I'm Just The Drummer | Lashton

Chapter 17: The Voices

WARNING: This chapter is just going to be what is going through Ashton's mind and what is happening to him. This will be a very triggering chapter for those of you beautiful people have gone through/are going through depression and such. So, I understand if you skip this chapter if you are easily triggered to do anything harmful to yourselves. Nothing major will be happening in it, so you won't miss anything if you do skip it. I promise. :)

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"You're disgusting, Ashton. You don't deserve happiness. You don't deserve anything. You're just a waste of air."

"People like you don't deserve love. You're so fucked up that nobody would want to waste their time with you."

"Do you think Luke actually loves you? Do you believe that he's actually gay? He's only dating you out of pity."

"He doesn't love you. Why would he? You're a worthless piece of shit that nobody cares about. Nobody loves you."

The voices wouldn't quit. I was in a black space, so I couldn't see who they belonged to and I don't think I've ever heard them before. I couldn't help but cry at what they were saying. I knew that everything they said was true, no matter how much I wanted to deny it. 

Suddenly, a mirror appeared before me and my ungodly reflection stared back at me. I squeezed my eyes shut until the point of pain, but the tears escaped through the tight slits anyway. 

"Open you're fucking eyes and look at yourself; you're hideous." 

Against my will, my eyes slowly pried open and I looked at myself through cloudy vision. The voice was absolutely right. 

"There's nothing attractive about you. Your hair looks like a stringy and disgusting mess Your eyes are dull holes that are the color of vomit. Overall, you look like one of God's rejects."

No matter how honest the voice was being, the words still stung me. I tried everything to keep my heavy sobs in so they wouldn't make fun of me for it, but that was easier said than done.

"You're fat. You barely fit into those jeans because you're so overweight. Luke won't share a bed with you because he's afraid he'll get crushed. Oh, and the fact that he doesn't fucking love you."

I willed myself to look away from my horrid reflection, but some force kept my gaze locked on it. 

"Look how pathetic you are. You cut? That's pathetic. Do you think slicing up your arms and legs will make you any less ugly? Do you think it will magically make people like you? They would see you as more of a freak than they already do!"

The words were making me infuriated and I tried to scream for them to stop as I crumbled to my knees, but it only came out as weak whimpers. All I wanted was for them to stop ridiculing me, to stop reminding me how shitty and disgustng of a human being I am. 

"And the icing on top of the cake is tat you're gay! And you thought that convincing yourself that you were would magically make you less of a fuck up? What's wrong with you?! Being gay makes you more vile than you already are! It's inhumane and just utterly disgraceful to the human population! You're going to Hell for it, you faggot!" 

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"STOP! STOP! STOP!" I yelled, thrashing around in the bed. 

Immediately, I sat up, seeing that I was once again in the pitch black, though, once my eyes adjusted, I saw the dull light from my charging phone glowing against the white wall. The curtains were closed and there wasn't a hint of daylight coming underneath it. My eyes darted over to Luke's bed, seeing that he wasn't there. My thoughts instantly went to The Voices. 

"He doesn't love you."

In the back of my mind, I had always had that thought of whether he really did love me or not. I never wanted to believe that he didn't actually love me or want to be with me, but I had the constant reminder that all of this was out of pure sympathy. Now that I thought about it even more, it made sense that Luke wasn't gay and that he didn't love me any more than a friend, if he even considered me that. 

The Voices were right about me, about everything they said. I was just a waste of space that nobody could give two shits in Hell about. I didn't deserve anything; I didn't deserve to be in 5 Seconds of Summer. I don't deserve to be in this damn hotel room. I don't deserve to be on this tour. I don't deserve to even be remotely considered a celebrity. I don't deserve any credit for any VMA or ARIA or AMA awards we got. All I did was drum. What kind of celebrity is that?

Finally moving, I opened the nightstand drawer, digging out my box of razors. I took out one of the could blades with my shaky hands and put the little container back The small blade shook in between my trigger fingers as I brought it down to my forearm. 

First cut. You're a sin.

Second cut. Nobody wants you.

Third cut. You'll never be good enough for anything.

Fourth cut. You should never have met the others. All you do is drag them down.

By the time I was finished, I had a total of twenty perfectly straight and bleeding cuts, ten on each arm. I was just laying on the bed, watching the blood run out of my body. Normally, I would've went directly to the bathroom and cleaned up so the bed wouldn't get full of the red liquid, but now, I don't care. 

I don't care about anything. I could bleed out and it wouldn't bother me. Luke was going to be upset with me when he saw this, but why should I give a flying fuck? He was going to sit and lie to me about how much I supposedly meant to him and all of that horse shit anyway. Why should I give half a shit about his feelings when he doesn't give half a shit about mine?

I hate him. I hate everyone and everything. I have no feelings anymore. I'm just a shell. I have no remorse or guilt about hurting myself like this. Why would I? I hate myself.

All I want to do is lay in this bed and, staring at the ceiling as I wait to die. Everyone would be better off without me, despite what they said. They want to keep me here because they want me to be happy. Why force an unhappy person to stay in this Hell when they would be happy to leave it? 

Why force someone with no desire to live to stay here? If they want me to be happy, they would let me leave this world. It would be less of a burden on them if I was gone anyway.

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Going to keep it short. I wanted to go into Ashton's mind when his depression decided to take a turn for the worst. I'm literally bawling right now.

JUST SO YOU KNOW, I HAVE NOTHING AGAINST GAY PEOPLE. I WOULDN'T BE WRITING A LASHTON IF I DID.

**If any of you ever feel this depressed or just depressed in general, I'm here for you all. Just send me a message if you want to talk, okay?**

All the love in the world. -B