don't know,” he paused, wiping his eyes gently. “I guess I actually thought of ending it… ending my existence on this planet earth.”

Mark gasped, his breath hitching slightly.

“I know, I know. You hate talking about that, but I've never felt so broken after her leaving. Of course, I also never really experienced losing anyone, so I wouldn't know.”

Mark hugged his knees tighter, finding himself blurting words out like the bile rising in his throat. “It's h-hurts, losing something, I mean.” He looked at his jean-clad knees. “I-I mean, even having someone l-leave, possibly forgetting you hurts…”

Jackson listened intently to his usually silent friend, gesturing for the older to continue.

“You f-feel like your entire world ended… like the spark d-disappeared from your life, leaving you to blindly shoot in th-the darkness.” Mark sighed, shaking his head slightly. “But when y-you retrieve the light again, everything seems so m-much brighter.”

“Thanks for this…” Jackson said, his voice nearly a whisper. 

Mark nodded in return, his eyes finally leaving his knees to take a glance at the younger. 

“Y’know, I was surprised seeing you agree so quickly to come out of the comfort of your house.”

A quiet laugh startled Mark as he looked at Jackson. 

“It's actually funny. I mean, with such a quiet nature, it's hard to imagine you'd be where you are now.”

Mark doesn't know whether to be flattered or offended. 

“What are you so scared of?” Jackson asks, a light smirk dancing its way onto his full lips. 

Mark shakes his head, pulling his legs closer to his body. 

“I know this is rude, but I'm curious… I've known you for over eight years, yet I still don't know half of who you are.” Jackson continues, staring at the ceiling. 

“You d-don't need to know who I-I am.” Mark mutters, feeling suddenly defensive. 

“I'm just sayin’. I always spill my innards to you while you never tell me anything. But… I guess it's just how things always were.” Jackson hummed, raising his voice slightly as if it were a question. “It's funny though, how you possess such eloquence, yet you choose to keep quiet.”

Mark glared at Jackson.

“That's why I b-became an author.” Mark muttered under his breath.

“I'm just sayin’, lighten up. Anyway, I feel like you're just scared; scared of losing those you love. I just look into your eyes and see such fear and loneliness, I want to help you even though I don't know how.” Jackson looked over to the slightly taller male.

“You c-can't just read me like that… I-I'm not that transparent, am I?” Mark says with a great sense of rage running through his mind.

“I'm not saying you're transparent, or you're easy to look through, but I have that gut feeling.” Jackson responds casually.

“I'm going home.” Mark manages to mutter without stuttering.

~~

“Where are you going,” he said with no rising at the end of the sentence even slightly indicating he was asking a question; his voice was just monotone.

“Out,” she replies with no effort to cover up what she was doing

With thoughts racing through the male’s head, his mind automatically reached one question to ask

“Are you even happy,” still no second tone to even indicate he was asking a question

“I am,” she says shortly

She walked out into the quiet night, her mind racing with thoughts

She wasn't truly happy, no, she wasn’t even unhappy, she wanted the attention of another

Of course, she wasn't going to simply get any affection or attention by just lounging around in her house, eating ice cream, lazily getting up to do anything necessary

Everywhere she looked, it seemed that people’s lives were made up for them

She felt ostracized by the entire humanity on the planet Earth, except by her other siblings

~~

‘Am I really happy?’ He asked himself the same question he'd written on his page. It had been a few weeks since he'd last spoken to Jackson. 

He rested his head on his arm, closing his eyes.

The answer wasn't that simple. It wasn't like he was asked what the meaning of life was, but he still couldn't come up with a discernible answer. 

He leaned back on his chair, sighing. After leaving Jackson, some of his creativity flowed back to him while the other part was waiting for him to grow up. Waiting for him to find that special someone, waiting for him to find love.

Deciding to finally leave his home and into the “outside world,” he turned his phone off, enjoying the cold breeze through his thin sweater. He plugged his earbuds into his music player, allowing it to just scroll through his purchased songs one by one. Mark grazed his hand over the bench in the park he was visiting. Mark sighed, looking down slightly as he heard the last of his songs end, realizing he'd spent over two hours outside. Even though it was already dark when he'd went out, it felt darker, even. 

Sighing, he walked back to his apartment, his hands in his pockets replaying the first of the songs he'd bought. 

Once he got back inside, he turned his phone back on, removing the earbuds from his ears, tangling them into a messy blob next to his MP3 player. He was startled when his phone buzzed upon turning on. The young man carefully looked at his phone. While he had many other texts from Jackson, one stood out. 

Mom
[Why couldn't you have become a doctor like we hoped you would? What wrong did we do for you to be so messed up?] 15:34

Mark gasped, a familiar suffocating feeling coming back to him. His mother texted him almost half a day ago.

