The End of All Things

Anchors & Diamonds

Who would you call?

What would you say?

What would you do?

If today was your last day?

-D atSea "Anchors & Diamonds"

It was all too much.

His thoughts blurred together, running into each other in a frantic attempt to stand out before they would vanish.

Ashton was unsure if he waited an hour, a day, a week, a month even, if his intentions would change. But at the moment his thoughts and actions were contradicting himself.

The rational side of him was screaming to put down the razor he was currently turning over and over in his hands. 

But an almost animalisic part of him was whispering for him to do it, to end everything. End the pain, the unbearable pain that pushed him to be sitting on a cold tile floor in the middle of an even colder night.

Ashton tore his eyes from the razor resting inbetween his fingers and started sweeping his eyes over the barren environment of the bathroom he had situated himself in.

He was sitting, leaning against a cabinet with a sink above him and a bathtub/shower across from him. There was a  small window above the toilet next to him. Almost automatically his eyes drifted to the window.

Outside of the window the dark outline of trees against the sky could be seen clearly. But it was not this that captured his attention. It was the small glittering lights sprinkled carelessly across the sky.

His mind immediately cleared and almost in a childlike manner he started noting shapes between the stars. He half-smiled, his mind still a bit fuzzy, unable to focus on anything completely. Stars were always a sign oh hope for him. They were always the small lights to focus on when everything else was dark.

After taking one last good look at the stars, he looked back at the razor. The cold metal providing contrast against his pale skin. He would usually refer to the small piece of metal as a "friend" but now the razor provoked fear in him, but it was not the razor itself. He was scared of himself. He was afraid of what could happen in the next few minutes. The bathroom was dead silent and his shallow breathing and heightened heartbeat seemed to be the only thing he could be sure of.

Nothing was ever absolutely clear to Ashton. He always had to stop and question the reality of everything around him.  The colors were too bright and the people seemed too fake. He could never fully accept what was happening and if it was actually happening.

Hundreds of images flashed in his mind, all the colors blurring together and he seemed unable to resist as image after image was presented in his mind.

~*~*~*~*~

His 5th birthday party, where he only wished for a father.

When he was 8 and his mother hugged him, something that never occured again.

His 11th Christmas, where his present was the announcement his mother was remarrying. 

He was 12 when he started feeling down.

This was also when the bullying started.

He was 13 when he made his first cut.

He was 14 when he stopped trying in school.

He was 15 when he burned himelf.

Now he's 16 and he is stuck in whatever form of reality this is. 

He debated for so long about leaving a note but he decided not to- no one needed, nor wanted to hear his dying thoughts.

Ashton slowly lifts up the razor between his fingers. He was so used to feeling it there, that it was almost deceivingly comforting. Ashton rolls up his red sweater sleeves. Cuts and scars are scattered across his arm along with the faded sharpie marks of a butterfly when he tried and failed to stop self harming.

Ashton squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head trying to clear his mind but the thoughts only become more indiscernible. He lets out a deep breath. 

He opens his eyes and stares at the barely visible vein on his wrist. Setting the razor down quickly, he grabs a sharpie from his pocket, he always keeps on him. He puts the cap inbetween his teeth and quickly and carefully draws an X on the vein. He puts the cap back on the sharpie and throws it to the right of him, not bothering to watch where it ends up, only hearing the slight clatter of it hitting a wall.

He picks up the blade again, his movements becoming more concise. He puts the blade to the X and before he can press down, he starts laughing.

Laughing coldly and humorlessly at how his story-his life is going to end. He has no idea why he's laughing but he's becoming hysterical. Anger flares in him for a moment as he thinks about just how unfair life really is. The anger is replaced with defeat soon after and he is once again hit by reality as he starts to press the blade to his wrist, a sob escaping his mouth.

His eyes blur with tears behind his glasses, and he presses harder, letting out a scream.

Blood is running down his wrist and the pain has to be the worst he's ever felt. He's sobbing and screaming. He throws the blood-covered blade away from him, but it's too late.

The damage is done.

He screams out for his mother, his stepfather, he screams out any name he can think of. 

"MOM! DAD! PLEASE!" He curls in on himself as the blood gushes out of his wrist.

"LUKE! S-SARAH! MICHAEL! ROBERT! TRENT! MALLORY! C-" His voice breaks and his voice cracks continuously as he screams out in a broken whisper. "Calum... Anyone? please..."

Ashton starts to beg, he begins to confess every mistake-every wrongdoing he's ever done. The pain in his wrist starts to worsen and he lets out whimper after whimper.

Ashton starts to apologize and pray and just say whatever comes to his mind.

The pain is slowly fading as Ashton's thoughts become less comprehendable and his vision begins to darken.

"NO! NO! PLEASE!" Ashton's screams out, voice cracking leading him to shout it hoarsely. 

Reality begins to fade and Ashton lets go of the faint strand of it he was clutching and gripping for his life. 

Ashton closes his eyes with one last whimper and lets his tense muscles relax as the darkness consumes him.

~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N

Welp here's the first chapter.  :P

What did you think? Should I continue it?

If you ever need someone to talk to, please message me. I love every one of you. <3

-Kali