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Mark is the boy that leaves you to rot. "I am real and you are not," He walked away from him. Guilt and shame. They both were feeling it. Mark felt tears in his eyes as he walked away. Why? Why was he crying? He shouldn't be. He's not gay. He doesn't care about that queer. Cash is dead to him. Watching him walk away, Cashton stared. Tears fell from his eyes. He didn't care. What if the story got out? What would his dad think? He tried kissing his best friend. Cash was in love with him. Was it really a bad thing for a boy to love a boy? It wasn't fair. He knew the feelings were mutual. It was a feeling they both shared. The feeling of need and want. The way they looked at eachother. They went through everything together. Mark held him when he cried. Cash helped him after Mark got jumped. Mark was the only boy Cash wanted to love. It hurt. Cash was in pain. As soon as Mark was out of sight he ran to a random pole and punched it until his hands bled. It stung. Blood dripped from them. Usually Mark would help him with something like this. He couldn't. He cried out. Standing there sobbing, he was glad it was night. After Mark blocked him out of his life, Cash started drinking, alot. He would sit there in his room and cry while chugging a bottle of vodka from his parents. He got in trouble every time he would take booze, his dad would scream at him. It would happen often and it would remind him of the times Mark's dad would come home after weeks and find them both cuddled up in Mark's bed. His dad would scream at him and Cash could hear him cry as his dad beat him. He knew Mark had it worse than him. The fact he could no longer help him made his chest ache. Cash was drunk, as always. He needed to see Mark. He had to crawl out his window and jump off his roof. The rush he felt when he almost slipped, the pain in his feet when he jumped down, it went unnoticed, blinded by his thoughts of Mark. He walked 2 blocks, stumbling the whole way. Eventually he was at Cash's house. He didn't knock, he knew it was only Mark home. The door was always unlocked, probably because he didn't care if someone came in and tried to kill him. Walking in he climbed up the stairs to get to his room. The door was closed, as always. Mark once told him it made him forget about the empty house. He opened the door. Mark was laying in bed, on his phone. His eyes widened. Cash went to speak and discovered he was crying, tears dripping from his face. "I'm sorry," Cash sobbed, his words barely audible from his drunken state. Mark stood up, you could tell he was thinking, hesitant to do something. They made eye contact. Cash, despite shaking from his sobs, could tell there were streams of tears down Mark's face. Mark hugged him, tight, he was desperate, scared to be alone. The same feeling was back. The same feeling of need and want. The feeling that described their relationship. They pulled apart. They stared at each other. Mark leaned forward. He kissed him. Hard. Cash was shocked but kissed back, willingly. Mark seemed desperate. They were now making out on the bed. Want and need. Cash pulled him closer. His hips bumping against Mark's, they're teeth scraping together. Mark pulled on Cash's jeans, unbuttoning them. "Wait," Mark looked up at Cash, guilt hiding the shame in his eyes. "I'm sorry," Mark whispered. "We don't need to do this, let's just chill for now?" Cash said softly, still slurring a bit. He smiled at Mark. He grinned back, sadness still obvious in his face. Cash grabbed the blankets and pulled them over them. Mark hid his face in Cash's chest. That's how they fell asleep. This continues for months. Cash would randomly show up to Mark's house, they would mess around, and they would fall asleep. They wouldn't talk in school. They didn't even talk much when they were together. Despite Cash being happy and Mark being satisfied there was still a feeling of shame they would both share while they would fall asleep. They both felt it, but Mark had a deep sadness and even cried a few times after having intercourse. Cash knew he couldn't do a whole lot other than holding his hand and giving him soft kisses. On July 28th, Cash was laying in bed with Mark, who was sobbing drunkenly about how he wanted to kill himself. He was talking nonsense. Cash convinced him to drink water and he rubbed his back while Mark puked. On July 30th, Cash walked into Mark's house. He immediately knew something was off. It was unsettling. His chest ached strangely. He walked up the stairs and walked into his room. All colour drained from his face. There was blood. His wrists were slit. He was unconscious, thankfully there was a pulse. He cried as he called 911. They made it quickly and rushed him to the hospital. He was left in the waiting room. On August 1st at 4:21am Mark Janson passed away. He passed away in his sleep in the hospital. He was being treated after a suicide attempt. His parents weren't identified. If anyone has any information about Mark and his parents please notify us. We are hosting a celebration of life on August 28th. December 18th. "Hi Mark, I brought flowers. I don't know what to say, I'm kind of mad at you. I don't know why you left me. I'm sorry for pressuring you or something, I don't know. I don't know why you killed yourself. You could've left a note. I love you, you were my best friend, you know. Fuck…" Cash stared at the grave in front of him, reflecting for a couple of minutes. Eventually, he dropped the flowers and walked away. Mark is the boy that leaves you to rot.