More Than a Teacher - Ashton Irwin

64

He loved me and I didn't even get to say that I love him back.

Not even a goodbye.

I could have apologized or at least have said something considering I am the sole reason that this ordeal ended the way it did.

I'm so fucking selfish, I should have left him before it got too late. I regret ever agreeing to live with him and grow attached to him because look where it has ended.

I've killed him.

If I never existed in his life, this would have never happened. I should have stayed away from him, figured things out on my own and dropped out of school. I would have avoided pulling Ashton into this and I certainly wouldn't have had anything to do with that demon, the literal psychopath himself.

I wish death upon him. A slow painful, lonely death. Taking someone's life should instantly result in the death penalty themselves.

I can't even think about him, I can't even say his name because I will make it my mission to have his body so fucked up he's agonisingly wavering in and out of consciousness before he dies.

I didn't get to see what happened to the murderer. I dropped in Harry's arms where not too long later, I was being hoisted down the G block stairs.

It was a blur but I can recall having the paramedics catch my fist swinging at them. I was so upset that it made me delusional. All I wanted to do was run back inside the classroom and cling to my boyfriend; Tell him that I love him and that everything was going to be ok.

As I slowly come back to reality and my eyes groggily peel open in the dim room, I notice how sore my entire anatomy is. Every inch of my figure is aching. Even my elbows and knees itching relentlessly underneath the white cushioned patches that cover the damaged skin.

I have cords attached to stickers under my hospital gown and a cannula tapped to my hand with a long line hooked up to a saline bag on an IV pole beside my bed.

Why am I here? I wasn't the one who got shot. I have no injuries except for the tiny grazes to my skin. I'm fine, I shouldn't be here.

I look either side of me, a female and male nurse are either side of my bed. One untangling the electrode cords attached to my body and the other fixing the IV bag and punching in a number on the pump to control the speed of the drips.

They're watching me wake up. From whatever reason I was asleep anyway. The heart monitor to the side starts to make a slow, yet alarming beep, panicking myself as I have no idea why I'm
here.

I hate unfamiliar surroundings and this dimly lit room. Being confined in four plain walls with two people I've never met is very unsettling.

"Hi, you're ok. Just take your time." The young man with the standard blue scrubs on places a hand on my shoulder, intending it to be comforting but it's far from it.

"Do not, touch me." I seethe, locking my jaw.

I don't even take my watering eyes off the wall in front of me.

He quickly apologizes, removing his hand but still stays by my side, watching me continue to take in my surroundings.

"You've been sedated for a few hours because you were quite violen—" He continues as the other nurse fills a few things on her large computer-like device that rolls on wheels.

I cut him off instantaneously.

"I don't want to hear it." I monotonously speak, my stoic expression not budging.

I feel numb.

I glance at the clock in the corner, lazily moving my eyes to the side to watch the hand tick around the face.