𝑯𝑨𝑹𝑴 & 𝑯𝑶𝑷𝑬; 𝑳𝑨𝑺𝑯𝑻𝑶𝑵

chapter 7

disclaimer: suicide mentioned in this chapter, self-harm.

*unedited*

ashtons POV:

why am i so insecure? why must i always ruin everything just because i'm a piece of shit?

i don't deserve luke, he deserves so much more than me.

you'd think i'd be happy now that i'm with the man i've loved for years, but now i feel like it's all fake and he's just playing me, not wanting to feel bad.

of course, luke wouldn't do that, but i still feel like that's what happening. there's no way luke hemmings likes me.

so here i am, sitting on my bed, crying into my hands and trying not to hurt myself.

i don't want to hurt myself, i know that luke won't like that and he'll hate me even more.

but, i also need to do it, without it i'd already be dead. but i know that i can't die, because then the boys would have to pretend to be sad and not continue doing music for a bit until it's been long enough and they can find another drummer.

i mean, i am only the drummer. i get the least attention because anyone else can do what i do just as well as me. i'm not special, i don't have a special voice, i just drum. anyone can do that, so i'm practically useless anyway.

they don't need me, no one will ever need me. i'm just here, living in a shell that i don't want to be in, feeling like shit about myself daily.

i want to fly, i want to fly and never have to face the harsh reality of this world. i want things to be easy, and for all the hurt to just go away.

i'm sick of hurting, i'm sick of the insecurities stopping me from being happy like the rest of the boys. why am i even here if i can never even put on a real smile?

i don't deserve to be in this band, i don't deserve to have people who look up to me, i don't deserve luke to love me, i don't deserve any of it, i don't deserve anything.

i know that right now i'm going to do something stupid because nothing is helping, nothing is fixing this everlasting miserableness that lingers around me.

not even luke, who has always been able to cure me of this disgusting feeling, always able to rid of the negativity.

it's not working anymore.

it feels like my body is slipping away, i can't feel anything anymore. there's nothing more to feel, nothing more to say.

there's an overwhelming feeling of calmness that takes over me, a feeling that is ethereal and i can't escape it.

it's like it's telling me what to do, telling me of all the ways to rid this awful world of my useless presence.

i don't want to, but i also really want to. i want to listen to my mind and heart and just end it, but there's a small, rational part of my brain telling me that isn't the right thing to do.

the boys will be ruined.

but will they? or will they just cry a little bit over losing their drummer, and then let it go? move on? find a replacement, find another bestfriend.

all these horrible thoughts clouding my mind are worse than usual, i can't handle it. it's too fucking much.

i need to do something, and cutting isn't going to solve anything anymore. i'm too fucking tired.

i get up and walk over to the bathroom, staring at my disgusting, worthless self in the mirror.

i'm so ugly. my hair is red, and it looks like complete shit. why did they tell me it looked good? it's shit.

my face in general is ugly, my smile is ugly, and my style is the most unfashionable thing i've ever laid my eyes on.

why do i look like this? why couldn't i have been lucky and looked like one of the other boys, actually be attractive.

i see a tear slip down my cheek, and quickly take my blade out of the drawer.

this is it, i'm done. i'm done pretending to be okay, i'm done with it all. after this, people will know of my hurt and put dirt on my name for being weak, but who cares? i'll already be dead anyway.

just as the blade is about to make contact with my skin, i remember something.

i can't just leave, i have to leave a note, something to tell the boys that this isn't their fault and that i love them.

i don't want to leave them confused or sad, they deserve an explanation as to why i killed my self.

so, i take out a piece of paper from my notebook and grabbed a pen, not sure how to start.

i decided to write two seperate notes, one for all of them and one for luke, just for him.

they deserve this, and i can give it to them.

after a few minutes, i've started one of them, my writing flowing out of me in depressing waves of sadness.

this is the way it's needs to be. i need to be selfish for once.

i need to make myself happy, and the only way to do that is to die.