[It's not like we cared, you were a disappointment anyway] 15:35

He felt the suffocating feeling get stronger, each coming second felt more like a minute as he felt himself slowly choking. He had no one else to go to. Jinyoung and Jaebum who were on their honeymoon in Korea. While Bambam, Yugyeom, and Youngjae were taking the time to visit Bambam’s home country, Thailand.

He placed his finger shakily over Jackson’s name, his vision already blurring. 

“Hello?” A groggy voice asked. 

Mark removed his phone from his ear, peering at the time. It was three in the morning, why would Jackson be awake when he was?

“Hello?” The same person asked, a slight tinge of annoyance in his voice. 

“I-I…” Mark stuttered, unable to find the words to speak. 

“What's wrong?” Jackson asked, seeming to have shaken his grogginess. 

“I-I need y-you… t-to come over,” Mark managed to whisper through his closing throat. “I-I can't breathe…”

“.” Jackson muttered. “I'll be there in a few minutes, don't hang up.” 

Mark took in a shuddering breath as tears ghosted his vision. 

The door bursted open a few minutes later, distracting Mark from his panicked state. Mark shuddered again, unable to find the breath entering his lungs. 

The other didn't even bother speaking, he just wrapped his hands around Mark, gently albeit firmly. He held Mark tightly in his arms, whispering to Mark to concentrate on his breathing. 

A few minutes later, Mark finally opened his eyes, seeing that his vision was no longer blurry. He wiped his eyes, grimacing at the dried tears stuck in his eyelashes. 

“What happened?” Jackson asked gently to the older. 

Seeking solace in Jackson’s arms, the older didn't let go, instead speaking in his usually soft voice into the other’s ears.

“My mom.” He answered bluntly, managing a slight smile at his own ridiculousness as his tears began to dry, allowing him to see slightly better.

Pulling away from Jackson’s gentle grasp, he showed the younger his screen, the text messages she sent present on the cellular device.

“I don't understand.” Jackson said as he stifled a laugh. “What are you so scared of?” 

Mark’s eyes widened to a few weeks ago. 

“What are you so scared of?” 

“I’m not trying to sound harsh, but what are you not scared of?” Jackson asked, aloof.

“I'm n-not scared of anything.” Mark muttered under his breath. 

“No offense though.” Jackson added. 

Even when people say “no offense,” it doesn't mean the person will just be not offended if they were before. 

“Stop dwelling so much on the small things and just live like today’s your last day since it might.” Jackson said, sparing a glance at Mark’s suddenly emotionless face. 

“I'm n-not trying to dwell on th-these things, you w-weren't born like me; a disappointment.” Mark huffed, trying to emphasize his point while hugging a couch cushion.

“W-what do you mean a disappointment?” Jackson stuttered out in surprise. 

“I-I didn't get the job they, my p-parents, wanted m-me to get and on top of that, I-I'm biual.” Mark sighed, getting up from his couch. “Whatever. I'll just go to sleep.”

“No wait!” Jackson yelled, almost as if they were talking to each other over phone then in person. “I didn't mean that… In just worried about you.” 

“Don't be.” Mark managed to say without any hint of emotion peeking through. 

“I'm so—” Jackson began.

‘Don't be sorry for my insolence.’ “Don't be… I-I don't need your sympathy.” 

He didn't want to say that, but the voice in his head was forcing him to go out of character for that one split second to speak.

“Mark… I'm here for you… don't push me out again.” Jackson said desperately. “I worked so hard for this, don't push me away.”

Mark wanted to laugh, hysterically especially. 

“Deal w-with it.” Mark said, his usually soft tone was dripping with venom. “You d-don't need me, I don't need you.”

“Don't leave me! I already wanted to kill myself before… I might actually pull through with it this time.” Jackson said, his voice slowly fading. 

Mark paused, almost frozen. His face contorted into one of surprise.

“W-w-what?” Mark stuttered out.

Jackson laughed so dryly and so bitterly, Mark felt his stomach twist in fear. “While you're busy worrying about death, I've learnt to embrace it… I'm not afraid like you.” Jackson whispered the last sentence.

Mark prayed that this was actually just a sick, twisted prank. He knew him and Jackson were polar opposites from the beginning, but this was a whole different level. While he was shy, Jackson was loud. While he liked listening, Jackson liked talking. While Mark preferred to observe, Jackson liked contributing. 

While he feared dying, Jackson embraced it. 

“D-do you know why I actually b-became an author?” Mark asked, changing the topic.

“Why?” Jackson asked, returning to his usual self after his sudden outburst.

