#Mashley OneShots

Gone

Ashley's POV: 

It was a month since the accident, and I still couldn't believe it had really happened. One moment, we were finally completely happy. He had proposed to me around this time last year. We were starting to build a life together, beginning by making the eternal bond between us, but all of that was taken away by a single drunk driver. Of course it could've been me in that accident, but he just had to push me out of the way, to take his own life in sacrifice for mine, which is something I'll never forgive myself for. 

~We were taking a midnight walk one cool July evening, when it started raining. He put his sweatshirt around me, protecting my skin from the icy drops. We put our arms around each other, but it was making our footsteps lopsided, so we settled for holding hands. We smiled at each other, talking and laughing, rushing through the rain. 

Then we decided to cross the street at a corner, not thinking much of it. We hadn't seen any cars all night, so why would there be any here? I went first, skipping a little too fast near the corner, and I didn't see the headlights until I was frozen in the middle of the street, not remembering how to move. The car didn't slow, and I still couldn't move. So Mitch moved for me. He pushed me out of the way, making me fly across the pavement, and I was able to move my eyes just in time to see the car make contact with his body, sending it flying.

"MITCH!" I screamed, finally gaining feeling in my legs and scrambling towards him. The car drove off, but at the time, I couldn't care less. I had to get to Mitch. I slowed as I neared his body, silent tears streaming down my cheeks that I barely noticed. His body was bent at odd angles, and blood was streaming through his clothes, and covering his arms, only to be washed away by the rain. I knelt down beside him, hovering my hands above him, as if he might not actually be there, and this might all be a dream. I slowly touched him, and as soon as my skin made contact, I broke down. I cradled his head in my arms, sobbing into his perfectly uneven brown hair. I didn't even feel the hot, sticky blood on my skin, or the rough cement rubbing against my knees. 

"M-mitchell D-donald R-ralph Hughes.You c-can't leave me." I choked, my voice cracking on every word. I controlled myself long enough to look at his face, and lean down to kiss his lips, my own quivering. Then I pulled back, and started sobbing again. I screamed again, in outrage of the driver, in sadness, in disbelief, in everything. I was unaware of my surroundings, all the commotion that was going on, and when a police officer peeled me off his dead corpse, I fought back, not wanting to let go. They weren't going to take me away from him. He wasn't dead. He wasn't. He couldn't. He couldn't just leave me like that.~

After that, I didn't know what to do with myself. I was in complete disbelief first, locking myself in my room, eating nothing for a week, just staring at the wall, letting silent tears run down my cheeks. Then I was angry, and when I was unable to find the driver who had killed him, I went on several rampages, smashing several plates, punching holes in the wall, and having many trips to the hospital. Following that, I continually tried to kill myself, until one day I realized how selfish I was. if I was to kill myself, he would've died for nothing. It would've all been in vain. Why must it have been him, and not me?

Now that I've made that realization, I've been trying to move on, but "difficult" hardly describes how it feels. It's hopeless. 

I get up from my bed, a task that is sometimes nearly impossible these days, and walk over to my drawer. I open it up, and the shirt on the top is my Power Moves Only shirt. It feels as if my heart is being stabbed with the very diamond on the shirt, and I turn away, tears leaking out of my eyes. Part of the reason it's been so hard to heal is because everywhere I turn, our memories are there, reminding me of what could've been. I couldn't even do Minecraft videos anymore, because whenever I did, I would break down into tears because it would remind me of him.

I take a deep breath and grab a different shirt from my drawer, which just so happens to be black. I take my time putting it on, along with a pair of leggings, and look in the mirror. My eyes are tear-stained, as usual, and my hair is flat. I haven't had the heart to poof it anymore, because there was no one to poof it for. After I brush my teeth and hair, I complete my routine by placing my engagement ring on my finger. As I do, it dawns on me that today would've been our wedding day, and my finger seems to weigh a thousand times heavier. And for the millionth time, I wish that he was still here

But now he's just gone, yet I'm still here. And nothing in this world can change that.