Lost.

Chapter 5 // Sickness Everywhere

My back aches unbearably as I try to shift around to find a more comfortable spot within my bed. Bed? My butt aches as my body freezes, coated with a wet substance and covered with goose bumps. My teeth chatter as a warm object presses against my leg, the heat radiating off of the object, seeping to my cold leg.

"Bloody hell! What are you doing here?!" A parched Ash shouts with sleep laced through every word that comes out of his mouth.

My eyes shoot open frightened as I throw my alarm forward as self defense, punching Ash in the face, and kicking the steering wheel, causing a loud HONK to come from the car. Ash holds his jaw, wincing. My heart races violently as Ash looks at me incredulously with his dark blue, angry eyes. He glares at me before engulfing his face in his hands, rubbing the sleep from his entire face. His tanned skin looks clammy while his muscles can be seen even through his jacket.

"Answer me." Ash says sternly, suddenly grabbing my arm roughly, frightening me, while I try my best to speak through my raspy and burning throat. My body burns and shivers while I try to regain my sanity and consciousness.

This has happened before, when I've cried so hard, I'd pass out without my blankets, waking up feeling like muck. Sleeping in wet clothes didn't help that either. I can't believe I slept in a cold car, with wet clothes, and a boy who radiates so much heat. I was tempted several times last night to curl up against Ash's side and get heat. But I didn't want my drenched clothes to soak him as well and get him sick too.

"I.. I ..." My voice coming out scratchy and strained. "You were d-drunk and I w-was walking by, so I t-took you home." I chatter, rubbing my arms as my body screams out in pain and weakness. My head throbs painfully, while Ash looks at me confusedly.

"That doesn't mean you take me home and drive my car! I especially don't need help from you." He snaps at me, still gripping my arm tightly. "Just get out." He sighs. Tears stream down my burning face as I prop the door open and club out, stepping onto the wet gravel. Rain droplets hit my skin as I begin to shiver violently once more.

"Grey, where are you going?" He shouts through the rain. I turn my head back towards him, surprised that he's suddenly being nice to me. Well. Not necessarily, but asking a question in a nice manner right after he's barked at me like I was some bad dog.

"Home." I sniffle. "I don't want to see Leslie." I find myself confessing.

"Comeback, I'll take you home." Ash suddenly says forcefully, sighing loudly. Is he bipolar? First he's yelling at me, now he wants to take me home? Tears stream down my rosy cheeks harder as I turn my head back to look at Ash's tired face and shake my head 'no'.

I pace faster in the direction of my house as cars whizz pass me, their tires meeting with large puddles, causing the water to splash all over me. My clothes stick to my skin like paste. The feeling of no one coming for me is bitter sweet.

Half of me wanted to be alone and keep to myself so I don't have to deal with any problems that will hurt me further, but the other half wants to be held and talked to sweetly as if I were a fragile child on the verge of breaking. I mean, I already am, but, the reassurance that everything will be okay and I'll be advised by them for as long as I live will be good enough for me.

But nothing happens. The rain beats against me hard; my legs move weakly, my nose remains stuffy. Why was I so stupid to be helpful when I can't even help myself? I hate that about myself. When people face bad things, and I face even worse, I decide that being helpful is alright when it's absolutely, completely not. There are always consequences.

Why did I have to help Ash? Why couldn't I have just let him go and be? He probably would've enjoyed being away from my presence too.

Ash could've gotten into a car accident just like you and your sister did. He could've died and suffered the pain that would've been greater than yours. You would have to live with the guilt of knowing that you could've done something to prevent the death of another living, breathing being.