Autumn nights

Chapter 2

I jolt outta bed. My hearts racing, it's beating so hard I can feel it in my throat. I can feel the sweat run down my face. Or is it tears? He's gone. And the only thing I have left of him is my dreams. I can't remember him in my thoughts. It's like he completely vanished. It's as if he never existed physically. But he did. We did. He disappears when I open my eyes.

I glance over at my small, cluttered nightstand. The little tiny blue clock read 2:14 a.m. It's the same dream every night. I wake up at the exact same time every night. It's a never ending cycle. That's why I usually choose not to sleep. He can't haunt me if I don't sleep.

I hear footsteps approaching the door, followed by a small knock.

"Yes" my voice comes out small but hoarse.

It starts to open, squeaking and echoing the halls.

"Ashton, are you okay? I heard you holler and I just wanted to check on you."

My roommate Paisleys soft, strong voice fills the room.

"Yeah, I think I'm okay. I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay." And with that she closes the door.

Paisley and I use to get along so great. We were inseparable until that night. The night my world came crashing down. She doesn't approve of my coping mechanisms. She's more of the shy, I'd rather stay home than get ebola. I'm more of the fuck it let's take these drugs and see what happens.

I wasn't always like this. He changed me. He gave me his demons. And I willingly took them with open arms not caring about the after shock. Not caring about anything but him. He could of killed me and my dumbass would come back smiling saying do it again.

I spend most of my days just sitting on the train tracks outside of town. There's a small spot that not many people know about. It's a good few miles with nothing but threes on both sides and hobo huts. On the second curve of the tracks is a bridge and if you look down it's a far drop. But the view is worth it. I spend hours thinking, or just completely lost in nothing. Not even my own thoughts. Not even looking at anything just literally physically being.

It's been seven years since I've seen him. Seven years since I've heard his voice or felt his touch. It's draining me. Its making me crazy. He was my drug. I got high from the sweetness of his breath. I got high from the smoothness of his voice. And he cut me off. Just like that. With the snap of his fingers and he was gone. Like magic. Like fucking magic. Yet I'm the one suffering. I'm the one dying inside and out.

I climb out of bed and make my way to the bathroom right outside the bedroom. Jesus Christ this floor is cold. I keep forgetting to buy slippers because I bitch every morning about it. I flip the light on and the bright lights surrounding the floor length mirror light up. The familiar boring white walls stare back at me. The walls that once held all of his beautiful scripture covered with different shades of white. I grab the black shower curtain to pull it back so I can wash the dream away.

"Ashton!"
And I drop.