ashton's body lies unconcious in a bathtub full of red coloured water. my body shakes at the sight of him looking so weak and lifeless. my stomach churns. this can't be real. this can't be ashton. he's alive, right? i left and he was fine. he was a little upset, but he was okay, right?
i'm so stupid. why did i leave him by himself? it's all my fault. i'm such an idiot. i just thought he needed some space. i should've pleaded him to open the door. what kind of person leaves their friend by themselves when they're clearly upset? my face burns as the e.m.ts lift ashton onto the stretcher. the fact that he has on soaked boxers and a grey shirt on top of a long sleeved one proves my assumption that all of this was on purpose.
