The Therapist's Son // Ashton Irwin [AU] ✔

30.*

A/N: So, I haven't updated in a few months, sorry. I've had so much going on. I recently put my dog down, and broke up with my boyfriend and had finals in December and holidays and just...Its a mess, I'm sorry. I'm back now.

Ummm... TTS is almost over. This chapter does contain OD ans is pretty short. Some people are saying this story is getting too sad, but hey, in all honesty, it should have been expected. The story had a TW. If you wish to discontinue reading the story, fine...But who knows, maybe it'll have a happy ending....

*****

After I heard Ashton's car pull out of the driveway, I sunk to the floor, my back against the front door and I let myself drown. For what seemed like hours, I drowned in sorrow and self-pity and hatred.

Finally, I decided I couldn't take another minute. I was suffocating. This was it. The final straw.

Miraculously, I could handle losing my sister in a car accident. I could handle leaving behind everything I know and love to move halfway across the globe. I could handle only having one true trustworthy friend and a boyfriend. But I couldn't handle the fact that I had caused not only the death of my sister, but the death of Ashton's family too. He didn't have a father anymore. He didn't have a little brother or sister, and it was because of me.

"She doesn't even care about the others," Michael had told me. "You'll never understand."

Michael was right. I really didn't understand. I didn't understand how the world could keep moving while I was falling so far behind. I didn't understand why bad things happened to me when I tried so hard to be a good person. I didn't understand how Ashton could possibly fucking love me when I took his family from him.

I didn't deserve to live any longer. Who would care if I died? I wouldn't...

Numb and emotionless, my mind made up, I lifted myself from the ground, wiping the tears off my cheeks. I looked around the living room one more time before I walked down the hall to my bedroom.

Grabbing a bottle of sleeping pills from my bathroom cabinet, my feet padded across the carpeted floor to my bed. I crawled under my blankets, completely numb and already dead inside.

I thought about how my mom used to drag me to church all the time when we lived in California. I had believed for awhile. I had believed in a good God who loved his children. I believed in a God who was forgiving.

I hoped He would forgive me for this.

As my shaking hands fumbled with the pill bottle lid, my mom answered a business call at work in her usual business tone.

As I dropped the lid next to me on my bed's comforter, my dad laid in bed across the world fast asleep.

As I poured half the bottle of pills into my left hand, Luke threw his phone on his bed in frustration, pulling a sweatshirt on over his head and yelling to his mom he was going to a friend's house.

As I let out a final sob, closed my eyes, and prayed that God would understand, Ashton climbed the rope ladder to his treehouse, the one place where he felt safe enough to let his emotions out.

As I roughly swallowed and coughed, chest aching and throat dry, I thought of Ashley, and what I would say to her when I saw her again.

I laid down, ready for whatever laid ahead of me.