Categories > Celebrities > 30 Seconds to Mars > Just Playing Dead
Jared sat there long after Shannon had left. His eyes watching the closed front door as if his mind was elsewhere, as if everything around him meant nothing anymore. Nothing did. He was lost to the feeling of misery that always clung to him. He felt empty now, lost to his own sorrow, trapped in his own chains. He didn't want to think, didn't want to even breathe but there were things he had to do, things he had to contemplate and think about. There had to be something that would lead him to know what this all was about. There had to be a clue left as to who was doing all of this. He would find it. That would be the only way for him to live.
Finally turning away from the door he moved towards the basement where he kept everything. All those notes, all those pieces of evidence he had kept with him, that he couldn't bear to part with. Why couldn't he let it go? It wasn't that he thought he could investigate it himself, that he thought he could figure out who was doing this. He supposed it was because there was some sort of connection, there was something there that bound him to those notes, that time. It was all a part of him and he couldn't bear to let go of another piece of his life.
Opening the door he went down the stairs, flicking on the lgiht and immediately went towards the bin on the shelf. He slid it off, setting it on the table and removing the lid. Carefully he set down the note he had crumpled earlier, once more lifting out several notes, taking out things from his past. The agony was still piercing through him, the past bringing him a terrible pain. He couldn't turn away though. He had to face it didn't he?
As he pored over the notes he wondered. Could it be Shannon? Could it really be his own brother that was doing all of this to him? He couldn't believe that someone that ws so close to him would do something so terrible to him. That he would destroy his life so viciously and yet still stay there beside him as if nothing was happening at all. Shannon wasn't that kind of person. Shannon couldn't be that kind of person. He was Jared's brother and that alone meant the world, didn't it? That was their bond, nothing could break it. And yet...the timing was too precise.
Over and over he skimmed through notes that had been sent to him while he was out on the road, staying in hotel rooms, even now when he hd entered his house, the waiter hanging from his ceiling, Shannon conveniently inside the kitchen almost the whole time. It could just be coincidence, It could be the overworkings of his paranoid mind. But there was something honestly sharp about the thought, like it wasn't just an accusation but something he could find actual proof to back up. What would he do with that proof if he eventually did find it?
He stopped when he came upon a small box. The one thing he had never told anyone. And in fact he had blocked it all out. The horror he had felt had been severe enough for him to not want to even mention it again, not even to the police when the stalking had first began. He hadn't wanted it to be real, kept telling himself it wasn't real but the smell, the look of it. It was all too real. It was too horrible to be fake.
Slowly he lifted the lid, the smell hitting him and twisting in his stomach. The plastic it was in helped take the edge off the smell but he could still smell it. Or perhaps it had just stuck in his memory, the day he had opened it and the blistering smell reaching him. The flesh was deteriorating, the black skin around it nearly vanishing altogether. His hand shook as he reached out for it, his fingers almost hesitant as it wrapped around it. He swallowed down harshly and then dropped it again.
Who would do that? Cut off their own finger and send it to him? Who would put themselves through so much pain as all that? And the note that had come with it, the note that had said now Jared had a part of him even though they were already inside each other. He had been so fearfully confused, so frustratingly afraid. This meant it couldn't be Shannon, last time he saw Shannon still had all of his fingers. That made him cleared didn't it? At least he hoped that he did. Hoped that Shannon wouldn't do something as gruesome as all of this.
A knock on the door startled him and he immediately closed everything up, sliding the bin back onto the shelf and rushing up to the main area of his place. He walked over to the front door hesitantly, hoping it wasn't a mass of photographers and interviewers like at the hospital. Looking out through the peep hole he saw Harlow standing there, her face a picture of worry as she fidgeted with her purse. He sighed, pressing his forehead against the cool wood unsure if he would be able to face this again. Face her worry and all the explanations he would have to make again and again. But he couldn't leave her standing out there by herself.
Quickly he worked on unlocking everything before he pulled open the door and met Harlow's eyes. They didn't say anything for a long moment. She was looking at him like she was trying to somehow understand him, looking at him like he was another man. That was the same look she had given him in the hospital when he had questioned what had happened. Was there something heavy suddenly between them? Was she seeing something falling apart that he had cracked? That thought filled him with fear. He didn't want to think about that.
"Hi." He softly said finally, his eyes holding hers, begging her to tell him things were alright between them. She had to know he didn't want to lose her. She had been at his side through everything, through the darkness and the misery that had strangled him. He couldn't lose her now when everything was falling apart again, when his demons were starting to rise up again and take over what was left of his life. She couldn't abandon him to that. He wouldn't be able to survive it on his own.
"Can I come in?" She didn't respond to the look in his eyes, there was something rooted in her gaze. It wasn't just worry, there was a flash of something else that he couldn't quite pinpoint. That frightened him. These past few months he had learned to know and read her so well. If he was losing that what else would he losing? Did that also mean she was losing him as well? That they were slipping away from each other like the past few months hadn't happened at all? But they had happened and they had been the reason he was still alive. She was the reason he was still able to move forward, to breathe.
