Disconnected || lashton {au}

Chapter 1

Ashton's POV:

"What is wrong with me" I tugged at my fair curls as I frantically searched my bedroom top to bottom, scratching at my wrists and thighs. I remembered; I had thrown my blades out almost a year ago, in attempt to quit, I had to, in fact had no idea why I started in the first place.

It was going fine; sure I had the urge every now and again for the cool metal on my skin, but this was overwhelming. Everything had become too much. I raved through my stationary drawer and found an old sharpener, the blades in it still shiny. I grabbed a screwdriver and finally lifted the shiny metal out of its home. I looked at the blade almost lovingly as it's edge caused tiny beads of red on my skin as it passed. Again and again, I slashed my thighs until the tears in my eyes blurred my vision almost completely. It didn't hurt, to me, it felt almost kind, the blade in my trembling hands was doing me a favour, taking the pain away, instead of causing more.

In my empty house, I hobbled over to the bathroom, careful not to get too much blood on the beige carpet, though it was inevitable. I crouched in the bathtub and let the cool water wash over my torn pale skin until the flow was clean. this was how I used to spend most of my Sunday afternoons, when mums at work, yes I still live with her, I'm only 17. Back to old habits, I guess, I haven't done this since 10 months ago.

Basically I was still dwelling over my father. It was pathetic, and I hated it, but I couldn't help but let him invade my thoughts and ruin me, slowly but surely. I was falling apart because of the pathetic asshole.

Luke's POV

"Pass" Calum groggily commanded, gesturing toward the blunt in my hand. He snatched it anyway and began smoking it. This is the life of a typical 17 year old, right? I'm not a freak. Sweating, drunk bodies filled the room, the smell of the smoke suffocating. But I was used to it, this was my life. I took another gulp of the beer in my hand and some dick grabbed it and poured it over my honey blond quiff. Asshole. He's jealous, I'm hot as fuck and he's an ugly fag, though I don't actually know who that was. He paraded away and I caught sight of the back of him, though he was all blurry and wobbly.

Skunkhead. Damnit, Michael I'll kill him. His stupid blond and black hair he looked like a damn skunk. Definately an ugly fag.

Calum has passed out but I'm not sure if it was from the heat of the room or the amount of drug in his body, but he got trampled as the night went on. His almost black hair was flattened against his head and his favourite NASA shirt dusted with filthy footprints. He really was getting trampled.

Oh well, can't be fucked.