Broken Home

XII

TRIGGER WARNING !!!!!!!!!!

Ashton

"I don't know." I told her.

"You're gonna have to start finding somewhere to stay, 'cause you can't stay forever." She said, putting a forkful of eggs in her mouth.

"I know that." I sighed.

I truly wanted to go back to Luke and Michael and Calum, but I can't. I've already left, it's too late to go back.

"I could help you find a place to live." Connor said, sipping her orange juice.

She's been looking pretty sad recently. Probably because Austin passed. I only knew Austin for a while, but I'm kind of sad she's gone. It must be hard for Connor, having to move on from that.

I mean, Lauren and Harry are still alive and healthy, living with Mum. That reminds me, what do they think of me now?

They're probably disappointed in me.

Anyways, it must be tough for Connor to have to move on from her sister's passing. I would be so sad if Lauren died. I would cry her a river.

"Hello? Earth to Ashton?" Connor waved her hand in my face, breaking my train of thought.

"Huh?" I looked up at her.

"I said, one of my friends is coming over later." She told me.

"Oh. Um, cool." I said, unsure of what that meant for me.

"Be nice, and please don't start any fights with him." She said, biting into her toast.

"Why would I?"

"You might not like him."

"Why?"

"He's," she sighed. "Different."

I tried to imagine what she meant by different.

"And he's very sensitive. So almost anything would get him mad."

"Uh, okay."

We sat in silence, she was finishing her breakfast while I was done. It was kind of awkward, but it gave me some time to actually think.

Like I don't do enough.

I've been growing a hate for silence. It's like that song, Car Radio. When there's no sound, no noise, no body is talking, I get sucked into a deep hole of thoughts.

Dark thoughts.

Ones about Bryana, probably living a better life without me.

Ones about the boys, probably forgetting about me.

Ones about the fans, probably going crazy.

Ones about the sadness that takes over my body from time to time.

Ones about cutting, the beautiful pain I get and deserve with each and every cut.

Ones about being alone, having no one at all anymore.

Ones about love, the thing I don't have.

Ones about happiness, the thing I'll never feel again.

Ones about death, how everything would be better if I just died.

But I can't escape the silence.

I can't escape the thoughts.

They haunt me, every second I'm awake and asleep.

Sometimes quiet is violent.