Broken Home

VIII

Ashton

Oh, god. Oh no.

Everyone knows now. There's no turning back now. Might as well just give up.

"Oh, my god." Connor gasped, looking down at my phone.

We were sitting in the living room of her house, which she begged her father to let me stay for a while. The second I we got here, I got on Twitter for no reason. I just wanted to know what was happening.

There was a hashtag, #AshtonCuts2k15, and the amount of hate I was getting was horrendous.

"Why would they say that?" I heard Connor whisper.

She passed me back my phone, shaking her head.

"I'm so sorry. We shouldn't have gone to the plaza." She apologized.

I stayed silent, trying to hold back my tears.

"Hey, do you want some hot chocolate?" She asked me, giving me a sympathetic smile.

I nodded my head, and she left the room. I started silently crying once I was sure she was gone.

They know.

There's nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

It's all over.

I should just give up.

It's not gonna get better.

How would it?

I miss Bryana.

She's probably getting way more hate than me.

Why did I do this?

Why did I do any of this?

What did I do to deserve this?

"Why're you crying?" A faint voice asked, startling me.

I stopped crying and wiped my face with my sleeve. I covered the bandages on my wrist with my sleeve and looked up.

Austin stood by the door, her brown hair messily falling in her face. Her once bright, brown eyes looked dull, her skin sickly pale. She wore her pajamas, and pink bunny slippers.

She coughed, it sounded like her throat was ripped to shreds.

"Are you sick?" I asked, my voice weary from crying.

I felt so embarrassed. She caught me crying again.

"Yes." She coughed again.

"Go back to bed. Get your rest." I told her.

"You were crying." She said.

"N-Yes. So?" I asked, trying to control my voice as it wavered.

"Why?"