Scarred Arms And A Broken Heart // Lashton

Green day > Blink

American idiot // Green Day

-

"I can't do this anymore"
"What's your name love?"
"Ashton" the strong Australian accent muttered down the line.
"And why have you rung us?"
"I can't do this anymore. I don't want to live anymore. I don't deserve to live" it was barley a whisper but it was enough for the boy on the other line to hear.
"Are you having thoughts of harming yourself in anyway Ash? Can I call you Ash?"
"No" the lie slipped through his lips without second thought "and ash is okay"
"Are you telling the truth ash?"
"No"
"Why do you think that you don't deserve to live?"
"Because I'm unloveable and a waste of space. Nobody wants to love a scarred up emo boy who can't even eat a meal without forcing it back up. I'm not worth anybody's time."
"I want you to get yourself to the hospital okay? It's all going to be okay. You're going to be okay love."
"Okay" Ashton muttered, curling up into a tight ball on the floor in the middle of his kitchen. His parents had left him home alone again, too busy working or caught up in their own affairs to give a second thought for their own son.
"If you ever need someone to talk to just call this number again and dial three, you'll be put straight through to me. I'm Luke just for the record."
"Thank you"

Ashton ended the call and threw his phone across the room, his screen smashing upon impact with the white kitchen floor tiles. He didn't care that it was broken, it could act as a metaphor for his life. He let out a small chuckle at his own humours thoughts. What had his life become? It was gone midnight and he was sat on the cold kitchen floor laughing at his own lame jokes and shitty life.

He couldn't go to the hospital, he just couldn't. They'd lock him up in a mental institution if they knew what he was thinking and what he did to himself. He'd be restrained in a white padded cell before he could even try to deny the allegations of insanity.

He wasn't insane. He wasn't. He was just sad. Depressed to be more specific. He had been for years and no one had seemed to notice or care. He didn't make it noticeable but he didn't necessarily hide it either. He didn't always made the effort to cover his scars or hide the deep blue circles under his eyes. He didn't even pretend to eat his lunch at school. There was just no point, nobody took any notice of him anyway never mind what he ate or didn't eat at lunch or whether he gained some weight or scarred his arms. He could not pinpoint one person who has ever shown any signs of care towards him. Not one. It was quite sad really.

And what would his parents think? They'd probably be angry at him for all the wasted good that he purged. They wouldn't even believe him, they'd think he was acting like this to get some sort of attention from them. They're already stressed out over his grades dropping, they didn't need this bomb shell dropping on them. They have enough on their plates with their own lives. He couldn't be selfish and tell them, he really couldn't.

He pulled his sweatshirt over his head and threw that across the room also, it landed about a foot from his smashed up mobile phone. He lent his head back against the cupboard and sighed. As much as he wanted to end everything he couldn't find the strength in himself to pick himself up off the floor. He couldn't find the strength to do anything but sleep.

His eyes started to droop and eventually he was plunged into the darkness which finally allowed him a few hours of freedom from his own mind.

~

He woke up to the sunlight streaming through the kitchen windows. His neck and back were painfully stiff due to falling asleep sat upright against the hard wood and his stomach ached for food. He couldn't eat, he just couldn't. It was too early he told himself, he'd eat later when he's woke up properly.

He didn't know why he was trying to kid himself, him and his stomach both knew that there was a very small chance of him consuming anything for a while.

"Shit, shit, shit" he muttered as he glanced up at the wall clock and realised that it was almost 9. It was his first day back at school, he couldn't be late. He couldn't walk into a classroom late, he'd be the laughing stock. He'd be an embarrassment and he definitely wouldn't make an friends this year if he messed up on the first day.

His phone hadn't gone off since I'd was pretty much totalled in the corner of the room. He'd forgotten about that.

He jumped up from the tiles, back cracking in the process, and ran upstairs and into the shower. The hot water burned his aching muscles but he didn't have the time to change the temperature. After washing his hair and body in record time he pulled on an old Blink 182 long sleeved t-shirt and a pair of ripped black skinny jeans along with his tatted black and white vans and ran out the front door with his backpack slung over on shoulder without even brushing his hair.

On the other side of town Luke stepped out of his dad's car, waving goodbye as he walked towards his new school. He was optimistic even though he didn't have any friends here. He'd become more outgoing over the past few years and the thought of making new friends didn't bother him anymore.

He had a green day shirt covering his chest and tight blue skinny jeans on his legs, he looked good and he knew it.

He walked into his first class ten minutes early after collecting his time table, he didn't particularly want to go and sit on his own in the canteen.

The time until his class started went by agonisingly slow but eventually people stared to walk in and choose their seats. A few minutes later the bell rang and the teacher walked through the door.
"Don't get comfortable I'm putting you in assigned seats"
There was a group of collective moans as people started to stand back up and make their way to the back of the room

After ten minutes people were assigned to desks of two and everybody had their partners. Apart from Luke, instead of a human being there was an empty plastic chair.

"Ashton? Ashton Irwin?" The teacher called and received no response.

At least he knew that he'd been given a partner, luke didn't think that he could cope siting through English literature everyday without somebody to talk to. He didn't even know why he chose to take this class.

About twenty minutes in to the introduction of poetry the door opened and in walked a tall, fluffy haired brunette.

"I'm sorry i'm late" he muttered and luke instantly recognised the voice but couldn't pinpoint where from.

"Ashton take your seat over there" the teacher pointed to the empty seat next to Luke "and I'll see you after school so you can catch up on what you missed"
Ashton didn't respond and silently sat down next to Luke without even saying hi.

The first thing he noticed was that was the boy, Ashton's, shirt. Blink 182 were like his childhood heroes. And the second thing he noticed were his legs, oh my god his legs. They were extremely skinny but gorgeous non the less.

Luke isn't one to shy away from his sexuality or deny it. He didn't hide it in anyway and if someone had someone against it then that was their problem, not his.

"I like your shirt" Luke whispered. "Thank you" Ashton muttered, a small smile replacing the frown on his lips "yours isn't too bad either" he smirked, causing luke to look down at his shirt in pride.

"Green day over blink any day though, sorry love" Luke chuckled quietly

"Not a chance" Ashton acted offended. "Blink for the win"

"Ashton irwin and Luke Hemings I'll see you both at lunch. No talking when I'm talking." Causing the two boys to groan.

"I guess we'll carry this on at lunch" Luke winked and Ashton could swear he felt butterfly's but he just put it down to hunger. He didn't get attached to people so easily. He couldn't. People just let you down. You have to depend on yourself. Anyway, who could love him back if he didn't love himself on the first place?