fragile | jelix

three months

that day, when i went to jack's window, i saw nothing but closed curtains. i couldn't see inside, i couldn't see him. the view was completely barricaded. i started to instantly feel worry, even though he was probably fine.

i wanted to knock and see if i could get a reply, but then i remembered him telling me that if the curtains are ever closed, to just leave, and come back the next day. i assumed that he was possibly just having a really bad day with his condition, and he didn't want me to see him in that state. so, like he told me to, i left and came back the next day.

but they were still closed when i went back. so i left again. and then when i went back the next day, low and behold, the curtains were still. closed.

i knew something wasn't right. i knew something was going on. with every day i went and saw that the curtains were closed, i felt more and more anxiety when i went back home. i missed him. i wanted to see him so badly. but i couldn't, because the curtains were always closed.

i started staying up late at night and watching jack's window to see if there was any movement, any sign of life, any sign of a curtain opening. but there was never a single sign of him. i did this every night, only to get the same results; nothing.

every night before i went to bed i thought about him, and prayed that he was ok, prayed that this whole thing wasn't that major, and that he was safe. if anything had happened to him, i wouldn't have known what to do with myself.