Suicide House // Lashton [COMPLETED]

15

Ashton sat on his sofa, staring at the TV. It was November 3rd and his only friend had died yesterday.

But what Ashton couldn't understand was: What had he done that night?

The night Calum's beloved Michael had been killed. What was Ashton doing?

November 1st

He couldn't see clearly, his vision blurred. He felt drunk. Stumbling down his stairs and opening the door, he left his house to walk the streets of Arizona.

No one saw what Ashton had seen. Not many people where out the evening of November. Ashton's continued to sway on the roads, not caring about cars.

He found himself in an alley way, still drunk on the thought of murder. A man had stumbled into the alley way too.  Ashton looked at him. He hadn't seen him like the other pedestrians, Ashton saw him as Luke. As a murderer.

Luke had never murdered anyone, but how was Ashton to know that? Luke had been murdered and was well aware of his murder's face. But how was he to tell anyone? Luke was not longer Luke but simply  a pronoun - he/him.

The stranger had continued to look at Ashton. But he then continued out of the alley way.

It wasn't Ashton's business to follow him- so he didn't.

However the man had pulled him out of his drunk state. He started to hold the strangers face in his mind. He was bizarre.

Was it even a man? Why where his eyes odd? His hair was black and white and he looked emo as fuck. This stranger was defiantly strange.

And so Ashton left. He left the alley way and started to make his way home. As he walked he saw another suspicious person. She was a girl with strawberry blond hair, running and laughing menacingly.

The girl looked familiar to Ashton. The girl from the library.

Just before he entered his home he saw a final stranger. A man sitting on the side of the road, holding a butcher knife. The biggest fucking knife, carving the road.

Ashton went inside his house and collapsed onto his bed falling asleep.

November 3rd

Ashton rethought that evening, over and over again. It was defiantly not him. But those three people he saw that evening, it could've been any one of them. But how was he to know? He didn't know their name. Only their face.

Even Light Yagomi wouldn't be able to kill them.

He sat, still. Staring at the TV, still. Everything was still. But his mind wasn't. It was racing. The death of the Hemmings' family surely couldn't be connected to the death of Michael Clifford? Which was aimed to affect Calum Hood.

And Ashton had no clue. He had no fucking clue of what was going on in this new town, Belleville.

A/N what the fuck. This is not how I planned the story to go. Now it's a fucking investigation shitty book. But YO ASHTON DIDNT KILL MIKEY. I'll give you a clue to who did. It was one of the three people that he saw that evening. But which one? And why? Feel free to guess.

I'm open to any suggestions to the story. Basically I forgot the plot and ended up with this shit. So I am really sorry, I personally hate this chapter but meh again I'm sorry.

FINALLY, IF I WROTE A FRERARD BOOK WOULD ANYBODY READ IT? X

Aurevoir and gracias for reading!

~Seb