"Welcome to the Panic Room."
Ashton Irwin, an eighteen year old boy, wakes up in a boxed in room with absolutely nothing and no one to be seen other than a girl on the other side of a glass wall.
(Just a heads up that if a large part of the story is written like this it's either a memory or a dream. And for this chapter I recommend listening to Something Good by Alt-J. And that picture is of Chloe who comes into this story.)
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Ashton's P.O.V
I wake up. I sit straight up in bed, feeling slightly confused. Something feels off. Like I'm supposed to be somewhere. Movement from beside me causes me to look over. I smile as I see the beauty that my gorgeous fiancée laying next to me. Her dyed blue hair is messed up completely. Her face finally looks at peace. Her skull tank top is bunched up around her waist. From the hips down she is completely covered by our plain black sheets. I take a look around our room, smiling at its plainness and hominess. Band posters cover the walls. Something that didn't die in the war so long ago, was music. Music from before the war is still played, to everyone's surprise. I don't know why I'm so happy to be here. It just feels like I've been gone for so long.
I easily move out of the bed, trying my best not to wake Chloe. We were up late last night and she needs some rest.
Sure, all we did was lay around and drink with our friends. But, it still wore her out. I felt terrible, since afterwards I went on a rant about how much our country has gone to shit, but she enjoys listening to my rants. That's what she says, at least. Who knows? She could just be lying to me.
Today I decided to go visit my family. My mom, Anne, has to take care of my little siblings, whom I care for very much, and has to worry about getting food on the table every night. I felt awful when I moved out, but she claimed that she would be fine. I still go to visit her and send her money whenever I can. Considering how hard it is to get a job though, money doesn't go her way very often.
I finally got a stable job at the bar down the street from Chloe and I's apartment. Chloe, being the "rebel" she is, got a job at the tattoo parlor. She loves her job, so I don't have a problem with it. I just get worried about her at night. Especially by the bars. Some drunk guy could easily take advantage of her, despite her claims that she can beat his ass if a guy like that ever came near her. She's not as tough as she acts.
I quickly pull on a pair of black, ripped skinny jeans and a ripped up Metallica singlet. I look in the mirror, deciding if I really want to brush my teeth or not. I might as well. I don't have any gum with me today. I do that, then ruffle my hair. It's long and keeps getting in my eyes. I grab the bandana I have laying on the counter, quickly tying it around my head.
Chloe claims that I'm trying too hard to be "punk rock". I say I just look really damn good.
I rush out of the bathroom, looking around for anything I might need. I grab my wallet, my keys, and the bracelet Chloe gave me for my birthday a few weeks ago. I wrap the bracelet around my wrist. I walk over to Chloe and kiss her temple. I don't want to leave her. I feel like something bad is going to happen today. I try to shrug off my ridiculous fear.
