savior

fifty

DAY THIRTY; ONE DAY TO GO

I took Ashton's advice. I went home. But not right away. When Lauren stepped out of the room to follow her brothers down the hallway, I stayed for a while just lazily laying on their couch. I wanted to take in as much as I could, because I had no idea whether or not I'd have a reason to come back. As much as I hated to admit it, I had a feeling whatever Ashton was looking for earlier was something that would probably hurt him.

Before I left, I entered Ashton's room again, just to see. I had to know. Maybe it wasn't a good thing to snoop, but I cared about Ashton too much to not make sure he wasn't hiding harmful objects. And if he was, I wouldn't know what to do.

So I stood in his room, trying to remember which drawer he had his eyes on: the one he had distracted me from when I took a peek at it, too. I really wished his mom was okay; not having to deal with the pain of whatever cancer she had. I wished that she was home with her family. Maybe Ashton would feel happier and less alone.

When I found the drawer, I opened it as fast as I could. All that was in it was clothes. T-shirts with band logos on them filled the entire drawer, almost all the way to the top. I let out a sigh of relief.

But before I could close the drawer, a reflection of light hit me in the eyes, making the streak of light stick with me under my eyelids. I carefully moved the tees away from each other. In the middle of two piles of shirts was a blade, one that looked like it came from a pencil sharpener.

"No," I almost whispered as I gently picked it up. I could practically hear my heart shattering.

I placed the small blade on the top of his dresser and continued to go through the drawer, trying to find something else. Hopefully there wouldn't be.

There was. In the drawer was a lighter, another blade, a pack of cigarettes, and a folded up piece of paper, all hidden underneath his clothes. The blade swiped against the skin of my thumb as I tried to pick it up. I cursed under my breath.

Quickly, I ran to the bathroom to run it under some cool water, hoping that it would make it hurt less while also cleaning the blood. Instead, the open wound stung. "How does this relieve pain?" I asked myself. "Oh my god, this fucking hurts." 

I eventually found a bandaid. I had to look around a little bit to get to it, but when I did, I wrapped it around my finger so tight in order to stop the blood from getting on anything.

Then I returned to my investigation. The drawer was still pulled open like it had been when I left it. When there was nothing else in it but clothing, I closed the drawer and sat back on Ashton's bed. The piece of paper that I'd retrieved was in my hand.

Maybe reading it wouldn't be a good idea. I mean, it was Ashton's property and all, but everything else in the drawer had been a bad thing, and there was no telling what could be scribbled on the slip of paper in my hands. I wanted to believe that maybe it was something good, like a list of all of his goals and wishes and things he'd like to do when he got older. But there was also a feeling in my heart that told me that maybe it was the complete opposite.

When the writing was revealed to me, I could hardly read it because hot tears were clouding my vision. My heart started pounding loud and fast, and my head began to hurt. In my hands was Ashton's suicide note.

october 27, 2014

am i really terrible enough to deserve all of this? to have my mom being taken away from me by some stupid cancer? to have my best friend of so long leave me for someone better? to be tortured enough by other people that i'd want to start torturing myself? to finally get a girlfriend and have her taken thousands of miles away from me?