"Have you seen her lately, Ashlyn?" Asked a hazel-haired female that wore a white tee-shirt and bell-bottom jeans. She was clearly old-school, with her hair in tight ringlets that made her look like she lived in the 1980s.
"Not in a few days, and for the love of God, please call me Ash." The brunette whipped his leg over the other and slouched down a bit in the creaky, wooden chair. He wore a collared white button-up on top of a plain white tee-shirt with khaki pants, his usual October attire.
"Respect, Ash." The 1980s woman snaped gently as she rested her finger-tips on the corner of the desk that sat in between them. Her eyes showed sympathy, but Ash knew it was fake, she was good at her job. She could act as if she cared, but Ashlyn knew she didn't.
"Sorry, Mrs. Bernice, I just get ticked off when people say Ashlyn stead of Ash." He let out a sigh and drew his hand behind his head in embarrassment, fiddling with the ends of his coal-black hair. "I guess I've gotten used to people using it as an insult."
Mrs. Bernice flipped her shoulder-length hair behind her ear in a swift swipe as he pushed her spectacles farther up her nose. "How is she like? Has she done anything to harm you?"
The brunette looked taken aback, he even straightened up a little. "Harm me? No, never." He looked down a little, his eyes glittering with disgust toward his counselor. "And about her?" An accidental laugh escaped his lips. "She's like a friend. A sweet, cunning friend. Now, Can I leave yet?"
"Not yet, honey. We need to talk about that CBS of yours." She clasped her hands together in his lap, gazing expectantly at the brunette.
"What about it, Mrs. Bernice?"
"What have you been seeing lately, sweetheart?"
Ashlyn flipped his hair and stared at Mrs. Bernice blanky for a few heartbeats before he nodded. "Well, last night I saw a random, diamond pattern on my wall across from my bed. I blinked a few times and it went away, though."
"Its good to hear your tactics are working, Ash." Her voice was calm and gentle and Ashlyn almost let it soothe him before he realized where he was, in the small consoling office in a rather tiny shopping-mall. The walls decorated with cliche' posters and inspirational quotes that seemed like they were closing in on him, the posters almost haunting.
"Ashlyn? Ash are you alright?" Mrs. Bernice's words interrupted the brunette's thoughts, he jumped and looked up at the counselor, a half-smile forming on his face.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"Alright, sweetheart, how long has it been since you hung out with your friends out of school?" The counselor asked with a curious tone, man, was she good at faking concern.
Ashlyn rolled his eyes as he relaxed his elbows on the wooden desk. "I don't often. My father is too scared to let me hang out at other people's houses, especially at night since that when my CBS is worst." He sighed. "My father thinks I'm going to scare people away. But it's fine, he's just looking out for me."
"I see, have you tried any clubs? Sometimes being active in the community can help you except yourself, Ash." Mrs. Bernice tried again, the words obviously rehearsed.
"Nah, never really been interested in them." Ash shrugged and he slumped down in his chair, staring up at the digital clock that hung on the wall above the door. It read 4:58. "Two minutes.." He mumbled half to himself instead of his counselor.
She sighed, leaning back in her black cushioned chair. "Try not to be cooped up in the house too much, and please Ash, don't let your only friends be hallucinations." She pulled her wrist about a foot from her face, checking her gold and metal watch. "And I suppose you can go."
Ashlyn did a little fist pump and jumped up from his chair and begun to walk to the door, glad he could finally leave.
"Do you have a ride, Ash?" His counselor asked. "I could drive you home if you want."
"I'd rather walk, but thanks for the offer, Mrs. Bernice."
And off he went, his black Chuck Taylors tapping against the concrete, but the noise was hard to hear against the Blue Hill streets. The 63-degree weather whipping at his face, he stuffed his frigid hands into his pockets and headed down the sidewalks, phone in hand. He scrolled through his multiple playlists on Spotify and eventually picked one of his favorites, one he named 'Charlotte's Playlist'. He poped his half-broken earbuds in, well, at least the one bud that still remained working and the soft sounds of Glass Animals pulsed through his mind. His favorite song, in fact, one called Cocoa Hoves. He hummed quietly to himself, enjoying the chilly breeze that blew across his skin, and a tiny smile crept along his face.
