One by one || 5sos

0.5 || l i q o u r b o t t l e s

Despite their worries life still went on, they learned to put the past behind them, well tried to.

They would have a drink for the fallen every Saturday night, and a trip to the graveyard on Sunday evening.

Just five teenagers crying on each other with alcohol in their body and sorrow on their minds.

"Here Michael drink up." Calum slurred as he passed another bottle to his heavyweight friend.

Michael clasped the bottle around his chapped lips and downed the drink in one, his vision became blurry as his body became jumpy.

Luke stared at Ashton who sat in the corner of the room with a joint, he let the smoke float away but the same didn't go for his worries.

The blonde would sit there every Saturday night with a few bottles and his roll up, it eased his mind off of the pain that was inflicted upon him that night, so with every smoke he remembered something he loved about her.

-

"Ashton you can't have the whole bottle you pillock!" Amy drunkenly laughed as she snatched the bottle off the boy beside her.

The two were dancing under a night sky talking about their fears and their achievements. It was a fairly deep hearted topic, but the alcohol numbed the sorrow.

"Oh my dear Amy," Ashton fell to his knees, the earth caked his exposed skin as his hands beat his chest melodramatically.

The girl chuckled softly, cautiously catching on, "Yes dear,"

The boy ripped a daisy out of the field of daffodils and tied the ends of the dead flower, "Oh my love marry me under this broken night!"

Amy squealed and fell to the ground beside Ashton taking the ring and placing it on her right hand, she smirked and gave him a big sloppy kiss on the cheek.

-

He would come around at times to sit in a circle by the people who kept him alive, their hands together as they spoke to their friends up above, it wasn't a superitious ritual, instead it let comfort reside in them for that one night.

That one night where their minds were on a high they would confide in each other, they would get wasted and tell each other what made them upset.

The trick of it was that they all forgot the next day.

Ashton of course didn't speak, he held up a board and wrote down what he wanted to say or would communicate it through sign language with Serena.

And Serena, she would often sit there blaming herself for what happened. She knew that the devil was after her, her friends were merely pawns in the game.

She was frightened after that night, never had she felt so vulnerable, so weak.

But Luke, the blue eyed blonde helped her overcome it, in a way.

The two would often stay over at each others houses, their parents utterly blinded to their relationship of course, and the two would fall asleep, their limbs entangled in a messy embrace.

Arms were draped over broken bones, mumbling words would escape tired mouths and the two would doze off to the soft beat coming through the stereo.

-

Hands in hands.
Bottles in a row.
Cigarettes in the ash trays.
And Michael was talking.

"I saw her again, white and blue hair with blue eyes, she told me something,"

Remember it was mentioned how the group were always drunk?

One of them wasn't.

"She told me that he's going to come after us,"

A muffled cry was all to be heard, the sober member remained anonymous to their peers, the possibility of going through the torture was sickening, disgusting, horrifying.

Michael spoke again, his hands formed a small gun, "One by one you'll all be dead, he's going to shoot a bullet through your head."

The gun landed on Luke.

They all broke out into a fit of laughter, with clinking bottles and stitches.
All except one.

-

where is this going o help me