The Outcast - Chapter Fourteen

For the next few hours, I sat alone in Jordan's room, silently brooding over what happened. It was turning dark outside, the sun setting and sinking into the earth. I used to love to watch the sun set, but now I'm just not in the mood. Jordan's condition still hasn't change, and I know the doctors aren't that optimistic. This just makes me sink even lower into myself, brooding. What am I going to tell Jordan's family? That he was defending me and this happened to him? Jesus, I can't say that. They'll want to know who I am, and then wonder why Jordan was hanging around me in the first place, and then if Jordan wakes up, they'll badger him about being my friend.

I can't do that.

I sigh and run my fingers through my hair. It's something I do when I'm nervous or confused or thinking seriously about something, or, at least, that's what Jordan told me. I rub my temples thoughtfully, feeling a slight pain between my eyes. The headache isn't so bad, it's mainly just an annoying throb.

I wish I had been absent today. Then none of this would have happened.

If Jordan hadn't been my friend and willing to defend me, then none of this would have happened.

It's because of me.

Me.

It's my fault.

I'm to blame.

Damn it, why did this have to happen? Things were going okay, I was even recovering from Dad's death.

Damn McAllen. Curse him. Damn him to hell. I hope he suffers, I truly, honestly do. I knew McAllen hated me, resented me for some unknown reason, but I never thought he would go to such extremes. I never thought he was capable of doing that to anyone, let alone Jordan.

But he was capable of it.

And he did it.

Because of me. Me. Damn it, this is all my fault, it's not fair...

I'm so sorry, Jordan. Had I known what would have happened to you, I would never have tried to be friends with you. I would have shoved you away to make sure this doesn't happen.

Maybe I'm just better off alone.

But damn it, all I wanted was a friend! Just one friend! Was that honestly so much to ask for? Seriously? Why am I not allowed to have friends? Why do I have to be the Outcast?

I'm sick of this fucking job, damn it!

Let someone else do it, because I'm through.

If McAllen is still functioning correctly, perhaps it'll be time for some more kicks to his ribs...

Right, that's not a good thing to think about. I don't want him dead, persay...

Well, okay, I want him dead. But only because he may have killed Jordan. God, it hurts to think like that, but he may die. I have to face it and accept it, even though I don't want to. If Jordan dies, I'll make SURE McAllen pays the ultimate price.

With his life.

I'll make sure of it. I'll even volunteer to be the executioner.

The door opens and drags me out of my thoughts. I turn, expecting to see Sasha or Marina or a doctor standing there, but it's some girl. I've never seen her before. She looks a little older than me, maybe even a little older than Jordan. Her face is fearful and worried, and her eyes have unshed tears gleaming in them.

She stares at me for a moment, then looks at Jordan. Through the light that's still available outside as it seeps in through the open window, she can make out his pale and static form. She lets out a heavy breath and runs into the room, the door closing behind her.

She kneels down next to the bed and grabs Jordan's hand. Gives it a squeeze. "Jordan?" she whispers. Of course, there's no answer. I've been trying to talk to him all evening, and still, nothing.

After a long moment, she looks at me. "Who are you?" she asks right off the bat.

I blink for a moment, then look away. "Kyal Finner..." I murmur, thinking she'll realize I'm the Outcast right from the start and immediately start hating me.

She surprises me. "I've heard about you. You're the Outcast, right? Jordan spoke of you a few times, when we weren't busy."

I look at her slowly.

"Oh, how rude of me. I'm Jazz." she smiles at me, even if it's sad.

I smile back slowly. "Nice to meet you," I say softly.

She nods and turns her attention back to Jordan. "He never mentioned me, did he?" her voice is thoughtful.

I shake my head. "No."

"That's normal, then. Good. I thought he'd changed."

I blink at her, confused. She waves a hand dismissively.

She looks down at him long and hard. "He's my brother," she says quietly after a long moment of uncomfortable silence.

"...Really?" I ask, stunned. Jordan never mentioned he had a sister, or that he even had any siblings.

She nods, slowly. "We're all each other has. Our mom was killed five years ago, and our dad was killed the year after. For a while, Jordan only wanted revenge..."

