blue

XII

I looked at him.

The way his lips always parted ever so slightly when he slept and how his hand was always placed on his chest, moving up and down as his chest rose and fell, over and over again.

I looked at him even longer, now noticing the little creases along his cheeks and forehead, and the scar above his eyebrow.

I looked even longer, scared that if I blinked he would be gone,

but it wasn't him who was going to be gone, it was me.

I had to leave.

I felt myself getting attached to him and although I wish I could stay and cherish every moment with him, it's just not reality.

Because I, Melia Cronshaw, am the daughter of an abusive father and a psychotic mother. I had to save my mother and I couldn't let Ashton come with me. He meant too much to me and I know deep down I'm not getting out of this unharmed. As long as my mother ends up safe, though, I'll be okay.

I ran my fingers through his hair one last time, being cautious of not waking him up. I smiled, but I felt tears starting to sting my eyes. Will I ever find someone who believes in me again?

It was never my dad, and I can't even fathom thinking it's my mother anymore.

I'll be alone again, but it's okay. I'm used to it.

Black and white will surround me once again, but it's okay. I'm used to that, too.

This was all just a luxury. I don't need Ashton, and I don't need to see colours.

It's a want. I want Ashton, and I want colours. But sometimes we don't get what we want, no matter how hard we beg.

At least that's what I told myself in order to make this easier.

But when it's 3am and I'm dissolving into my bedroom floor because I feel unwanted and hated and alone again, I'll miss him.

But I won't go back to him.

I'll be too busy being invisible and searching for a way to see colours that isn't Ashton.

I leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cold cheek.

I wanted my last words to be meaningful.

"I love you," I whispered, the words getting caught in my breath which showed up as a white cloud due to the cold temperature. I watched as it whirled around his face for a few seconds before getting lost in the wind.

I looked at his rosy cheeks,

red.

I looked at his pastel t-shirt,

green.

I looked at his dark jeans,

black.

I looked at his icy eyes that i could only slightly see,

blue.

Those eyes would burn in my mind for the rest of my life, along with every other colour I was able to see in this short time.

As soon as it hit me that I might not ever see those eyes again, I started running.

I ran away from my problems, because I was too scared to face them.

It's going to come back and bite me. I think I was falling in love, for the first time. When I told him I loved him, I knew he wouldn't hear. It didn't mean anything.

I wasn't in love with Ashton, was I?

No. It's not possible; love is too heavy of an emotion for someone so emotionally drained as I to feel.

I kept running, my heart tearing apart in more ways than in half. My lungs burned but I didn't pay attention, because it was nothing compared to the pain that I feel when I'm alone.

As I finally collapsed on a patch of grass near the hospital, I knew what I had to do.
I had to find my mother and save her,
otherwise this would all be for nothing.

The blacks and whites around me didn't affect my running speed because as soon as I could breathe again I got back up and ran toward the hospital where my mom had to be.

The thought had never occurred to me that maybe she really didn't want me anymore.

Maybe I was right in the first place and she was just like John.

What if she just wanted test results and answers from me, exactly like everyone else?

I was a lab rat to every doctor, nurse, and therapist and I was fine with that.

But I would not allow my mother to think of me the same way, and that's what allowed me to run even faster. I had to get there before it was too late.

The hospital had to be only feet away.
I kept running until those feet turned to meters, then inches, then centimetres.

And finally, millimetres.

I was at the door to the lab and all I had to do was bring myself to open those doors.

My mind just wouldn't let me. I stood there, standing at the door and staring at the handle for seconds that turned into minutes.

One half of my mind was telling me to open it and that my mom would be there, begging me for help.

The other half was telling me to slam it shut as hard as possible because she would be there kissing John against a wall and telling him she loves him and how she can't wait to hurt me like he did.

I didn't know what to believe. My trust has been so broken thanks to John. He was a good guy at some point, or else my mom never would have married him. Therefore, there's no guarantee that my mom won't do the same and backstab me like that.

Or even worse,
Ashton.

I imagined how Ashton would feel when he woke up and I was no longer in his arms, keeping his body warm.
He'll probably convince himself that I just went to find a bathroom or maybe some water.

Oh, how he will be wrong.

I almost felt guilty, until I realized it was for the greater good.

My demons have won, once again.

That's why I didn't open that door handle. I ran back to shelter, away from the hospital and even father away from Ashton.

I wasn't going to save my mother and I wasn't going to let Ashton save me. The only person I can depend on was myself.

I won't depend on anyone ever again, because I've learned that they only let you down.

One person leaving doesn't hurt,
but when every person in your life leaves and you're constantly sleeping on a bed of broken promises that feel like nails piercing through your body, you learn to leave them before they can leave you.

And that's exactly what I was doing,
again.