All of my 5sos work

The Accident: III

Everything went numb. I barely spoke as we went in the car, the whole time my mind just replayed letting him walking away from me. How dumb I was to let him go, I let him leave despite how much I love him- loved him. 

Each time we had some pathetic argument over the washing, or how much he overslept seemed pointless now, I'd give anything to go back to those days where we could lie together and just say whatever was bothering us. The days where we played games until the early hours of the morning, or times when he got sick and I nursed him to health which always resulted in me getting ill too and having to enforce Calum to help us both. Hearing his laughter float through the air like a feather, soft and delicately. The dimples that formed in the corner of his mouth showing how happy he was, they came out in times of pure joy and often never left his face when he was home. 

Arriving was difficult, looking up at the bleak building I hated the thought that he was inside there, that this would be his final stop before leaving for good. The door opened and my dad kept his face down whilst my mum stood by my side, helping me slowly get out and onto my feet. The specific details I was informed of as we walked towards the colder section of the place blurred as I tried to convince myself it was all some terrible dream, that all of this was just in my imagination and that soon I'd wake up by his side. No matter how hard I tried to wake up it was ineffective, I still walked with a slight limp towards the lift that echoed silence and down to the level where the atmosphere screamed morbidity. Hovering outside of a heavy door there was a large sheet of glass allowing us to glance inside much to my misfortune, I permitted ten seconds to myself, maybe less to look inside and try and avoid his body. 

Forcing my eyes away from my shoes I focused through blurred vision on a body across a table, blinking rapidly my breath hitched as the first thing I saw was the dark blonde hair. The ordeal only continued as I looked across his body, nothing seemed too distinct about him as the thin cloth covered him from the hips down. My ten seconds were up and I could barely stand looking at him, knowing he drew his last breath without me, I won't ever know his last words. 

A hand fell onto my shoulder and tried to suppress the shaking of my shoulders as the sobs continued. Turning into them I rested my hands on their chest as the tears continued to fall and everytime I blinked that version of him came to mind, it was burned into my memory and now I'll never forget it. "We are aware this is very difficult Miss, but we do need you to identify the body." The voice was supposed to be sympathetic but instead sounded more generic, as if he had said the same line over and over again that the words had no meaning, that these bodies had no story or origin before they turned up here. Instead they were just numbers and illnesses, accidents that just happen and the thought made me sick. 

Uncurling myself from my Dad I turned to face the Doctor, with bitter and hard eyes I just stared at him with no emotion. I let the tears roll down my face as I walked in front of my parents, no longer hiding in their shadow as the door opened and I walked in. Hiding the fear I felt rising in my throat I stood my ground, keeping my back straight and shoulders back but avoiding eye contact entirely. 

As the Doctor moved towards him a chill went through me again, last time we were this close I was lying in the hospital, the feeling of awkwardness between us lingered yet now he lies in a Morgue, the feeling only on my behalf. "Miss?" I snapped out of my thoughts as I locked eyes with him, not wanting to look at the body. "Is this Ashton Irwin?" Turning around I saw my parents through the glass, both ridden with concern as I froze on the spot but the encouragement by Dad held in his eyes did more than my response could do at this point. 

Taking a step closer I placed my hands on the metal feeling how icy it was, similar to the holiday in the snow we had, how excited I was about the snow, how he found it utterly adorable and we built a snowman or three. We had hot drinks and baths, we had cuddles watching movies, we laughed at the children playing outside and thought about our future together. But none of that matters as he lies there, what future could we have had? "May I, may I touch him?" I ask and the Doctor merely nods. 

"The injuries the body sustained were internal, as opposed to external." He spoke up as I saw a few bruises on his side along with cuts on his face, yet something seemed off. 

Lifting his wrist I gasped and let out a watery laugh, it fell back onto the table and I began to back away from him, from that body. I heard a thump and saw I was against the window, turning around my parents now looked petrified of their daughter who was sobbing yet smiling to them, my Mum was telling me something but I couldn't make out what it was she was mouthing to me. 

"It's not him." I told them but they didn't understand me, "It's not him it's not him it's not him!" The words came out as screams, proceeding to get louder as the fear continued to rise within me the Doctor stood near me and I could see him hovering. 

He called for me and I slowly turned around, bluntly looking at him. "How is it not him?" The noise that escaped my lips was close to a scoff as I forcefully wiped my face. 

"He hasn't got a tattoo Doctor," I pointed to his wrist and the Doctor began to look through his notes. "and I am not mistaken as I was the one who encouraged him, helped him decide what he should get. In response to him getting one he picked me one." Lifting my sleeve I showed him the two arrows on my upper arm. "Ashton picked one arrow as he always referred to me as knowing what I was doing, where I was heading roughly, how I'd always hit my target like an arrow." I can picture it now, after having them done I showed him how I got two rather than one, I told him that I got two as I couldn't hit my target alone, that he would always achieve along side with me and the second was for him, it always would be for him. 

Looking to the tattoos I can feel his soft lips kissing them after they healed, the giddiness he showed before telling me how much he loved me, that he'd never let me go. "Thank you Miss. You may go." Turning away I walked out to my parents who anxiously waited for me. As I approached them the facade I maintained inside was torn away and I collapsed at their feet, gripping onto their hands tightly. 

"Ashton's not dead." My words came out quietly, I was trying to convince myself that it was a statement, it was a fact. "He's still out there." My Dad knelt down next to me and wore a small smile, the sort that is displayed when all other forms of affection seem ineffective. 

"Guess we better find him then."