Gone || Ashton Irwin

Chapter 5

“Valerie, sweetie. You have to get up.”

“Leave me alone.” I mutter, pulling the sheets over my head.

“You have to go to school.” My mom tells me quietly, resting her hand on my shoulder.

“Don’t.” I mumble, flinching away from her touch.

“At least come eat breakfast.”

“I’m not hungry.” I whisper.

“Valerie, you haven’t eaten in two days.” She tells me quietly.

“Leave me alone.” I repeat. “Just go to work or something and let me lay in bed and cry for the rest of my fucking pitiful life.”

“Valerie, I will not have you saying things like that-”

“Just fucking leave me alone!” I scream, letting out another sob.

“I love you.” She whispers before standing up and leaving my room. The front door shuts a few minutes later but I stay in bed, my shoulders rising and falling with every sob I let out.

I lay in bed for another hour until my crying subsides and sit up slowly, rubbing my eyes. I run my fingers through my hair and stand up. I tug Ashton’s shirt down a little bit, even though it’s already half way down my thighs, and walk into the kitchen. I grab a glass of water and stare blankly at the clock on the microwave.

My phone rings, bringing me back to reality. I look at it slowly before picking it up.

“Hello?”

“Hi.”

“Come over?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” I whisper, ending the call and putting my phone on the kitchen counter before taking another drink of water. I set the glass down on the counter once it’s empty and sigh before dragging my feet across the floor. I lift the collar of Ashton’s shirt to my nose and take a deep breath, taking in his lingering scent that’s already starting to fade.

I take a seat at the kitchen table and stare blankly at the wall. My thoughts have been all over the place lately, but it’s almost like I don’t have any. I can’t seem to focus on one thing. Not even Ashton. I never let myself think about him for too long.

The front door opens and Luke steps inside without a word. I stand up and we both walk into my room. He looks at me and I bite down on my lip. He has bags under his eyes, his hair is a mess and he’s still in his pajamas.

He crawls into my bed, pulling the covers over him. I follow his actions and he pulls me into him, wrapping his arms around me. We lay in silence, the only sound the quiet humming of the air conditioning.

“Luke?” I whisper after a while.

“Yeah?”

“Do you miss him?”

“Hell yeah.”

“Me too.”

“I know.”  He whispers, trailing his fingers up and down my arm. I shudder at his touch, getting goose bumps where his fingers trace. But it’s not the same. He’s not Ashton.

“What are we supposed to do?” I ask, my voice shaking slightly.

“Live.” Is his response.

“But I don’t want to.” I whisper quietly.

“Neither do I.” He replies gently.

Then we don’t talk.

 

~~~

 

“Fuck!” I scream, throwing another glass at the wall. It shatters, sending glass falling over the floor. There’s tear stains on my cheeks and blood on my hands. The floor is a mess. I’ve gone through almost everything we own that’s glass in the past ten minutes.

“Fuck this!” I yell, grabbing a bowl and throwing it on the floor in front of me. “Fuck you, Ashton! Fuck you!” I scream at nothing, feeling my shoulders rising and falling heavily. “Fuck you for leaving me!” I let out weakly, falling to my knees, feeling shards of glass digging into them. I let out a whimper as I pick the blood covered pieces out of my skin. I run my fingers through my hair and let out another sob, bringing my knees to my chest.

I don’t know why I feel so empty. It’s not like he’s dead. But he might as well be. He’s not here. He’s not the same.  He’s changed. He’s so different. He promised me he’d get better. He promised. He can’t break his promise to me. He just can’t.

“Letter.” I mutter. “I need to write him a letter.” I say with a strangled laugh. I stand up and hop on top of the counter, avoiding the glass shards covering the floor. I hop off the other side and head into my bedroom. I get a notebook off of my desk and a pencil. They’re sitting by the wilted roses he gave me that night. I screw my eyes shut and take a deep breath before walking over to my bed.

“Fuck.” I mutter, looking at the blood dripping onto the notebook paper. I grab the paper and crinkle it into a ball before throwing it at my wall. I wipe my hands onto my blanket before picking the pencil up and looking at a new piece of paper.

I stare at the paper for a while, wondering what in the hell I could possibly say to him. The last time he saw me, I was a wreck. I take a deep breath before picking up the pencil and scribbling down three words over and over and over again until the front and the back of the page are full.