I frown. This sounds kind of like me, wanting revenge. Jordan had warned me against it.

"For a long time," she continues, "I thought he'd die, too. He changed. When we were little, we talked and did things together all the time. But then later, after our parents died, we stopped talking. He shut himself up in his room. We were treated like Outsiders, me and him, because we didn't have any parents. It...it got to be a little much for Jordan."

I stare at her. Jordan had been an Outcast, like me? No. Not Jordan. He couldn't have been.

But that's what she's saying.

"He stopped caring. He stopped caring about everything, and even though I tried to help him, he didn't want help. He wanted to be left alone. I grew worried. He kept getting into fights at school, because people kept saying things. He always won the fights, but that just got him expelled. I didn't know what to do.

"And things just kept getting worse. He was going downhill fast, and I mean FAST. He wouldn't talk, wouldn't eat..." she trailed off, chewing on her lower lip. "I don't know how much I should tell you, but I figure you should know. Have you seen the scar on his left wrist?"

I frown. Wrist? No. I'd never seen his left wrist. He always had a wristband on it....Oh no...

She sees the realization appear on my face. "He tried to commit suicide a few years back. I came in when he was trying it, though. So he only got the one wrist. I have to say, it scared the shit out of me, walking into the bathroom and finding him there, in his own blood, the razor in his hand...." she broke off again and shook her head. "But after that, he started to improve. I guess you can't really start to get better until you hit rock bottom."

I'm in shock. Jordan? Trying to commit suicide? No, he would never do such a thing. I mean, I grew a little crazy with being the Outcast and having my dad die, but I never once thought of killing myself. Why would he?

Jazz is watching me. "He never told you, huh?" her voice is sad. "We moved right after that little episode, to a different town. We kept moving. I didn't dare settle down and let him be an Outsider again. It might have sent him over the edge, but this time without a rope.

"When we came here, he seemed okay. All of that stuff was behind him now, in the past. But he won't talk about it. He won't talk about anything that has to do with himself. He talked about you, how you were the Outcast, but I had to start the conversation. Have you noticed that? That if you ask him something that has to do with himself, he won't answer?"

I frown greatly. I'd noticed, but had just brushed it off for the time being....

Damn it.

"He might say he'll talk about it later, but he never will. It hurts to see him like that. It's like he's died inside. When he's angry, I don't want to be anywhere near him, he's just so...so cold."

I think back to the episode at the school. That had been my impression then, that he was cold...

"I worry about him. But I think the move to here helped him some. He started opening up a little more, started to return to his old self again. Mostly, I want to thank you for that."

I stare at her. "What?"

Jazz smiles slowly. "You helped him. Thank you."

"Helped him? Look at what was done to him because of me!"

She shakes her head. "That was that kid's fault...what was his name? Oh yeah, McAllen. It's his fault, not yours. Even if the two of you hadn't been friends, he would have done the exact same thing."

I look away. The thing is, I believe that he WOULD do the same thing if he wasn't my friend. He's just that kind of person, and now that I've heard what Jazz has told me, I can kind of understand why.

"I'm taking him home today," she says into the silence of the room.

I stare at her. "What? You can't!" he has to stay here, I mean, look at him! He can't leave like that. What is she thinking?

"I've got the same things that are here, at home," she says quietly. "I can take care of him. I know how. He's my brother, I don't want to leave him alone in the hospital." she looks at me. "Help me get him home?"

I frown. "I don't know where he lives."

She smiles. "I kinda figured that. You can ride with me."

My eyes widen. "You have a car?"

She nods. "I bought one a long time ago. A friend of mine had a lot of money, and they gave me enough to move and get the car. I still write to them ever once in a while, but we're not as close as we once were." she gets to her feet. "I've already signed for him to be released."

And so, fifteen minutes later, I'm in the passenger seat of her car, with Jordan lounging in the backseat. There's an oxygen tank on the floor, and he's got a breathing mask hooked up to it. Every so often, I look back at him, hoping to see him away, but he's always the same.

Always motionless.

Always silent.

Always out.

Sighing heavily, I turn my attention back out the window.