Affliction | cashton |

Chapter Seventeen: Feeling

[TRIGGER WARNING don't read if you are easily triggered by reading stuff about suicide or suicidal thoughts. Don't read if you are gernally uncomfortable with the subject]

Dust flew off of the black bag that hung from the ceiling with each punch and kick that was thrown at it. Michael could almost see the anger that was more or less pouring out of the brunette. He was sitting in a metal fold up chair half way across the room from where the other boy stood.

Calum's hands were aching, but he couldn't feel it over the pain in his heart. The only sounds in the desolate gym was panting and the impact of Calum's fist on the punching bag. Anger and heartache was encouraging him to punch harder and kick faster.

It feels like an out of body experience. Like his mind and heart are too busy hurting to pay attention to what his body was doing. He was numb, everything around him seemed kind of blurry, he was panting and gasping for oxygen that didn't seem to ever find him. He wanted to feel something, because his knuckles are bloody and scratched due to the rough material of the punching bag but he can't feel it.

"Calum are you ok?" Michael asks. He gets up from his chair and rushes over to him. Calum's holds his hands out as Michael reaches him, helping him balance.

"Yeah I'm ok. Can you just take me home, I'm just tired" he said. Cold sweat was dripping down his back and forehead. He was shivering and his skin felt like ice. Yet he couldn't feel a thing. Michael nods, helping him out of the building. It was times like these where Michael wishes Calum would get in a car, he has a perfectly good truck that Calum won't step foot in, but Michael understands.

So he walks him to his apartments and guides him upstairs to the door. Michael leaves once Calum's in bed, a faint smile on his face when Michael stares down at him, which quickly fades when the elder leaves. Calum hears the door click shut, then footsteps descend down the hall.

Calum sits up, he lets the covers fall as he stands and walks to the bathroom. He's tried before, why not try again but this time he won't fail. With tears in his eyes and a trembling hand he picks up a bottle. He starts the bath water, leaving it on a cold setting. With all of his clothes on, he gets into the tub, lying down and letting the water fill around his body.

Oxycodone

It was an old bottle with about twenty pills in it. He used them when the accident first happened, when the pain was almost unbearable. He shook the pills out and held them in his hand, some almost fell into the bath water due to the shaking of his hand, but he managed to steady himself. He took two at a time, using the nasty tasting water to held them go down. Two pills at a time, ten times. Once all of the pills were down he laid back.

After about ten minutes his throat started to hurt, he could feel it, she was going to start not being able to breath.

Maybe if I just let go the pain will go away.

Maybe if I just go to sleep I won't wake up.

This world doesn't need me. The people around me don't need me.

All I do is feel miserable and scared, why should I want to live? How have I survived all this time? For the hopes of actually feeling better?

It just all seems so pointless.

My apartment can go to a nice family. Maybe they will be happier there than I was. The big apartment just feels like a cave where I go to hide.

If I'm not here anymore Ashton can go on with his life, without someone like me weighing down his heart. His hazel eyes only seem to show pain when I'm around, their too beautiful to be showing pain.

Michael and my family won't have to worry about me anymore.

Most important Ashton will be ok.

Ashton's hazel eyes can show happiness, without me.

With the hazel eyed boy in his head he smiled, his throat closing, his stomach and body aching. He was twitching violently, the bathwater going up to his neck and spilling over the edge of the bathtub. But it was ok, because soon he'll be asleep.

And soon came, and he was asleep.

-

He poured another shot, the liquid filling up to the top. Then he put it to his chapped lips and let it burn his throat as it went down. The bottle of Jack Daniels was halfway empty but it's ok, because he couldn't feel anything. Nia snatched the bottle of his hands and slammed it onto the table, almost breaking it with the impact. The girl was checking up on her friend, but when she got there the sight shocked him.

There were holes scattered on the walls, Ashton's knuckles bloody and scraped so obviously he had done it. Chairs were thrown around the apartment and there was a broken, hurting boy sitting on the old, ratty brown couch. His eyes were swollen red, cheeks tear stained, shirt wet with the alcohol that spilled out of the glass.

"Get up" Nia demanded. Ashton ignored her, trying to grab the bottle of alcohol. Once again Nia grabbed it, but this time held it in her hand tightly.

"Get out" Ashton said. His voice was hoarse and low. Nia scoffed, setting the bottle on the counter.

"You're pathetic. Instead of trying to get it together and get him back you're sitting on your couch drowning yourself in alcohol. Open your eyes Ashton, this isn't the way to get him back" Calum scolded. Ashton snapped his head up, anger once again filling his veins.

"There is no way to get him back! My eyes are perfectly open Nia. He is never going to take me back, we've never even been together and I already basically cheated on him twice. There is no getting him back Nia!" Ashton screamed. Maybe he was trying to get it through both of their heads.

"Not with that attitude" Nia muttered. Ashton glared at him, getting up from the couch. He grabbed his shoes and slipped them on. He ignored Nias questioning as he left his apartment.

He didn't know where he was going.

He didn't know why left.

He doesn't know why it feels like his heart is continuously shattering in his chest.

He can't feel anything anymore. He's oblivious to the tears on his cheeks, he's unaware of the shivering of his body, he can't even feel the pounding in his head.

He doesn't know when he got there, and he doesn't know what compelled him to press the button to the tenth floor. But when he got there the door was open, there was water and yellow caution tape everywhere. He walked to his bedroom, a sloshing sound filling the room as he walked. When there was nothing there he walked to the bathroom.

He saw the water of the bathtub and he read the label on the bottle,

and suddenly he felt everything.