“Because w-words can be expressed freely, n-never really ending except for the confines of paper or an online d-document. Still, my wr-writing style developed from this.” Mark said, reminiscent of his older pieces. “Punctuation i-is the end of a sentence… I hate e-ending anything, s-s-so I guess I've never really gotten around to u-using them..?” Mark concluded, ending his statement in a question-esque fashion.

“Really?” Jackson asked, thinking for a bit. “How ‘bout we never end things…”

He paused again, the only noise was the soft whirring of Mark’s laptop, it was quite old so it made noises every so often, and the ticking of the clock hanging up on the older’s wall. 

Tick, tick, tick

Tick, tick, tick

Tick, tick, tick

Tick, tick, tick

Mark ended up counting around twenty of the repetitive “ticks.”

“Be my boyfriend?” Jackson blushed. “I'll never leave you, even when you get annoyed with my presence.”

Mark smiled, feeling Jackson’s warm arms once again surround him. 

~~

As time passed, she began to notice significant changes in her overall style; her personality especially

She found that fears weren't meant to hold her down, they were meant to teach her things

Her fear of death especially

Maybe it was because no one actually knows what actual death feels like, sleep or passing out being the closest contender

The fear suddenly became worse at the death of her other sister

It became real too quickly

When suddenly her home was attacked by a gang-esque group, she wanted to protect her younger brothers

“Run,” she said, trying to avoid being heard by the people invading 

The two boys looked back at her, seeing the sad glint in her eyes

They muttered soft apologies, swearing to remember her even if she dies

“Open the door,” the people yelled at the door

She looked back, seeing the boys run out the window

The strong, burly men walked into the room after kicking the door down

The girl didn't run, she put up no resistance, so they shot her straight through the stomach

“We’re done here,” the supposed leader said to the others

The girl smiled, feeling blood accumulate in and around the wound, she knew she wouldn't survive

Her vision became less focused, her head already feeling like lead as her eyelids began drooping

She was dying

She allowed her eyes to fully close, muttering her last words to no one in particular 

“It was worth it."

~~

After finding that he loved Jackson, Mark found himself changing significantly, no longer talking with a stutter, going out more often. He also stopped fearing the end, in fact, Jackson taught him to embrace it. 

At first he sighed as to how easily he allowed himself to get swayed by Jackson’s words, but eventually gave up on trying, losing the feeling to, well, feel.

Mark was glad to finish his new book, but with so little actual information on any characters, he feared that readers might not understand. He decided against his worries, knowing it would be his final book.

Mark was glad to finish his new book as it was probably going to be the last book he ever put out. He sent it to the publishers, hoping it would be approved to be mass produced. 

~~

“Did you find out yet?” Jackson asked Mark from behind, back hugging his boyfriend from behind the couch. 

Mark nodded into Jackson’s neck, turning his laptop screen up to Jackson's view. 

It was approved for publishing. It would soon be mass produced to see how different the brunette had become.

“Let's do it?” Jackson asked Mark when he closed his laptop. 

Mark shook his head, taking a piece of paper and a pen out. 

To whoever reads this, Jackson and I, Mark, have left for a while… with the intent on never returning, I will advise the landlord to clean out both out apartments, sell it even. Jackson’s apartment number is 618. Our wills will be on both our coffee tables, we’re leaving everything behind. We’re starting anew. Thank you in advance.

“Let's do it, let's commit a double suicide.” Jackson said, smiling at the older. 

“Let's go.” Mark said confidently for the first time in a long while. 

His fear of death has since been conquered since getting with Jackson. While words were endless, punctuation was for starting anew, allowing more words to pour in. 

Life didn't end at death, it ended when Mark commanded it to. 

“It's over, isn't it?” He asked into the cold night, almost morning, sky. 

Jackson smiled at Mark. “You said you wanted to conquer your fear, didn't you?” 

Mark smiled back at the younger. “I already did… I'm ready.” The two stood on the bridge, looking down at the large body of water stretching to beyond where the eye can see. 

“Let's end it.” Mark said after the last few remaining cars passed by, a cold wind tousling their hair. The two climbed up onto the railing, sitting in it for a bit. Mark was beyond nervous for this. 

“I'm here for you.” Jackson whispered to the other, putting his warm hand into Mark’s. 

The two stood up as best as they could, holding each other's hand tightly. They looked to each other, as if searching for reassurance that they’d die together. Another smile danced its way onto their lips, causing the both of them to smile, albeit close-lipped. 

They continued looking at each other, gaining courage. The two looked forward again when they decided they were ready.

They jumped. 

 

 

---

I know this is really random, but I always love the word bitter because the moment I press the "U"

key instead of "I," it automatically changes it to the word butter, which for some reason I find very

amusing. Also, happy new year (a bit early though). Also, I still have no idea if this makes any sense

but yo, life doesn't make sense. Anyway, random unnecessary... Anyway, bye, I'll see you next year.