All of my 5sos work

The Accident: IV

Does anyone know how it is supposed to feel? How I'm meant to respond to finding out he could potentially be somewhere, that he is elsewhere besides that metal slab being examined piece by piece. Sitting in the car I blocked out my parents conversation, ignored the hand that reached out to hold mine with reassurance in mind and remained closed off as I saw the scenes pass by, all seeming pointless without him next to me. 

After the unsettling afternoon of ongoing silence my parents agreed to take me home, they think it would be good for me to go back, try and resume life; a life without him. Yet my home is permanently haunted by him from the photographs that still linger on the walls as I can't bare to remove them and be left with blank slates, the over worked drum kit in the basement to the small patch of grass we called our garden where many drunken nights were spent just talking like the morning was never going to come. 

It breaks my heart thinking about a life without him, sure on every occasion he came in drunk I thought about leaving him- I did leave him and this is where things have ended up. It's all my fault. I am an awful person. Would it have been better if I just didn't wake up from that accident? 

Scenes that pass by become more familiar, the silhouettes of the trees against the sunsets always have been beautiful in my eyes, how the dark branches contrast against the vivid pastel shades as the sun retires for another enduring day. Trying to keep my breathing calm I close my eyes, blocking out everything again and focusing on the positives; he is out there, he could be okay, he can come home. A hand is placed on my ankle causing me to pull my legs closer to my chest as I remove my earphones and open my eyes, my Dad looks behind his seat to me with a small smile whilst my mum just brings her hand closer to herself, away from me once again. 

Out of the corner of my eye I see where we are, I see the dying flowers and the cracks in the pavement. I focus on the front door and the chips in the wood from every slam it has encountered, if I try hard enough I can see myself running and getting into my car, I see myself drive off blinking away tears whilst he stood in the middle of the road, swearing about the loss of something he could've held onto. 

Letting out a loud sigh I place my phone in my pocket and push the loose hairs out of my face as I unclick my seat belt once the car is stationary. "You sure sweetheart?" The reassuring words from my Mum ring as clear as day, it's as if I'm back at my first day of school, holding her hand tightly and not wanting to let go. Except now I'm older but the same element of fear lingers in my subconscious at the thought of going back to my own home after today, that poor soul- who was he anyway? 

All I knew is that he is someone's family, friends or even love and they may not even be aware that he's dead. A shiver went down my spine as I stepped outside, mentally hearing the screams and cries of those who cared for that man, the man who remained an anonymous broken body, who knows if they'll ever find out. 

Shaking the thought from my mind my Dad comes to my side and holds my arm, I pictured seeing us on my wedding day with this format as he would walk me down the aisle as we discussed in great depth when I was a little girl. The same conversation I had years later between myself and Ashton when he had three days off of tour, we spoke about plans- where we would want to be, who the Bridesmaids would be since the groomsmen was covered, what dress I'd have and how we'd dance - such a simpler time. 

Now we take small gradual steps towards the doorway, just as my Mum locks the car up I see the front door creaking open. Immediately I disconnect myself from my Dad and run towards it, bursting it open with my heart in my throat only to see my brother stood there, holding half of his face in his hand. Abruptly stopping I barely form words and merely point to his face, his visible eye goes wide as our parents stand behind us.