Categories > Celebrities > 30 Seconds to Mars > Just Playing Dead
They took Harlow, her breathing slow and coarse as she tried to hold onto life. She was fighting, that's what mattered. She wasn't going to let go so easily despite her blood loss, despite the panic around her. Just like she had fought for Jared to get through his darkness she was fighting to rise above the thick of her own. She didn't need anyone to help her though, she was crawling through all on her own and everyone was shocked by how quickly she was gaining health back. Although still in a coma her vital signs were getting stronger and she was reacting perfectly to the transfusion. The perfect patient.
Jared watched her carefully from where he sat beside the bed. Today they were going out to check the house he had been held in. He couldn't even bring himself to think of it, couldn't bring himself to remember the darkness that those walls had holed him up in. The fear that had plagued. Why had it happened? Why?! He was hoping once they got there the truth would be unearthed and he could put this all to rest finally, bury it all in the back of his mind, sending it far away so that he never had to remember it ever again.
He picked absentmindedly at his nails, his eyes staring at Harlow but his mind elsewhere. He was aware that nurses had come in to check on her, her doctor checking her vitals. But purpose and a coherent train of thought never came to mind. He couldn't help but focus on other things. He felt out of it. So terribly out of it there was guilt rising inside of him. This was about Harlow and all he could think of still was the fear that incessantly plagued him. He was so tired, so exhausted.
He tried to remember the face of the man he killed. But all he got were those sinister blue eyes, that demeaning smile. He shuddered at the thought. When he tried to think further all he got was the crude and thick smell of blood reaching his senses. It was almost enough to make him vomit. The smell of it, the feel of it on his hands, the taste of it in his mouth when he had been hit. He hated the sick feeling rising inside of him. That sick feeling that weakened him all over again just like he used to be.
The thought occurred to him then, the thought that he had tried so viciously to distance himself from. He had killed a man. A man had died by his hand and would never live again. It wasn't that he regretted it, how could he? The man had done nothing but terrorize him and lead him towards his own destruction. All that man's life had been was darkness and absolute pain. But that didn't soften the blow of knowing that his hands had taken a life. He had stabbed him, had twisted the blade in him and watched the life drain from his face.
He lifted his hands in front of his eyes, watching them as if he was waiting for blood to appear, for scars to suddenly appear from the life he had taken. Maybe the imprint of his knife, the look of pain in the man's eyes. There was nothing there, nothing at all. His hands were the same, no stains, no wounds, no imprints. They were clean, impeccably so, his nails gleaming healthily in the overhead light. He wasn't scarred outwardly by the death, but inside- that was an entirely different story altogether.
He swallowed down harshly and let out a low breath, not wanting to think about it but feeling like it was the only thing on his mind. He couldn't shake it. How could someone shake death when it was the only thing that surrounded you? He was lost to it , lost to the shadows that it created and rose up inside of him. He was weaker than he had been just a few days ago. There was no way for him to live normally after this. He couldn't even bring himself to think about music, to think about anything except the exhausted reality that he suffered in.
He startled when the hospital room door opened. Turning around to face the opening door and tried to smile a little when he saw Shannon slip inside. Everyone and the world had come in to see Harlow today. Tomo, Emma, Jamie, his mom, Harlow's sister, the world was waiting for her to wake up. Come on baby, wake up. He sighed and met his brother's eyes as he lowered his hands to rest in his lap again. Could Shannon see the darkness of what he was feeling? The overwhelming darkness that he couldn't even begin to explain?
"Hey..." Shannon softly said, coming further into the room and standing near the chair Jared was sitting on. He had something to say, Jared could tell that much. The very way he stood there so silently, staring down at the ground like something interesting was happening down there. He was tense, everything about him said that. More than tense. Was it being in the same room as Jared when he had killed someone? Was that what was causing the barrier in the room suddenly? The fact that blood stained his hands and things were never going to be the same again?
Jared turned to his brother with a sigh and nodded. "Hi." He replied, turning away quickly and looking down at Harlow with a softened and mourned gaze. This couldn't continue on this way forever. He wasn't even sure if he could survive another day with watching her this way. He loved her and hated seeing her suffering this way. Hated knowing that she was hurt. Hated knowing that she was suffering laying there on that bed. Was she though? Or would she be suffering much more were she awake?
Shannon sighed, taking a chair from the other side of the room and bringing it over to where Jared was sitting. "Jared, I have to talk to you." He softly called out, his eyes pleading and saddened as he watched him waiting for Jared to answer. He was driving himself crazy, knowing that all of this had torn everyone apart. This had to be fixed, this had to be mended somehow. And there had to be some sort of an explanation, somewhere. He would find it, he just had to look a bit harder.
"What is it?" Jared asked, not wanting to look at Shannon. There was something unsettling about knowing his brother didn't trust him. That's what it was wasn't it? Distrust? Or was it just hesitance? Like everyone else who came around him ever since this started happening again? Walking on eggshells and skirting around things. No, nothing would ever, could ever revert back to normal. He couldn't understand what it was, why they needed to move away from him as if he had some sort of disease. He hated it, hated the taste it left in his mouth and the burn it left in his eyes.
"Jared, they went to the house." Shannon began, looking into his brother's wide blue eyes as he waited for his response but nothing but an impassive expression came in return. "The house that you told them to go to." He hesitated at first and then let out a low breath and continuing. "They didn't find anything...didn't find anything at all in the house. There wasn't a body, there wasn't any blood. Not even yours..." His voice fell to a whisper as he looked at Jared, wanting to gauge a reaction from him somehow. "Are you sure you got the right address? The right place?"
