i left my heart in my mind (ashton irwin a.u.)

paris

 that night, we still hadn't reached the destination, so we were doomed to sleep in the car again. we didn't do much that night, i just sat across from him and watched him text people on his phone. i wanted to know who he was texting. he didn't drink that night because we didn't have enough money and i think that was bothering him. i didn't feel bad for him, though.

"hey," luke spoke up, breaking me from the trance i was in. i broke my gaze from the window and faced luke, "yeah?"

"you're really quiet tonight."

"so are you."

"what are you thinking about?"

i paused for a moment to collect my thoughts. staring out the window, i was brought back to a memory from a long time ago and i was debating whether or not to tell luke.

"just my parents," i told him. i adjusted my position on the seat, covering my lower half with a blanket.

"do you miss them?" he asked.

"no," i shook my head, "i never missed them."

-

back when i was a kid and up until i was around eight, i lived with my birth parents. i knew them well, no matter how hard i tried to forget. they were there for half my life, and i never was able to leave the house until then.

growing up, i always assumed it was okay for them to abuse drugs. i just assumed the hazy feeling in the house and the awful smell were normal. i guess that's how i became the weird kid at school. i always smelled weird and i had trouble normally communicating with others. i constantly got upset and had trouble explaining my emotions. my parents didn't ever really communicate well with me. and growing up, i was just in the house, i didn't really get to meet other kids until i was placed in kindergarten. and when i met those kids i hated them. i didn't get what they were doing and why they just happy and carefree. i was constantly scared and didn't really let anyone near me. that was until i met luke.

he was bad at talking, but he always sat beside me because i didn't talk to people. it worked out perfectly because we were both able to understand one another without speaking. we didn't talk, but sat together so people wouldn't bother us, it worked out perfectly.

but, as that was all happening at school, i struggled more and more with my home life. i saw my parents smoking and doing all that shit and never really understood what it was for a long time. i assumed all adults did it at their homes, so i didn't ask anyone. besides, i didn't talk anyways so it didn't matter. once i was in school, i understood that people did communicate with one another and my parents were the exception. they just left me be, feeding me food when they could. normally, i just ended up eating something from the fridge that wasn't ever really a meal. my mom tried to bring food to the table but her drug addiction prevented her from having much money. i did like the part at school where i got a whole meal.

i was always curious about the drugs when i was young. i would try to touch it and look at them when they weren't around, curious about the different crystals and powders in the small baggies. i didn't understand what they did, but i knew how they worked. they were either snorted, smoked, sometimes injected. i hated when they were injected, my parents got stranger and they didn't talk to me at all for a long time.

however, i never really minded if they didn't talk to me. i didn't mind being in my bedroom because it was better than if they were mad at each other. they never really got mad at me, i just was there in the background, watching

that was until one day when i was around seven. my mom suddenly changed, i still don't know what caused her to suddenly change her mind.

she started to take a great interest in me. it was so strange to have all the attention and for a while i hated it. i had never experienced that type of attention before and it was like a different person was possessing my mom. she was still taking drugs, but something had happened between her and my dad and she suddenly wanted to make sure i stayed with her. my dad never really gave a shit either way. he just let her have her way.

she tried to be loving towards me, but the drugs had her so fucked up that she just became clingy. she would grab onto me when i got home and made me sit down and talk about my day. she stared at me with these wide, red-rimmed eyes. they were dead from all the drugs she took, that's what i told myself. she made me tell every detail and it became frustrating to me. i wanted to be alone because she scared me, but she just latched onto me. i began to dread coming home.

but, after i told her my day, she would leave and go do something with my father and i would go work on my homework. then, dinner came and she made me eat whatever food we have with her. she would continue this rambly conversation about nothing in particular. it was confusing to me and i felt uncomfortable every time we sat together, because i had never really had attention like this before. this was strange, somewhat negative attention, but even when i got put in foster care, i still was uneasy about the caring nature they gave off.

it went on like this for two more years. i guess i kind of got more used to it, but do to my separation from my parents at a young age, i always felt uncomfortable by it. i didn't like the way that she stared at me with those wide, red-rimmed eyes as i tried to tell her every detail of my day. most of it being fake. i would always tell her i had tons of friends at school and we all played basketball at recess. usually, recess consisted of luke and i sitting at the bench. sometimes we would talk, if luke felt comfortable doing so, but most of the time we watched the other kids. she felt happy that i had friends, so i decided to let her be happy about that, since i knew she wasn't happy about anything else.

that was up until she was taken away by the police. they had found out the two of them were buying and selling illegal drugs and were taken to prison while i was put in foster care.

they were taken away when i was at school, so i didn't see them leave. the last time i saw my mom, she was in the kitchen talking with my dad. she had talked to me about school that day and that was it. it wasn't that bad.

the principal had taken me out of class and i was told personally that my parents were in jail. they were trying to be so nice about it, but i was kind of in shock, so i just nodded without saying a word. i don't think i'll ever really know if i was sad about it. the feeling i felt was so foreign to me. it settled in my stomach and made me uncomfortable as i thought more about it.

i was taken to child services and by the next day i was in my first foster home. that's when my mental state truly exposed itself, when i was with a different person who was supposed to be my foster mom. i had nowhere i could be alone and i was scared to be at a new house when the only places i had ever known were my own home and school.

i didn't miss my parents. i did sometimes think about the afterschool talks with my mom.