I'm a Mess and You Know That I Can't Help It.

Morning arrives far too quickly.
Jack sighs as the alarm sounds, obnoxious as ever.
He extends an arm heavy with sleep, reaching to silence the infernal contraption he so loathes.
Moves too fast.
Teetering on the edge of the bed, he struggles to roll back the way he came, back to the safety of the mattress.
His arms flail wildly, searching desperately for something to hold onto.
His breathing becomes shallow with panic.
He finds the corner of the night stand and grips hard, clinging to it as if it were a cliff ledge and he is dangling in midair.
Crisis averted, albeit narrowly.
It was far too close a call for Jack's liking.
He backtracks, inching back into the blankets carefully.
Makes sure he's far enough away from the bed's edge before hesitantly letting go.
Takes deep breaths, shaking violently.
In, out. In, out.
He relaxes a bit, heart rate settling gradually back to it's normal pace.
Sits up slowly, regaining his composure. 
Reaches out once again and promptly shoves the clock off of its perch.
It makes a loud cracking sound as it hits the wall and bounces once before landing on the floor with a satisfying thud.
What a fucking wonderful start to the day.
He takes the usual precautions and checks for fear-inducing situations before walking to his closet and dressing mechanically.
Contemplates having breakfast, but his nervously flipping stomach quickly shoots down the idea.
Gets on the bus. 
Spends the journey analyzing his current situation and imagining all the ways everything could go wrong, cringing at the really horrible ones.
Exits the bus, steps into school.
Arms wrap around his waist from behind.
He jerks forward.
Stiffens.
Breath catches in his throat, muting a scream.
The arms don't let go.
His mind is racing, fear creeping into his thought stream.
What if his captor never releases him?
What if they drag him into an empty classroom and murder him? Rape him?
What if-
"Jack? Are you alright?"
The voice is in his ear. 
Too close.
He nods nervously, voice hoarse and wavering as he responds.
"P-please...let go of m-me..."
The arms are quickly retracted and Jack turns.
Zack is blushing a deep red, eyes cast downward.
"I'm sorry, Jack...I didn't think you'd...react quite that way."