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All created stories have to follow . We do not allow any sexually related material. The Doll Palace will be enforcing this rule and completely blocking access to the accounts that disregard our policy and create sexually oriented stories.
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Hi, my name is Jackson
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 | Blackened Eyes and Phony Smiles [05] |
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 5 with 2 vote(s)
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| Created: 2009-10-03 07:04:52 |
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- The end. Thanks for reading, and all of that. Sorry. Once more, it was a rushed series. But I finished it, however dodgily.
“I wanna keep holding on.”
Derek's arms wound around my waist as he drew me from Clara's room, through the hallway and into his. I sighed lightly as he released me long enough to shut the door, his gaze lingering briefly on my face. I crossed to his bed and sat, thinking of Clara. She'd fallen asleep first, as always, and I was intensely envious of her ease at falling asleep. She could do it as easily as breathing. Derek crossed to me, brushing a strand of hair away from my cheek as he kissed me. I shook free, glaring at him, and slumped back on his bed. It was somewhat warm where he'd previously lain and, quickly, I slid into that spot, drawing closer to the warmth like a moth to a flame.
“What's up, Ade?”
“I think my friend's being abused. I told the social worker at school.” I muttered, my eyes closed. Derek wound his arms around me, kissing my neck once before I heard the springs shift as he sat up. I rolled over and looked up at him, meeting his unwavering gaze. “I'm worried about him, that's all.”
“You did the right thing, Ade.” He murmured.
“You didn't see his face.” I snapped. “It was like I'd told him Tammy, his bestfriend, had dropped dead.”
“Relax. I know it's hard right now, but you did the right thing. He needs help, from an adult.” Derek met my gaze unfalteringly, holding it for a moment before nodding, more to himself than me. “Stop taking it so hard. You did what you thought was best, it's as simple as that. He'll get over it.”
“But...”
“Ade, really, stop it.”
xxxx
“Ade, wait up!” I glanced over my shoulder, spotting Tammy as she threaded her way toward me. Her eyes were red-rimmed, his nose running slightly. Her confusion of makeup had run, the mascara mingling with the tear-tracks that had ruined her foundation. I frowned lightly as she approached, her shoulders slumped. She looked defeated. “I thought you needed to know.”
“Needed to know what?”
“Jackson's dead. The school called his dad.”
I wasn't sure why, or how, but I was on the floor before I noticed. Tammy was crying all over again, rubbing at her eyes, smearing her makeup worse. I wanted to tell her to stop, because she was going to ruin what all the guys liked about her, but I couldn't. My mouth felt hot. I wanted so desperately to be sick. To get rid of the feeling in my stomach, and yet, I couldn't. If I did, if I could, I would probably have lost it completely. Tammy dropped down beside me, her hand closing around mine as she trembled. She said something, something that was probably worthless, but I didn't hear it. It was as if I'd gone deaf. And mute.
“His little brother,” She mumbled, “He killed him, too.”
xxxx
It wasn't even raining when they buried Jackson and Dustin Tate. I couldn't understand that anymore than I could understand anything else. It was bright and sunny, there wasn't even a hint of wind. It was autumn, but it wasn't breezy. The trees had turned gold, their leaves a confusion of reds and browns and golds. I bit lightly on my lip as I stared at the freshly laid grass covering the graves of Dustin and Jackson. I'd killed them both, no matter what anyone said. I sunk lightly to the ground, brushing my hand lightly across the words. It bore their names. Nothing more. It was only because of Mrs. Coon, their neighbour, that they'd even had a funeral. Their father couldn't afford it, and even if he could, he wouldn't have. He didn't see he'd done any wrong.
“Come on, dear.” I looked up, spotting Mrs. Coon. She'd been the speaker at the funeral, commenting on both Jackson and Dustin. Talking about them like a mother would, I'd thought. I hadn't cried. In fact, I don't think I cried when Tammy told me the day after. I don't really remember. It was like living someone else's life. “I have something to give you.”
Into my hands she set a shoebox. I flipped the lid open, staring down at the sketchbook I'd come to know. It was Jackson's. There was also another book, a small notebook. I flipped through it, smiling faintly at the photographs. Some were both I'd ever met Jackson. It was of him and his brother. Others had been taken at school. He'd obviously printed them from the computers to stick inside this book. There was a small box inside the shoebox, as well as a folded piece of paper. A letter. I drew that up first, my stomach heaving.
'Adelaide,
If you're reading this – it means I'm dead. I'm not angry with you anymore. You were only trying to help. The school called my dad today. I can't even imagine how angry he'll be. The social worker here is really nice. She's letting me write this. She's going to try and help Dustin and I. Thank you, Adelaide. I'm going to stop by the shops after school, to buy you something. Something special. Hopefully, you won't ever reading this, because I'll still be alive. But if you are, I'm sorry. Sorry I swore at you, and all of that.
I'm even sorrier I never told you the truth. I love you. I'm in love with you. Tell Tammy I love her, that I'll be watching over her to make sure she's safe. Make sure she's okay, Adelaide. I need someone to look after her now, and I don't think there's anyone better than you. I guess that's all I have to say. Look after yourself.
Love,
Jackson.'
I retrieved the smaller box and opened it. Inside lay the most beautiful necklace. It was a rather simple silver chain, except for the heart hanging from it. It was diamond, fake or real I couldn't tell, but it was beautiful. It was outlined in silver and, framing it, was a diamond rose. The rose held thorns, and it was one of those thorns that had hooked the edge of the ring beneath the necklace. It was plain and simple. Kind of like a wedding band. Only, this one, it bore my name. On the inside, Jackson had had inscribed, 'I love you, and will always look after you. – Jackson.'
I was finally crying when Clara and Derek arrived to take me back to their place. |
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