Untitled LJ and JTK crossover

It was the first day at his new school, and Jeff Woods wanted nothing to do with it. He had made it through the day, though it had not been all that great, especially with him constantly having to get people to leave his brother, Liu, alone. Walking silently, he made his way to his new house with his brother next to him. The slightly younger boy seemed to be tense, though he went on and on about his new classes as a sort of way to cope with the new environment.

Once they got to their home, Jeff walked inside, his brother on his heels. They both dropped their matching green school bags next to the door. Liu got his homework from his and retreated to his bedroom to get started on his pre-algebra homework that he was so very excited to have. Once his brother had scampered off, Jeff took a seat on the couch. He sat on the edge of the cushion, his elbows resting on his knees and his head cradled in his hands. There were very dark thoughts going through his mind, and he was scared. But he dared not tell their parents.

In an attempt to practically tear out the thoughts, Jeff grabbed at his brown hair and pulled until it hurt. When he realized that it was not helping, the boy sighed and closed his blue eyes. The white hoodie he had recently gotten for school was fairly comforting, and he removed his hands from his hair long enough to pull up the too-large cotton hood of the sweatshirt.
Jeff was silent for the rest of the day. He hardly ate any of his dinner, but that was fairly normal for the boy. This being a normal occurrence was strange, considering Jeff was thirteen at the time. He excused himself, then retrieved his school bag from where he had dropped it and secluded himself in his room to do his homework.

He found it nearly impossible to focus once he got to the fifth word problem on his own math homework. What did ‘b’ equal? Why was ‘b’ even in the problem? With a small growl he tossed his pencil against the wall across the room. He did not care at that point. He muttered to himself for a while about how math was dumb and he would take whatever grade he was given; he basically was voicing his lack of caring when it came to math.

After a while he returned his half-finished worksheet to his school bag. He called a hurried “Good night” to the rest of the house and shut off his light. He did not sleep. Jeff sat cross-legged in the middle of his bed, going over the events of the day and the thoughts he had been attempting to block out since he got home. He figured the two were connected somehow.

Well into the night, Jeff stood and grabbed a composition book from his school bag. He hunted down the pencil he had previously thrown and returned to his former position. He tore a page from the notebook and set the page on the cover, so he had a hard surface underneath while he wrote. On the paper he wrote down his thoughts.

[I want to kill them,] he wrote. [The way they acted… they should all die. I want it to be with my bare hands. I’ll kill them for what they said to Liu.] He paused, reading over the words with wide, terrified eyes. It was not the words that scared him; rather, it was the fact that he believed those words.

Rather than continue to write down what was going through his mind, Jeff just wrote “HELP” across the entire page, writing and all, and tucked the page into the cover of his composition book. So as not to wake anyone in the house, he gently tucked the book under his bed. He made a trip to the restroom, then curled up under his blankets and waited for the coming of the next morning.
At some point, the teen had fallen asleep. He was no less troubled then as he was consciously. He tossed and turned, getting hopelessly tangled in his blanket before shedding it altogether. He was all too relieved when his alarm went off, only to realize they had started at their new school on a Friday. With a groan, he sat up and again put the hood of his sweatshirt up. He had not bothered changing out of his hoodie and loose-fitting jeans the night before because he simply did not care. Jeff glanced at his alarm clock. The bright green numbers informed him that it was 7:03 in the morning.

He turned so he was sitting on the edge of his mattress and leaned down to pull his composition book out from beneath his bed. He slid the book out and picked it up with one hand, setting it on his lap. Once the notebook was secured on his lap he leaned down again, fishing around under his bed for his pencil. He muttered a very soft “ahah!” once he found the yellow #2 pencil and sat up. Jeff grabbed the corner of the loose paper that was tucked into the book. There was a small note at the bottom of the page written in bright blue gel pen that told the boy to flip the paper over to the back.

Slightly confused as to how that note could have gotten there, Jeff carefully turned the page over to view the back of it. Written neatly in the same pen was a short note.

[It will all be okay!]

He scoffed at the bright blue words, suddenly hating the fact that the message was so cheerfully written in sparkling ink. He crumpled up the page and tossed it into the corner of the room. Another page was torn from the book, and he set it on the cover just as before. Again he began to write.

