*NOTE: I wrote this to try and thank Ashton for the impact he's had on my life and many others with a similar past. I am in no way glamourizing self-harm, suicide, or mental illness. If you or anyone you know are having suicidal thoughts or actions please call a suicide hotline (US 1-800-273-8255). If you ever need someone to listen who understands what you're going through, message me any time on Twitter (@lukecumberhemmo). Thanks for reading!
It was late when I got home. I was exhausted from my job at a trendy restaurant in downtown Sydney and I was looking forward to cuddling up in bed. I unlocked the door to the highrise apartment I shared with my boyfriend, Ashton. As soon as I walked in I knew something was wrong. It was almost 3 am and the light in the bathroom down the hall was still on. Ashton just got home from touring with his band the night before, and I knew he was tired. There's no way he'd still be awake, and I heard none of his thunderous snores coming from our bedroom.
"Babe?" I called down the hall. No answer. Panicking, I ran towards the bathroom where I found Ashton sitting on the marble tile crying in a pool of blood.
"Oh my god, baby, what happened?!" I screamed running towards him to help.
"I couldn't take it anymore," he replied. "There was so much hate on the internet, they even made a hashtag telling me to do this. I felt so disconnected while I was on tour, from you, from my family and from reality. I was losing myself. Then I got home and you were gone, and I was alone. I got on twitter and all I read was hate. All those old feelings came back at once. I'm so sorry." The closer I got to him, the sicker I felt. Two long, bleeding cuts ran vertically down his arms. His bare chest was covered in cuts and blood. His eyes were puffy and red from crying. His blonde curls went in all different directions, like someone had tried to pull them out. His phone laid on the ground across the room, the glass screen shattered into tiny pieces.
I swear as I stood in the doorway and stared at his body, I forgot how to breathe. The boy I loved, who had a smile that could make flowers grow, sat in front of me on the cold tile of our bathroom floor, bleeding to death. I picked up his broken phone and tried to call for help. He sat leaning against the antique clawfoot tub we picked out at an auction last year. His arms laid at his side and his head was slumped on his chest. He just sat there at stared at me with sad eyes. I grabbed towels off the rack on the wall and tried to stop his bleeding.
"Ashton we need to help you. Stay here baby, I'm calling for an ambulance. Oh my god, babe what have you done? I love you, Ash. Please stay with me." I was crying so hard I could barely dial 911. "The ambulance is on its way Ashton. Please don't leave me. I love you so much. Oh baby, what did you do?" He was shaking and looked so pale.
"I'm sorry." were his last words before he collapsed.
HIIII thank you for reading! This is my first fanfic so be gentle! I'm sorry the title is really lame, I couldn't think of anything else. I'll try to update the chapters as much as I can. I was thinking about adding a few chapters from other characters POVs? Comment and let me know what you think! Feel free to vote and share as well. I hope you like what I've done so far! -Mollie
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The Fault in our Scars - Ashton Irwin
Fanfiction"How do you take these beautiful, fragile pieces and put them back together to create the masterpiece that once was?"
