Weightless (lashton au)

Chapter four

Holy shit nuggets I didn't think anyone liked this story but all of your comments on my authors note were amazing wow
Thanks to @staystrong_iloveyou ONCE AGAIN she helped me think of ideas for this story haha
I hope this isn't shitty because I'm actually trying here ok sorry about my temporary break down... ALSO IM GONNA START PUTTING SONGS IN THE BEGINNING OF CHAPTERS YAY it probably won't have anything to do with the chapter but idk
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"Manage me, I'm a mess
Turn a page, I'm a book
Half unread

I wanna be laughed at
Laughed with, just because

I wanna feel weightless
And that should be enough."

~Weightless by All Time Low

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Ashton's POV

The worst time of my day was now here. I had to leave the library. It has slowly become my safe haven. Today, I was the one who had to lock up, so I had to shoo Michael out of the building or I threatened to lock him in there.

I knew Michael didn't take me very seriously, since he has claimed multiple times that I'd never hurt a fly. But today I was tired. He seemed to notice I wasn't up for his stupid games, so he didn't play around. We both said our goodbyes and parted ways.

I sighed and ignited the engine of my uncle's ugly mini van. It was old, but it worked and that's all that mattered. The rusty car sputtered down the road as I made turns onto familiar streets. If it weren't for the lights from the headlights, other cars and street lights aligned along the road it would've been pitch black outside. Although, I always thought it was unfortunate that all of the artificial lights in the city made it hard to see the stars. I always loved looking up at the sky as a kid; the stars twinkled and the moon lit up the sky in a silver hue. But now, the sky was just black. No stars, and the moon was so, so far away.

I sighed as I reached my street. My heart started pounding.

Once I backed into the driveway of my house, I sat in the car, and pulled my knees up against my chest. I rested my head down on my knees, and felt my heart beat quicken once again. My hands were shaky and sweaty.

I was scared.

I didn't live alone. I lived with my uncle. I know it's lame that I don't have a place of my own by now, but I couldn't gather enough money to invest in anything of the sort. My uncle used all of our money on cigarettes and alcohol. I was stuck here, basically.

I felt like a Disney princess or something--like Rapunzel. Except my life wasn't some cliché romance, where my knight in shining armor comes to rescue me from an evil enchantress that's keeping me locked away in a tower. No, my life was all too real. There's no knight in shining armor, there's no tower, no evil enchantress, no magic. No stupid happy endings. Just my pathetic self, my disgusting uncle, a house I hate, and pain. So much pain, I could've died so many times already. I've tried, I've tried so hard, but nothing goes right for me, so something always prevents me from going to my actual home. My better home.

I squeezed my eyes shut as I felt tears flood my closed eye lids. This always happens to me when I'm alone. There's a lump in my throat. It burns, I wanted to scream, cry, and curse that life isn't fair. I've been okay for too long, and now I felt myself slowly begin to break again. The scars were fading, I was smiling again. My family loved me. I wasn't a disappointment.

One day, just that one day made my life fall to shit for the first time. I came out to my dad. I was so confused, I was only fifteen then. Young and vulnerable. My dad couldn't believe it. His only son--gay? He left the house without a word. My dad was the only person I had left at the moment, and it hurt that he didn't accept me. It hurt a lot. I fled to my room and broke down. I cried for so long, my pillow had a huge wet spot from my tears. He didn't handle it well at all like I thought he would. If my dad really loved me, then couldn't he see past my sexuality and love me for who I am? I was still Ashton Irwin, nothing had changed.

My dad couldn't see that. If my own father didn't love me, then how could I love myself?

I always wondered how my mom would react to me being gay. Would she accept me? Would she leave me like dad did? I will never know. She died of cancer when I was six years old. I barely remember her, but I have vague memories of soft brown hair and happy smiles.

My dad never came back. I didn't want to know where he was, either. I would never forgive him for what he did to me.

So here I am. I was forced to live with my closest relative, which so happened to be my alcoholic uncle. He never liked me, and when he figured out I was gay, from my father I'm guessing, that's when he got physical. So many times I could've called the police, but I couldn't. He yelled at me not to tell anyone about this. About how he hurt me. It's lessened the last few days, but it still hasn't completely stopped.

I wiped my tears away and shakily got out of the car. I really needed to stop thinking so much. I'm slowly killing myself with family tragedies and self-hate.

Once I quietly stepped inside the house, I sighed in relief when I saw my uncle was passed out on the couch surrounded by empty beer bottles. He snored like a chainsaw as I held my breath when I tip-toed past him. I felt the bruises on my stomach he left from a week ago begin to hurt again.

~Triggering part ahead :(

I went straight to the bathroom. My hands shook as I searched for my blade in the cabinets and under the sink. I hadn't used it in months. I tried to get myself to stop, but I knew I wouldn't stay clean forever. Today I was going to relapse. I've been itching to do it ever since I stopped. Once I opened one of the top cabinets, the blade immediately fell out and landed in the sink. I stared at the piece of metal.

I felt sick. My stomach was churning as I wiped my clammy hands on my sweater. It's nothing new to me, so why am I so nervous?

I was afraid of what people would think of me. If Luke saw my scars, he would hate me. He'd think I'm a freak for wanting to hurt myself. I really liked Luke, and I was terrified. Michael wouldn't want to be my friend anymore, and my uncle already thinks I'm disgusting, so it didn't really matter.

Fuck them, I needed to do this. If Luke and Michael tell me I'm pathetic and worthless, then I'll just agree with them. It's true.

I reached down and gripped my blade. It dug into the skin on my fingers. I was going to do this. I had too. I rolled my sleeves up to expose my clean wrists. If you looked close enough, you could see slight scarring here and there. When my sleeve rolled down when I was talking to Luke, I was afraid he'd be able to see the scars, but it was basically all gone.

That was going to change.

I brought my blade up to the inside of my left wrist. Without thinking, I pressed down and slid across the skin. Immediately after, a crimson dotted line formed where I dragged it. I harshly bit my lip to stop myself from crying out in pain. I was such a coward.

I made another slash. Blood dripped from my arm into the sink. Tears blurred my vision as I made one cut after the other. Vertically and horizontally. All I could see was red.

I began to feel light-headed. I was numb. Once there was no skin left untouched, I dropped the blade. It landed in the sink with a metallic clatter as I cleaned all of the blood out of the sink and wrapped my cuts. Once I got rid of all of the evidence, I silently shut the bathroom door and crawled into my bed.

The stinging of my arms, my red and tired eyes and thoughts of Luke lulled me into a restless night of tossing and turning.

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I actually meant for this story to be cute and fluffy but all of my stories end up being depressing so I'm sorry about that... I hope this didn't suck aha bye ~Hannah