[These thoughts are not okay. I want to kill people. This is a problem. I never thought this way before. Something’s broken in my head and I’m scared.]

Jeff read over his words before concealing that page beneath the cover. He hid the notebook under his pillow and rose from his bed, making his way to the kitchen to hunt down something for breakfast. He settled on a bowl of cereal, and ate it in the silence of the sleeping house.

He had just finished his cereal and rinsed his bowl when he saw his dad. He offered a small wave, and the older man waved back before exiting the house on his way to work. Jeff sighed and returned to his bedroom to read over, and perhaps add to, his notebook page from earlier. When he opened the cover, another bright note was written beneath his own writing, this time in orange.

[I know you can get through this!]

Just like the last one, the bright note only angered the teen. He even went so far as to scribble over the sparkly orange ink with his pencil before he crumpled up the paper and tossed it over to join the other page in the corner.
Despite the fact that he was rather annoyed by the notes he kept getting, he almost wanted his unknown pen-pal to give him more uplifting messages. He repeated the process, writing down a note and tucking the loose paper into the cover. He wandered out to let his family know that he was planning on spending the day in his room. None of them seemed to be surprised by the news. Rolling his eyes at their knowing murmurs, Jeff returned to his room.

This time when he checked the paper, there was a note similar to the ones before in an equally bright, equally sparkly lime green.  “You are an outstanding child,” he read aloud, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he might smile. This new note he decided to write his own words beneath the gel ink.

[I’m not a child… and I’m not outstanding. I’m just a broken scared teenager that’s pretty sure that he wants to kill someone.]
Jeff returned the paper to his composition book and set it on his dresser. Watchful eyes remained on the notebook, trying to catch whoever kept writing on his notepaper. He stared at the book for several hours before giving up. With a sigh, he stood and left the room. He scrounged through the cupboards and fridge in search of food that did not take much to prepare. He settled with a chocolate chip granola bar, leaning against the counter to eat his snack. Once he was finished eating he stopped in the bathroom on his way back to his room. He walked in, shutting his door slowly before walking purposefully over to the dresser. He checked the paper, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw a new message scrawled in light violet.

[Don’t do that! Killing is much too extreme. You just need someone to talk to.]

“Then come talk to me,” he whispered, a slight bit of hostility in his tone. He was beginning to get irritated with the anonymity of his note buddy. He was warming up to the bright ink, and it was evident that he now anticipated the messages, but he wanted—no, needed to know who was writing them. Jeff skipped dinner and went to bed around seven in the evening.

The sun woke him. It was only six in the morning, but it was very bright in Jeff’s bedroom. It seemed that the one ray of sunlight that beamed in his window was pointing somewhere particular. Jeff rolled out of bed, barely ending up on his feet. He followed the light to the corner of the room where he had been discarding crumpled notes. In place of the paper was a box.

Puzzled, the teen picked up the box and carried it back to his bed. He sat cross-legged in the center of the mattress, the box positioned upright in front of him. He traced the words on the box with the fingertips of his right hand, the left combing through his unkempt hair. “Laughing… Jack in the Box,” he read, his voice just under a whisper, only loud enough that he himself could barely make out the words. He admired the colors on the box before his wandering fingers strayed to the handle on the side. He slowly began to turn it.

Jeff hummed along with the sharp chiming of “Pop Goes the Weasel” that sounded from the box, jumping slightly when the lid popped open before finishing out the well-known tune. He peered into the box curiously before shrugging and closing the lid to try again. Or at least, that was his intention. Rather than click closed, the lid swung back into its open position.
Blinking a few times in confusion, Jeff set the box on the floor and scooted back against the wall, watching the open box warily. He was extremely shocked when colorful smoke and confetti came from the open box that had appeared empty a moment ago. He jumped at a few small firework-like pops and narrowed his eyes accusingly at the box.

The boy’s eyes widened considerably when a tall, rainbow-colored clown appeared from within the smoke. The being seemed to be presenting itself, head tilted a bit and eyes closed for a moment, before the clown gave a bow.
“Your colorful pen pal, at your service! Here for you when you don’t feel so outstanding! I’ll talk to you when you need it. Oh, and I almost forgot! My name is Laughing Jack~!”