"Hey, is that Ashlyn?" Ash heard his name being called, even through his earbuds. He knew whoever it was said by, they said it purposely loud so he would hear them. He paused his music and took out his one earbud, gazing behind his shoulder curiously. There stood two taller boys, one with flaming ginger hair and pale skin, he would look weak if it wasn't for his broad shoulders. And the other was someone that Ash knew, he was taller than the ginger and had spiky black hair, but a white cap covered most of it.
The one with ginger hair nudged the other saying: "Haha, look its Ashlyn, that freak." The boy with black hair snickered at his friend's comment as he cast a devious grin at Ash.
The ginger pointed at nothing and continued his mocking with a faked shocked expression: "Ah, I see dead people."
Ash quickly flickered his gaze back to his phone and picked up the pace, trying to avoid the cruel boys that had mocked his CBS.
He heard a familiar voice shout from behind him: "Are you scared, Ashlyn The Freak?" Ash knew the voice came from the black-haired boy without even looking back, he had heard that insulting nickname far too many times not to know who it came from.
And with that, the brunette dashed down the corner of the street and rounded the corner, not even taking a second to breathe, he sprinted down the rocky road that he lived, attempting to escape the humiliation that he had felt, and he knew if he stuck around it would be more than just embarrassment that he ran from. Trees whipped by him as his breath grew heavier and heavier, his house coming into sight from behind the orange and yellow trees of October.
Panting, he bent down and rested his hands on his knees, still grasping onto his phone and the half-broken earbuds as he stood on his wooden porch. He whipped his sleeve over his forehead before ringing the doorbell, he could hear it bing throughout the wooden cottage even from outside. He stood panting for a moment longer before the door swung open to reveal a tall, lean man that had a black stubble on his chin and tired eyes that gazed down at Ash rather lovingly.
"Hey, dad." Ash spoke to the man with a small wave as the man took a step to the side to let the brunette inside.
Ashlyn's father smiled gently, waving just the same. "How was your day, Ashy?"
"Eh, counseling was fine, but I meet some kids on the way home..." The brunette trailed off as he thought about the two bullies mocking him as he ran.
His father's eyes filled with sympathy, half angry at the kids and half sorrowful for his son. "Don't listen to them, they don't know what they're talking about, Kiddo."
"It's fine dad, I've got used to it." Ash replied with a shrug and a weak smile as he stepped into the cabin and unbuttoned his collared overshirt to hang on the coat rack beside the door.
His father only replied with a hand on his shoulder and a shake of his head before Ashlyn trekked up the stairs to his bedroom, black Chuck Taylors still present on his feet. The stairs weren't long and he reached his room quite quickly, flipping on the lights, he flopped down on his bed and closed his eyes. Putting his broken earbuds in, he resumed his music. His head resting against his foam pillow he felt relaxed, comforted, and finally, he could lie down. A smile crept back along his face as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the music that played through his earbuds. He began to drift, drift into the world of sleep, the world of dreams.
"Heeeeey Ash!" An excited, girly squeak came from beside Ashlyn, he felt someone sit down on the edge of the bed beside his right leg.
The brunette's eyes fluttered open tiredly, the music still blaring through his earbuds. "Charlotte?"
Authors Note: Alright! Heres another chapter for ya, if you enjoyed it make sure to support me with a vote, comment, and a follow! This is very fun to write for me, unlike ToFA was, and I'm glad I made the decision to start this instead. Also, let me know if you like the decently short chapters (compared to ToFA) or if you would rather me go back to longer ones in the comment section!
- Cinder-Ashes
YOU ARE READING
Crimson Disease
General FictionAshlyn Frost was an ordinary boy, he loved to wander and explore the woods near his home, climbing trees and skipping rocks along the wide ocean that neared the back of the woodland. That was until his vision disintegrated and he was diagnosed with...
