This chapter is dedicated to Kaykee96. Thanks for voting and commenting on this story.
          Warning: Trigger warning. This part starts off pretty dark.
You guys can play the song whenever. It's best if you play it now, though. (It starts at 0:19)
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          I wake up to the sound of muffled shouting. A screaming match. A sound that I'm all too familiar with. A sound I hate. One I loathe, even.

          It's the sound of heartache, of trying to fix what's broken, of trying to save someone who doesn't want to be saved. It's the sound of despair, of watching the stars that shine in someone's eyes fade to nothing, to die, to disappear. It's the sound of loving someone who doesn't love you, someone who stopped.   It's the sound of wrapping yourself - wrapping your life - around someone who breaks you. Of loving someone because they stayed, who leaves. It's the sound of putting your faith in someone for them to smash it, and burn it, and beat it. It's the sound of being destroyed, of crashing and burning. Of losing hope in everything. It's the sound of hot tears sliding down faces, the sound of footsteps walking out the door. The door slamming shut behind them. The sound of furious screaming and begging whispers. The sound of sadness, of depression. It's the sound that happens when the person you love the most, the one you trust with your life, that you'd do anything for betrays you willingly, happily. The sound of failure. The sound of emptiness. The sound of nothing. The sound of a soul that's good, and pure, and full of life and energy, becoming an empty shell, becoming nothing but a poorly made replica. Because they left. Because you made one mistake, said one thing that ruined everything. It's the sound of guilt, of blame, of the beginnings of self-hate. It's the sound of misery, the sound of desperation. The sound of your love for someone leaking, drop by drop by drop. This endless dripping, a leak that you're unable to fix, unable to hear until it's too late. Until it can't be fixed. The sound of a devil falling in love, of an angel sinning. The sound of a heart, that once loved, and forgave, and healed, emptying out to leave an endless pit. Craving emotion, yet unable to feel.

          It's the sound of razor blades sliding across skin. Of a noose tightening around a neck, swaying in the wind. Of pills tumbling down throats. Of leaping off buildings. Of bodies floating, lifeless, to the surface. The sound of empty shells clattering to the floor, a dead body close behind. Of knives slicing through skin. The sound of rumbling stomachs and parched throats. Of walking in traffic. Of empty beer bottles and shattering glass. The sound of smoke drifting daintily into the air.

Basically, it's the sound of giving up.

And right now, it's all I hear. I hear more then the words being said, I hear the emotion behind them. I hear the reluctance and betrayal behind the screaming. The brokenness behind the whispers. The begging and hope behind the silence. I hear the tears' plummet to the floor. I hear the eyes praying for them to understand. I hear the breaking when they don't.

I hear the footsteps walk out the door, walk down the stairs. Hear the hope that those footsteps will turn around and come back. Hear the heartache when they don't. I hear the silence when the door slams shut, a car revving away shortly after. Hear the despair that clings to the air.

I hear the broken-hearted sobs, the yelling and screaming. The wailing of a shattered heart and broken soul. The tears dripping onto the floor. Hear the will to live slip out the door.

I get up, open the door, walk to the room across mine. I open it, seeing the hope on Jack's face. See it crash when he realizes it's just me. I walk over to him, crouch right in front of him.

"She's gone," he whispers softly. "She left."

"I know," I reply solemnly.

"She's gone," he repeats, "and I'm lost. I don't know what to do without her. I'm so lost," he whispers brokenly. He looks up at me distressfully.

"She broke up with me," he says so softly, I almost don't hear it. He says it so softly, like it'll be true if he says it too loud. "She said she didn't love me." His voice cracks from the tears.

          "I know. But it'll be ok, Jack. One day, this'll all be a distant memory and you'll have someone else to love, who'll love you no matter what. Someone who can heal the scar that she left behind. Someone who brings out the best in you. It hurts now, but one day, you'll be twice as happy as you are miserable right now. And that'll make it all worth it. She'll make everything you've gone through worth it," I tell him.

He wraps his arms around me, pulling me to him. He buries his head in my neck. I rub circles into his back soothingly.

          "She was everything to me," he whispers.

          "I know Jack, but it'll be ok. Trust me on this," I reply soothingly.

          "Ok," he says, but he doesn't. Not yet, anyway.

Right now, it's playing over in his head, every moment they ever spent together. Meeting her, asking her out, asking her to move in, kissing her. Everything. Every conversation they've ever had ringing in his ears. The angry shouts and seductive whispers. It's all playing over, the good and the bad colliding, canceling each other out, leaving nothing behind. Leaving you numb and cold, desperate for warmth.

And right now, I'll provide that warmth.

I don't know how long we stay there but, it's long enough for it to brighten a bit outside. Jack's tears dried a while ago, but he's still in shock. His breathing is slow and steady, making me think that he fell asleep. I pull back slightly, to see his face. His eyes are closed and he looks peaceful, a hint of a smile on his face.

          I grab him the best I can, hugging him to me, trying to get him in bed. I manage, somehow. He's sprawled out uncomfortably. I adjust his limbs so they're not bent every which way. He looks a bit more comfortable now. I grab his blanket folded at the edge of his bed and pull it over him.

          I look at him, his profile. He looks peaceful, but I see the slight furrow in his brow, the slight clenching of his hand. He's dreaming of her. I reach my hand out, gently brushing some hair out of his face, my hand lingering for a second before I pull away.

          "Night Jack," I tell him softly, even though it's technically morning.

          I go back to my room, limping. My leg hurting from all the crouching I did, but I'd do it all over again. I sit on my bed, thinking.

          I think about Jack. About how bright his eyes usually are, how they convey his happiness and energy. Today, they looked dark. More like a starless sky then a boundless ocean. But still so beautiful.
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          Hey guys! Umm.... Sorry about this. I was kinda depressed when I wrote this, and this is what happened. I hope you liked it. Sorry if you didn't.
          I hope you like the song (it's 'Cut Love' by Hayden Calnin, if any of you wanna know).
          As you probably know, I'm holding a Q&A to celebrate 500 reads. So please leave questions on my '500 reads' chapter.
          As always, please comment and leave feedback on this story, it helps a lot. I love reading your guys comments. Vote if you liked this part, despite how depressing it is.
          I'll see you all later. Bye!!