Jeff only stared, his blue eyes wide and his mouth ever so slightly open in wonder. He had no idea how to react to something such as this randomly appearing in his bedroom. Once he processed the other’s words, he shook his head. “W-wait, YOU are the one who kept leaving me the notes? That explains the bright colors…” He trailed off.

“You don’t sound so happy to see me, Jeffy…”

“Don’t call me Jeffy.”

“Sorry kiddo. Hey, why are you so glum all the time?” The cheerful being took a seat on the edge of Jeff’s bed, turning a bit to face him.
“You don’t have to be scared to smile… I’ll be sure of that. You should be happy to know that I am your new best friend and I wouldn’t betray you for the world.”

The boy looked away from Laughing Jack, focusing on a randomly selected portion of the wall. “Why do you care? I told you in the note I wanted to kill people… and you’re not afraid?” Jeff sighed and scooted a slight bit closer to his new friend.

“Of course I’m not scared! We’re friends~. Friends don’t hurt each other,” the clown added matter-of-factly. He seemed completely sincere for a moment before his grin returned.

Taking a moment to mull over the other’s words in his mind, Jeff sighed. He moved a little closer again and leaned over so his head was on his new friend’s shoulder. “I’m scared, Jack.”

The cosmic being gently patted Jeff’s head. “What are you scared of, kiddo? I bet I can help.”

“No,” Jeff whispered. “You can’t… I’m scared of myself.” He went completely silent after that, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes.

“Here, I have an idea.” Jack turned a bit more and pulled his friend into a hug. “Next time you start thinking about dark, horrible things like that, talk to me. Maybe it’ll help you out of those places, and no one gets hurt~. All will be well, my friend.”
Sunday was spent in Jeff’s room, as per usual for the boy, only this time he was not alone. He talked to Jack about everything that scared him and all the mishaps and bullies at school that had instantly made such an impression on Jeff that he really did not wish to return. In the end, Jack tucked his friend into bed that night with a softly sung lullaby.

Monday morning started off hectic. Jeff had forgotten to set his alarm and had woken up with ten minutes to spare before the bus picked them up. He rushed to prepare for the day, running a brush through his hair and quickly gathering up his school bag and the few contents that had been scattered across the room. He barely made the bus.

Throughout the day, the teen managed to pay attention to what his teachers were saying, aside from the lecture he got from his algebra teacher concerning his half-finished assignment. Jeff tuned out half of the words the teacher had said, occasionally replying with “sorry” or
“I’ll remember that.”

The day ended just as Friday had. Liu walked alongside Jeff on the way home from the bus, babbling about how much he loved his classes, while Jeff silently contemplated the homicide of the school bullies.

It was not until they crossed the entryway that Jeff remembered his friend. He muttered something about his homework in passing to his mother, grabbed an apple out of a basket on the counter, and locked himself in his room. He leaned against the door. “Jack?”
Suddenly, the being was right next to him. “You seem tense. Rough day, kiddo?” the clown almost immediately wrapped an arm around the teen’s shoulders and led him to the bed. “Your eyes are dark. Are you thinking about that dark stuff again? That just won’t do~!” He used his index fingers to force a smile onto the boy’s face, which caused Jeff to give a small chuckle and a genuine amused smile.

“Little bit… it wasn’t all that bad I guess.” He tensed when he heard footsteps approaching his door. Jack seemed to vanish, leaving behind a plume of colorful smoke and a slightly bewildered Jeff.

Jeff’s mother opened the door. “The neighbor across the street wants you and Liu to go over to their son’s birthday party this evening. You’re going. And you have to dress nice. You don’t want to make a bad first impression, right?”

The boy gave a small nod. “Fine… I just have to finish my homework first, okay?”

“You have two hours until the party. Better get busy.” She closed his door and returned to the living room.

The boy groaned and sat on his bed, pulling his school bag across the floor to retrieve his homework. He pulled out his worksheet from Friday along with a textbook and a blue-covered notebook. He lay on his stomach on his bed and set to work solving the annoying math problems that he had been assigned.

Finally done, Jeff slammed the cover of his algebra textbook shut. He glanced at the clock; there was around fifteen minutes remaining for him to find something nice to wear. Grudgingly, he sifted through the clothes in his closet. Grabbing the first pair of slacks he saw, he quickly changed into those. He couldn’t seem to find a nice shirt so he straightened out his white pullover hoodie the best he could and turned to leave the room.

