Frozen Solid // Alan Ashby

Chapter Twenty Four

Week fourteen.

Nothing's been able to cheer me up.

Not when Anouk and Phil took me to Disney land. Not when Mena dyed the under layer of my hair red. Not when Austin took me out for sushi. Not even when Amanda watched two seasons of supernatural with me. I was virtually emotionless and everyone knew why.

I was done with feeling sorry for myself, I just really wanted to know that Alan was okay. Destroying his body won't fix anything. Just because his problems aren't on his mind for a split second doesn't mean they disappear. He of all people should understand that.

I begged everyone to let me see him, but no one would. They said it was his choice. It hurt because I knew they were right, I can't make Alan want to see me. I can't make myself not want to see him either. I'm not sure what I can do in this situation.

I've completed weeks eleven, twelve and thirteen, which consisted of getting my hair dyed, buying shorts (which I wasn't too fond of), and going to an Arctic Monkeys concert with Jennifer.

Because of Alan, I'm not allowed going to Of Mice & Men concerts anymore; even though I've numerously promised that I'd leave Alan alone. I want to be able to support my friends, but because of my Anouk and Phil affection towards Alan, I can't do that anymore.

I wish I'd done things differently, kept things strictly platonic between the two of us, but I couldn't really hold myself back. He dragged me into this and now I'm stuck to deal with my stupid feelings all by myself. I wonder what he really thinks of me....

I wanted to watch a movie with Mena, but she's going to the concert tonight; it's Of Mice's last one in California before they go to South America for a month. So I'm stuck home alone, bored out of my fuzzy mind.

I was sat on my window seat, with the black acoustic guitar my father bought me as a 'sorry your mothers dead' gift. I didn't play it often, mostly because it brought dumb memories back. I didn't like choking on the dust of the past, so I try to hide from it when I can.

"There's a sadness in my heart, and it trickles down my spine. It burns a hole right through my chest, onto the other side." I sang as I softly plucked a string now and then, creating a sort of eerie sound. "Now it's living in my lungs, it's building its home there. With every brick and stone it lays, it's using up my air."

I slowly faded into silence, putting a cap on my self serenade. I didn't like the feeling. I don't really like anything nowadays. I leaned the guitar against the wall and grabbed my notebook out from the shelf, I wanted to read some of my old poems.

As I carried the book, a piece of paper fell out, gliding onto the floor below. I recognized it as the task list. I picked it up and scanned over Alan's messy printing. I remember watching him write it, his hair hanging over his pale face as he looked down at the blank sheet. He asked me what things I wanted most and I rambled off random experiences and materials; little did I know, all I wanted was him.

I watched a dot of water splat onto the paper, giving the ink a water colour affect. I quickly wiped my face and convinced myself that I was fine as I read over the list, even though I pretty much have it memorized.

'Week 13

Break a rule, or even better, multiple rules ;)'

He was so cheeky. Everything he ever said almost seemed to have some unknown underlaying meaning. I kind of like not being able to understand everything, it's always fun to guess.

There's very few rules I could break from home; my dad's only rule was 'don't leave without telling me.' I'd always send him a message when I was leaving, even if I was just going for a walk, I've been rude enough to him, I should hold him to a higher respect.