The words Shannon spoke hit Jared so harshly that he wasn't even sure how to respond. He slowly turned his eyes to his brothers as he tried to think of an answer. It was the right house. It was the right place. He hadn't been mistaken at all. What was this? Why wouldn't there be anything found? They were mistaken!They were playing a joke on him! Something was so terribly wrong.
Jared watched her carefully from where he sat beside the bed. Today they were going out to check the house he had been held in. He couldn't even bring himself to think of it, couldn't bring himself to remember the darkness that those walls had holed him up in. The fear that had plagued. Why had it happened? Why?! He was hoping once they got there the truth would be unearthed and he could put this all to rest finally, bury it all in the back of his mind, sending it far away so that he never had to remember it ever again.
He picked absentmindedly at his nails, his eyes staring at Harlow but his mind elsewhere. He was aware that nurses had come in to check on her, her doctor checking her vitals. But purpose and a coherent train of thought never came to mind. He couldn't help but focus on other things. He felt out of it. So terribly out of it there was guilt rising inside of him. This was about Harlow and all he could think of still was the fear that incessantly plagued him. He was so tired, so exhausted.
He tried to remember the face of the man he killed. But all he got were those sinister blue eyes, that demeaning smile. He shuddered at the thought. When he tried to think further all he got was the crude and thick smell of blood reaching his senses. It was almost enough to make him vomit. The smell of it, the feel of it on his hands, the taste of it in his mouth when he had been hit. He hated the sick feeling rising inside of him. That sick feeling that weakened him all over again just like he used to be.
The thought occurred to him then, the thought that he had tried so viciously to distance himself from. He had killed a man. A man had died by his hand and would never live again. It wasn't that he regretted it, how could he? The man had done nothing but terrorize him and lead him towards his own destruction. All that man's life had been was darkness and absolute pain. But that didn't soften the blow of knowing that his hands had taken a life. He had stabbed him, had twisted the blade in him and watched the life drain from his face.
He lifted his hands in front of his eyes, watching them as if he was waiting for blood to appear, for scars to suddenly appear from the life he had taken. Maybe the imprint of his knife, the look of pain in the man's eyes. There was nothing there, nothing at all. His hands were the same, no stains, no wounds, no imprints. They were clean, impeccably so, his nails gleaming healthily in the overhead light. He wasn't scarred outwardly by the death, but inside- that was an entirely different story altogether.
He swallowed down harshly and let out a low breath, not wanting to think about it but feeling like it was the only thing on his mind. He couldn't shake it. How could someone shake death when it was the only thing that surrounded you? He was lost to it , lost to the shadows that it created and rose up inside of him. He was weaker than he had been just a few days ago. There was no way for him to live normally after this. He couldn't even bring himself to think about music, to think about anything except the exhausted reality that he suffered in.
He startled when the hospital room door opened. Turning around to face the opening door and tried to smile a little when he saw Shannon slip inside. Everyone and the world had come in to see Harlow today. Tomo, Emma, Jamie, his mom, Harlow's sister, the world was waiting for her to wake up. Come on baby, wake up. He sighed and met his brother's eyes as he lowered his hands to rest in his lap again. Could Shannon see the darkness of what he was feeling? The overwhelming darkness that he couldn't even begin to explain?
"Hey..." Shannon softly said, coming further into the room and standing near the chair Jared was sitting on. He had something to say, Jared could tell that much. The very way he stood there so silently, staring down at the ground like something interesting was happening down there. He was tense, everything about him said that. More than tense. Was it being in the same room as Jared when he had killed someone? Was that what was causing the barrier in the room suddenly? The fact that blood stained his hands and things were never going to be the same again?
Jared turned to his brother with a sigh and nodded. "Hi." He replied, turning away quickly and looking down at Harlow with a softened and mourned gaze. This couldn't continue on this way forever. He wasn't even sure if he could survive another day with watching her this way. He loved her and hated seeing her suffering this way. Hated knowing that she was hurt. Hated knowing that she was suffering laying there on that bed. Was she though? Or would she be suffering much more were she awake?
Shannon sighed, taking a chair from the other side of the room and bringing it over to where Jared was sitting. "Jared, I have to talk to you." He softly called out, his eyes pleading and saddened as he watched him waiting for Jared to answer. He was driving himself crazy, knowing that all of this had torn everyone apart. This had to be fixed, this had to be mended somehow. And there had to be some sort of an explanation, somewhere. He would find it, he just had to look a bit harder.
"What is it?" Jared asked, not wanting to look at Shannon. There was something unsettling about knowing his brother didn't trust him. That's what it was wasn't it? Distrust? Or was it just hesitance? Like everyone else who came around him ever since this started happening again? Walking on eggshells and skirting around things. No, nothing would ever, could ever revert back to normal. He couldn't understand what it was, why they needed to move away from him as if he had some sort of disease. He hated it, hated the taste it left in his mouth and the burn it left in his eyes.
"Jared, they went to the house." Shannon began, looking into his brother's wide blue eyes as he waited for his response but nothing but an impassive expression came in return. "The house that you told them to go to." He hesitated at first and then let out a low breath and continuing. "They didn't find anything...didn't find anything at all in the house. There wasn't a body, there wasn't any blood. Not even yours..." His voice fell to a whisper as he looked at Jared, wanting to gauge a reaction from him somehow. "Are you sure you got the right address? The right place?"
The words Shannon spoke hit Jared so harshly that he wasn't even sure how to respond. He slowly turned his eyes to his brothers as he tried to think of an answer. It was the right house. It was the right place. He hadn't been mistaken at all. What was this? Why wouldn't there be anything found? They were mistaken!They were playing a joke on him! Something was so terribly wrong.
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