A moment to notice

Part 4

[] uh....warning? Yeah, triggers in this chapter unu you have been warned

Ashton's P.O.V

To say that I was completely done with everything was an understatement. I really can't do this....No one knows. No one knows what exactly I do after hours. How I lock myself in the washroom and cry. I always feel like I don't fit in at all. Like I'm a complete stranger in this house. Yeah, they're all kind of nice to me. But I still feel out of place. I feel out of place everywhere I go. Memories of my past just flood back to me. Every time I got bullied, harassed, picked on. When I feel insecure, these are the memories that flow back into my mind after strenuous attempts to making them stop and just disappear forever and ever.

I've now deemed it impossible. Because my past will never go away. I've left little mental reminders of how stupid I am. How much of a fucking idiot I am. I could go on and on and on and on and on. But I just have to look at my wrists to remind me of those flaws. Each scar that runs across my wrist represents something different. They each show something. Maybe times where I cut myself multiple times to numb the pain of the first and second and third and fourth, however many there are. When the blade meets my skin, oh that eternal feeling I feel. I could never find that feeling of sheer bliss when the blade glides against my already ugly skin, leaving just another imperfection.

I can feel the tears pooling around my nose and I open my eyes which seem to have been closed the whole time I had been doing this. I miss my family, mostly my brother. He was all I ever really had. My mum just...didn't want to understand that I am still her son, no matter what I do. So I accepted that, I moved out. I got away from home. But I thought I would feel better being around strangers who knew nothing about me. That I would never have to tell them, because then I'd just have to leave again. Because even though I know some people are accepting, not many others are as accepting.

I started to cry, a silent sob escaping my lip as I continued to do what I was doing. I bit my lip and let out a sigh, shutting my eyes. But before the blade could meet my skin again, I felt it being yanked out of my hand roughly. "Ashton?!"

I slowly opened my eyes, wiping the tears away as I looked  up at the person.

"M-micheal.." I mumbled, looking away from his face because it was looking at an open book. He wore a face of disgust, staring at my forearms like he was searching for the answer to the hardest math problem in the world.

"Ashton, stand up right now." He whisper-yelled to me, lightly helping me up. He guided me to the sink, turning the tap on to warm water and getting a towel from the cupboard. Wetting it slightly, he took my left arm softly and started to dab at it, soaking up the blood and cleaning the wound. I bit my lip, avoiding eye contact with him.

"Does it hurt?"

"N-no, it doesn't hurt.."

"Okay, its about to hurt though, I have to properlly clean it.."

I looked at him, wondering what he meant before I felt the stinging of the alcohol rub meeting my wound.

"Ow! Mike, that hurts.." I whimpered to him, biting my lip harder. He laughed softly and nodded, dabbing at it a bit more till he deemed it clean. He reached into the cupboard above the sink again, pulling out some gauze and a bandage wrap. Michael just wrapped the gauze around my arm tightly, then wrapped the bandag around it, fastening it with a safety pin.

"Is it too tight or too loose? Does it feel weird?" I shook my head, looking to him with tears in my eyes. "I-I...how do you know how to do that?" I sputtered.

"I kinda just...picked it up after some experiences of mine. Nothing much, really. Now, may I ask you a question, Ashton?" I nodded hesitantly and looked up to him.