Burn ▹ Ashton Irwin

twenty one

I've had my shaking body leaned up the gross and dirty wall of the gas station's bathroom for 10 minutes, now. I haven't said anything, for I was still out of breath from all the running I had just taken part in and I couldn't think of anything worth saying. Within this time tonight I feel like I've done too many things, and all those things just so happen to be not only dangerous, but extremely life-threatening as well.

I have remained silent this whole time as I stood there with my arms limply crossed over my chest and my eyes glued to Ashton. Even though this random gas station's bathroom was for both genders, I still felt the odd stares people gave us when Ashton dragged me in here.

"God dammit," he muttered, splashing more water from the sink to clean his cuts off. He's been cleaning off his face in the grumy sink for what's felt like hours, but it's only been a few minutes so far. We haven't said anything to each other since we got away from Bryan, because I personally felt too weak to even listen. Tonight has been yet another night that I wonder how we're both still alive, and that I fully regret being a part of.

"Why is blood so hard to rinse off?" he asked, looking up at me with water dripping down his face. I could tell that he wanted to somehow start a conversation, but I couldn't get myself to say anything back. I just felt so weak all of a sudden, like all the adrenaline that was once inside my body had been zapped right out of me. And who's to blame for all the discomfort and silence I felt?

I'll blame it on that stupid gun, if I can't blame anyone else. This is the second time in like, a month, that I've been threatened against my will and painfully forced to surrender under the other person's command. I can remember tonight's past events so perfectly though most of it seemed like a blur to me. I felt like I was ontop of the world the moment I snatched those drugs off the table, but those feelings didn't last very long. I knew that Ashton wanted me to do it and I was willing to help him, but how could I have been so weak (and rather stupid) when the plan was all up? It was never a very smart plan to begin with, but what makes these plans work everytime is the fact that Ashton is the one making them up. And even though they may be quick and poorly thought out plans, he somehow finds away to make them almost brilliant at the same time.

But as I was saying. Staring into the eye of a fully loaded gun is probably the most terrifying thing I've ever experienced...twice now. This has happened two times, once when Derek threatened to kill me, and then tonight. And even though its now plain to see that Elliot was never going to shoot me, all the same feelings from the previous time were here. All the things I felt when I was tied to Derek's chair felt like a direct reoccurance tonight. It gave me this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach and I didn't know what it was.

"Alright. Close enough," Ashton shrugged, drying his face with his shirt. He finished with a heavy sigh and casually looked over to me. "Well that was fun, yeah?"

I didn't respond right away. Instead, I found myself glaring up at him with my arms still crossed over my chest and a small pout on my lips. I would be lying if I said that even though Ashton's last-minute plan worked, it still kind of pissed me off. I mean - he literally told Elliot to shoot my head off...in fact, Ashton demanded that he killed me without even telling me that it was even an option.

Obviously, now I know that Ashton was pulling some reverse psychology on the guy, but still. The only reason why I know that is because that's the only reason I can think of. But Ashton's never met Elliot, or any of those guys for that matter...so how could Ashton have possibly known that Elliot wasn't capable of actually killing me? How did he know that his sudden stunt would actually work? Deep down it made me think that Ashton wouldn't have minded if Eliot actually did pull the trigger. But that can't be right...right?