In Touch

Prologue, I'm a Train Wreck

Asher

The wind around me is fucking freezing, I didn't take a jacket because it wouldn't make a difference, I can never get warm standing in front of this god-damn house; if it can be even called that. It's the charred black ruins of a place I used to call home with people I loved, it seems so far away from that now.

It might start raining soon, I know the fire is already out now but I always think something about watching it get soaked again could help me, help me feel less guilty about what happened here. I want to feel the guilt gnawing in my chest forever but not for the fire, for them, for the people that I let perish in there until there was nothing left, and I was sure my guilt would kill my sanity.

They would hate how often I visit, but I need it, to help me remember because I am so frightened that I will forget, the mask I keep down one day won't come back up like a breath of fresh fucking air. Even with the pain, that I know they aren't coming back and staring at the house in the cold wind isn't going to change that, nor is it going to make it hurt the way I feel it should, I want the grief of their loss, not the guilt of it.

The guilt is all I have, and if I don't feel that drowning fucking weight of it then I won't feel anything else. I don't feel the way the internet and everyone else does and I am more fucked up than I thought for that alone.

She always comes for me when she realises that I'm gone, hating the way I revisit the wood like it will let me take back the promise I made them. I said I would leave, find what they couldn't but if I'm not staring back at the wood then how will I remember the small ache that lessens to a dull throb every time I leave.

They screamed, as the fire closed in around them, they were trying to be brave because I wouldn't look away, but they were so frightened. We were, what I thought was a normal family but how could we ever have of been when they couldn't get out.

"You shouldn't be here, it isn't healthy" Claire's voices echoes through the air, clear and sharp through the loud sounds of the wind howling around us. Reluctantly and despite her truth I turn to look at her, irritation persistent despite the clear view of her tits beneath her winter coat.

"And who's going to stop me? Certainly not my parents" I grumble, turning back to the wreckage and soaking in the ache before she yanks me away.

"I'm here!" she shoots back, hands flying to her hips, "And what about someone else that might not be looking out for your wellbeing, you aren't well-versed in self-defence"

I pissed her off, not that it isn't often she gets shitty with me and I do provoke it mostly. Angrily she grabs my wrist, manicured fingers digging into my skin as she drags me away from the remains of my home.

"I could" I inform her, tugging my wrist out of her grip. She is a good friend, makes me feel good on a regular basis but she's still a fucking bitch a good portion of the time.

"Just because you have power doesn't mean you know how to use it" She jabs, arching a dark eyebrow at me. Unlocking the door to her parents' house, and letting me inside, I moved in five months ago after my parents died, and they became the only people I had.

Our Mother's had been friends since high school, we didn't all hang out often, but it was enough to make a difference to my life growing up and how it has turned out now. It could be horrible to say but for a while I used to think Claire was far sadder than I was about the death of my parents than I was, and they didn't hang out on a regular schedule.

I know they aren't coming back, but it never feels real unless I am looking at the wreckage of that house until Claire comes looking for me with offers to get lost in.