He nodded, opening the door wider to let her inside before closing it. He locked up the locks and then turned to face her, the same plea in his eyes as he held her gaze. Why wouldn't she respond to it with her usual warmth? Why wouldn't she give him an answer like she usually did? And what the hell was that look she was giving him?
"Shannon called."
And that's when he knew what it was. It was something so akin to fear he was surprised he hadn't recognized it. She was scared of him, of his outburst no doubt when he had thrown Shannon out, of his loss of memory, of the way he had beaten that waiter. He swallowed harshly and lowered his eyes, tears glazed and blurred the ground beneath him. He felt himself tremble a little with his nervousness and sorrow.
"I'm sorry." he whispered, unable to lift his eyes to hers.
"You can't just say you're sorry after something like that Jared. You can't." Her voice broke then and he knew that she was going to start crying soon. Could he bear that? Her crying over him?
He forced himself to find some sort of strength so he could look at her, so he could approach her. He set his hands on her waist, bringing her closer to him which brought a sigh from her lips. He looked deeply into her eyes, trying to reach that beautiful entity that was her soul, that precious part of her that had been patient with him.
"I just don't know how to...." He cut himself off, unsure of what he was going to say, of what words would come next. He didn't know how to what? How to live?
Softly she hushed him, her delicate finger pressing to his lips as she shook her head. "It's okay, baby, it's okay." She buried herself deeper into his arms, sighing at the warmth that still radiated from him. She was scared to lose him. She remembered what it had been like. Those days when he would sit afraid in darkness for hours on end. She couldn't live through that. "We're going to figure this out...even if it kills us."
He shook his head hurried at that, a touch of panic filling his eyes. "Don't say that."
She smiled softly up at him, her hand touching lightly to the side of his face. "I'm not going anywhere." She whispered before she lifted herself to take his lips with hers.
He kissed her back, eagerly searching for a way to take away the ache of sorrow building inside of him. He pressed her to him, wanting her to know that even he wasn't going anywhere. She led him to the couch, letting him lie down as she went on top of him, lowering herself into his arms and gently kissing him. "I love you." She whispered against his lips. He managed a smile but something was coming on him, his drowsiness. He cursed himself inside, trying desperately to fight it. Not again. It had just happened earlier. His eyes opened even as he continued the kiss, looking up at the beams where the body had been hanging. He felt a twist in his stomach as he remembered the look of the waiter, her lips kissing gently at his neck. He tried to hold onto her, tried to escape it but he couldn't.
"Harlow..." He whispered, which made her to stop. His eyes were fluttering closed on her questions, her worry. He wanted to speak, to say something but he couldn't, nothing would come out. His eyes caught sight of something coming up behind her, a shadowy figure that was distorted to his slipping mind. He wanted to call out but before he could, blackness struck. For how long he didn't know but when he woke up, she was gone. As if she had never been there at all.
Finally turning away from the door he moved towards the basement where he kept everything. All those notes, all those pieces of evidence he had kept with him, that he couldn't bear to part with. Why couldn't he let it go? It wasn't that he thought he could investigate it himself, that he thought he could figure out who was doing this. He supposed it was because there was some sort of connection, there was something there that bound him to those notes, that time. It was all a part of him and he couldn't bear to let go of another piece of his life.
Opening the door he went down the stairs, flicking on the lgiht and immediately went towards the bin on the shelf. He slid it off, setting it on the table and removing the lid. Carefully he set down the note he had crumpled earlier, once more lifting out several notes, taking out things from his past. The agony was still piercing through him, the past bringing him a terrible pain. He couldn't turn away though. He had to face it didn't he?
As he pored over the notes he wondered. Could it be Shannon? Could it really be his own brother that was doing all of this to him? He couldn't believe that someone that ws so close to him would do something so terrible to him. That he would destroy his life so viciously and yet still stay there beside him as if nothing was happening at all. Shannon wasn't that kind of person. Shannon couldn't be that kind of person. He was Jared's brother and that alone meant the world, didn't it? That was their bond, nothing could break it. And yet...the timing was too precise.
Over and over he skimmed through notes that had been sent to him while he was out on the road, staying in hotel rooms, even now when he hd entered his house, the waiter hanging from his ceiling, Shannon conveniently inside the kitchen almost the whole time. It could just be coincidence, It could be the overworkings of his paranoid mind. But there was something honestly sharp about the thought, like it wasn't just an accusation but something he could find actual proof to back up. What would he do with that proof if he eventually did find it?
He stopped when he came upon a small box. The one thing he had never told anyone. And in fact he had blocked it all out. The horror he had felt had been severe enough for him to not want to even mention it again, not even to the police when the stalking had first began. He hadn't wanted it to be real, kept telling himself it wasn't real but the smell, the look of it. It was all too real. It was too horrible to be fake.
Slowly he lifted the lid, the smell hitting him and twisting in his stomach. The plastic it was in helped take the edge off the smell but he could still smell it. Or perhaps it had just stuck in his memory, the day he had opened it and the blistering smell reaching him. The flesh was deteriorating, the black skin around it nearly vanishing altogether. His hand shook as he reached out for it, his fingers almost hesitant as it wrapped around it. He swallowed down harshly and then dropped it again.
