Chapter 17: Death

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AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Hello everyone! Happy Friday!! :) I just wanted to say that I know I haven't been incorporating much of their social media lives into the story or the Trap House's friends, but I promise I will be doing that shortly! I love you all and enjoy!! <3 (THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 200 READS!)

WARNING:
What you are about to read may contain strong language and mature themes.

A Few Hours After Ainsley's Appointment

Everyone was home from their busy days. Colby and I sat together on the couch along Sam and Devyn. Corry sat on the ground, his eyes glued to Rocket League that played on the screen of the television. Jake and Aaron both sat on the love sacs. I was on my phone, while everyone watched the TV screen, laughing at Corey's occasional failures.

Right before I was going to like a picture posted by Devyn on Instagram, my phone rang. I released myself from Colby's cuddles and stood up to answer it.

"Hello?" I asked after walking out of the room.

"Hello? Hello? Is this Ainsley?" a panicked woman questioned on the other line.

"Yes.. May I ask who this is?" I asked again. Who was this strange woman? What did she want?

"Your mother," she said, no emotion except her anxiousness detected.

My mindset suddenly changed. Hearing those words... She was not my mother. This woman had no right to use those words. I balled up my free fist and tensed my body. "What the hell do you want?" I snapped, anger slowly rising inside of me.

"I-It's your f-father," she cried.

"Let me ask you something. Why. On. This. God. Forsaken. Fucking. Earth. Would. I. Care?" I scoffed.

"He ov-overdosed. H-He's d-dead," my lame excuse for a mother stammered.

I didn't speak. I took the phone away from my ear and pressed End Call. I carelessly ran up the wooden stairs to Colby's room- the only place I knew I was safe.

COLBY'S POV

Without speaking, Ainsley got out of my grip and walked out of the room. I wanted to say something to her, but I changed my mind and figured she'd tell me when she was ready. After another one of Corey's fails, I heard footsteps walk up the stairs. Knowing that it was Ainsley, I rushed out of the room and up to mine.

Before I entered, I heard Ainsley. Her breathing was heavy- very heavy. With my body engulfed in worry, I opened the wooden bedroom door.

My eyes widen at the sight of Ainsley. Her head was in her hands.

Heavier and quicker.

Her breathing sped up without notice.

"Hey. Hey. Hey. Ains, what's wrong?" I stammered with a worried tone.

"I-I c-c-can't b-breathe." she stuttered.

"Sam! Help!" I shouted without hesitation. Quickly, I rushed over to her and lent my support. I held her in my arms, her of breath quickening. In seconds, Sam arrived at my bedroom door.

"W-What happened?" Sam asked as he too rushed by Ainsley's side.

"I-I think she's having an anxiety attack," I mumbled as my eyes fell upon Ainsley's face. Her face was covered in worry. I didn't know what to do. I've never been around when something like this happened. I only knew that I've calmed her down from cries before. But not from something like this. "I'm here, Ains. Calm down. Breathe with me,"
I consoled. "In and out. In and out. In and out." I took heavy, slow breaths as a demonstration. Ainsley slowly followed my lead. And, after some time, her breathing returned to a normal pace. As her anxiety faded, her sadness returned. Ainsley began to silently sob in my arms with her hands still on her head.

"She's okay for right now. Sorry I worried you, Sam," I reassured as I held Ainsley in my arms as she cried. Sam got my point, left the room and closed the door behind him.

"Ains, what happened? Who called you?" I questioned, trying to get answers out of her. But I knew I shouldn't have because I the state she was in right now... I knew how fragile she was.

"M-My dad," she stuttered.

"What about him?" I muttered into her tangled hair.

"He-He's dead," Ainsley cried. I felt her cold tears slowly fall onto my arms. They traced the patterns of my skin. More and more tears flooded from her eyes, but I only had one question: Why?

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TO BE CONTINUED

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