Before he managed to open the door, Laughing Jack’s hand was on his shoulder. “Try to have fun. It’s a party!”
Giving a small smile, Jeff nodded, then left his room and joined his family at the front door. Together they walked across the street, the whole while their mother was trying to convince Jeff to return to the house and change out of his hoodie because it looked “shabby and careless” and she thought it would be better for him not to wear it.

The teen seemed uncomfortable with the introductions to the other boy and his parents. He fidgeted with his sleeves, and his mother told him several times to make eye contact and stop slouching. He was beginning to become irritated with her. However, by the time he was about to turn around and go home, they were invited into the back yard and his parents left. He opened his mouth to try to beg them to stay, but he was too slow. By the time he had spoken, they were out of sight.

Liu tugged on his brother’s arm to get him to join everyone. Jeff sighed and followed his younger brother into the crowd, eyes darting here and there and his jaw clenched to prevent himself from screaming or begging his brother to let him go home.
Of course, once Liu had let go and wandered off into the partygoers, Jeff caught sight of none other than Randy. That was the boy that seemed to be in charge of all the other bullies at his new school. Almost instantly, flashes of Randy’s dead body played in the teen’s head. His eyes went wide in panic when he saw the other boy walking toward him. He was sure if he came within reach, the bully would be dead within minutes.

Jeff scraped the tops of his rows of teeth together, trying his best to keep calm. The teen shifted his weight from one foot to the other and tucked his hands into the pocket of his white sweatshirt. His eyes widened a bit as his fingers brushed against a piece of paper that had not previously been there. Slowly, he removed the folded notepaper and carefully unfolded it.

“It will be okay,” he read in a whisper, smiling just a bit at the bright sparkly red ink that the note was written in.

Jeff made it through the party without hurting anyone or himself, and actually had a good time. He talked to a few other guests, participated in a party game or two, and did not make a beeline for his house at any time throughout the party.
When the other guests began filing out, Jeff located his younger brother, and the two of them returned to their own home across the street. Both were laughing and talking about all the happenings of the neighbor’s birthday party when they walked inside.

Jeff’s family was very shocked when the boy took part in family discussion at the dinner table, and even more surprised that he finished his dinner. They were beginning to become concerned when he did not retreat to his room immediately after the meal was finished, though it was a positive kind of concern.

Around eight-thirty that evening, Jeff said goodnight to his parents and brother before finally returning to his bedroom. He carefully removed the note from his hoodie pocket and set it on his dresser. “Thank you…”

“Not a problem, kiddo~!” came the sudden cheerful reply. “Thought it might help. That guy seemed pretty mean. So I thought maybe if I left you that note, it would make sure you had the best time at the party! Even though I wasn’t there.”
Smiling at the cosmic entity, Jeff sat on his bed. “You could have gone… you would have made the party a lot more fun.”

“Oh but, what would the other kid’s parents think?” Jack sat next to his friend, giving a concerned expression. He did not want to disappoint his friend, but he definitely didn’t want to scare anyone!

“It was a kid’s birthday party. You could pretend to be the hired clown or something.”

“I guess so. But what if the parents didn’t hire one? Then everyone would be concerned and a little scared. I don’t want that, of course!” The clown smiled reassuringly at his friend.

Jeff nodded, leaning against his friend. “I’ve been wondering something… are you sure I didn’t imagine you?”

For just a moment, the being looked slightly offended. “Of course you didn’t~! My only purpose is to be the best friend I can be, and I was sent for you. I thought you needed me, so here I am.”

Smiling, the teen nodded again and climbed underneath his blanket. Jack made sure that his friend was comfortable, and told Jeff ridiculous stories until he fell asleep.

This went on for several years. The two were inseparable. Even when Jeff was well into his life, his friend was still by his side, making sure to leave him brightly colored notes now and then when things started to get rough.

Due to the sudden appearance of Jeff’s friend, he never became the homicidal psychopath his darker thoughts told him he would be, and he actually lived a cheerful, fun life with his cosmic buddy. The two told stories every night and spent long hours talking about everything under the sun for many, many years after their chance meeting when Jeff had been nothing more than a small, scared thirteen-year-old.