Who would do that? Cut off their own finger and send it to him? Who would put themselves through so much pain as all that? And the note that had come with it, the note that had said now Jared had a part of him even though they were already inside each other. He had been so fearfully confused, so frustratingly afraid. This meant it couldn't be Shannon, last time he saw Shannon still had all of his fingers. That made him cleared didn't it? At least he hoped that he did. Hoped that Shannon wouldn't do something as gruesome as all of this.
A knock on the door startled him and he immediately closed everything up, sliding the bin back onto the shelf and rushing up to the main area of his place. He walked over to the front door hesitantly, hoping it wasn't a mass of photographers and interviewers like at the hospital. Looking out through the peep hole he saw Harlow standing there, her face a picture of worry as she fidgeted with her purse. He sighed, pressing his forehead against the cool wood unsure if he would be able to face this again. Face her worry and all the explanations he would have to make again and again. But he couldn't leave her standing out there by herself.
Quickly he worked on unlocking everything before he pulled open the door and met Harlow's eyes. They didn't say anything for a long moment. She was looking at him like she was trying to somehow understand him, looking at him like he was another man. That was the same look she had given him in the hospital when he had questioned what had happened. Was there something heavy suddenly between them? Was she seeing something falling apart that he had cracked? That thought filled him with fear. He didn't want to think about that.
"Hi." He softly said finally, his eyes holding hers, begging her to tell him things were alright between them. She had to know he didn't want to lose her. She had been at his side through everything, through the darkness and the misery that had strangled him. He couldn't lose her now when everything was falling apart again, when his demons were starting to rise up again and take over what was left of his life. She couldn't abandon him to that. He wouldn't be able to survive it on his own.
"Can I come in?" She didn't respond to the look in his eyes, there was something rooted in her gaze. It wasn't just worry, there was a flash of something else that he couldn't quite pinpoint. That frightened him. These past few months he had learned to know and read her so well. If he was losing that what else would he losing? Did that also mean she was losing him as well? That they were slipping away from each other like the past few months hadn't happened at all? But they had happened and they had been the reason he was still alive. She was the reason he was still able to move forward, to breathe.
He nodded, opening the door wider to let her inside before closing it. He locked up the locks and then turned to face her, the same plea in his eyes as he held her gaze. Why wouldn't she respond to it with her usual warmth? Why wouldn't she give him an answer like she usually did? And what the hell was that look she was giving him?
"Shannon called."
And that's when he knew what it was. It was something so akin to fear he was surprised he hadn't recognized it. She was scared of him, of his outburst no doubt when he had thrown Shannon out, of his loss of memory, of the way he had beaten that waiter. He swallowed harshly and lowered his eyes, tears glazed and blurred the ground beneath him. He felt himself tremble a little with his nervousness and sorrow.
"I'm sorry." he whispered, unable to lift his eyes to hers.
"You can't just say you're sorry after something like that Jared. You can't." Her voice broke then and he knew that she was going to start crying soon. Could he bear that? Her crying over him?
He forced himself to find some sort of strength so he could look at her, so he could approach her. He set his hands on her waist, bringing her closer to him which brought a sigh from her lips. He looked deeply into her eyes, trying to reach that beautiful entity that was her soul, that precious part of her that had been patient with him.
"I just don't know how to...." He cut himself off, unsure of what he was going to say, of what words would come next. He didn't know how to what? How to live?
Softly she hushed him, her delicate finger pressing to his lips as she shook her head. "It's okay, baby, it's okay." She buried herself deeper into his arms, sighing at the warmth that still radiated from him. She was scared to lose him. She remembered what it had been like. Those days when he would sit afraid in darkness for hours on end. She couldn't live through that. "We're going to figure this out...even if it kills us."
He shook his head hurried at that, a touch of panic filling his eyes. "Don't say that."
She smiled softly up at him, her hand touching lightly to the side of his face. "I'm not going anywhere." She whispered before she lifted herself to take his lips with hers.
He kissed her back, eagerly searching for a way to take away the ache of sorrow building inside of him. He pressed her to him, wanting her to know that even he wasn't going anywhere. She led him to the couch, letting him lie down as she went on top of him, lowering herself into his arms and gently kissing him. "I love you." She whispered against his lips. He managed a smile but something was coming on him, his drowsiness. He cursed himself inside, trying desperately to fight it. Not again. It had just happened earlier. His eyes opened even as he continued the kiss, looking up at the beams where the body had been hanging. He felt a twist in his stomach as he remembered the look of the waiter, her lips kissing gently at his neck. He tried to hold onto her, tried to escape it but he couldn't.
"Harlow..." He whispered, which made her to stop. His eyes were fluttering closed on her questions, her worry. He wanted to speak, to say something but he couldn't, nothing would come out. His eyes caught sight of something coming up behind her, a shadowy figure that was distorted to his slipping mind. He wanted to call out but before he could, blackness struck. For how long he didn't know but when he woke up, she was gone. As if she had never been there at all.
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