The world through Ash's eyes looked faded, an ugly, vomit like color. Everything looked so putrid and painstakingly horrible, different since he died. It all just seemed so overwhelming; he couldn't quite wrap his mind around it.
It all started on November 24th, the day of his birth...the day of his death. He should have seen it coming. He should have been paying attention to the road, instead of attempting to open the lid of his Starbucks coffee. But no, his stupid, small hands decided to slip and falter, and then his car seemed to - almost magically - want to veer into oncoming traffic. To top off the whole disastrous situation, a damned mini van carrying a mother and her kids, decided to collide into his car.
Ash closed his eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling the cold December air, leaning over the thin balcony railing 32 floors from the ground.
If only the mini van carrying that pregnant mother and kid hadn't collided with his car, if only he'd died and not them. There were too many "if onlys'', too much regret. The bitter throbbing pain seemed to dig deep into his heart and eat at him every time he took a breath.
He remembered the impact of the crash. It felt like a fright train had collided with his car at over 200 miles an hour. He heard a scream that quickly dwindled away, followed by a crunch of metal, the skeleton of the car being crushed. He felt his body give way to the violent impact that sent him flying out his front windshield, and over the top of the mini van. He remembered the feeling of hitting the pavement with a sickening thud; he could hear his heartbeat in his ears. Then came the sirens, and the crunch of glass being stepped on by paramedics.
He felt something wet on his forehead, blood, it dripped down his fingers... it covered him. The iron like scent burned his nose; the taste of it filled his throat. Then came the worst pain imaginable, he felt it all over his body, a warm throbbing stabbing pain. He remembered trying to get up, but he could only shift one of his arms; he could hear the glass impaled in his arm scrap across the pavement. It was all over him, shards of glass and scraps of metal stabbed him and buried deep into his body, painful to the point of almost becoming a numbing sensation.
Ash crouched, two feet planted firmly on the icy, metal railing, cold hands holding onto either side of his fade Chuck Taylors. He took a deep breath and leaned over more, feeling the bitter cold wind attack his hair and stab at his face.
He remembered more of that day, of not being able to move, of becoming sleepy and numb all over. The sirens around him seemed to dim down to a far away ring, in his mind he knew he was dying, but he couldn't bring himself to move or to even mumble, "Help me, I'm alive." So he just lay there letting the process of death creep into him and steal his breath away, he could feel the bitter coldness of his blood leaving his veins to coat the pavement. The coldness of death made its way to his heart and it slowed significantly. The usually steady, strong beat became only a murmur. After the process was complete, he couldn't hear or see anything. An empty void filled with regret and pain clouded all that surrounded him. It was better then knowing that he'd killed that family... that he'd become a killer.
Ash placed one long leg over the cold railing, and then the other, he sat on the balcony looking down at the traffic below.
"So tiny," he mumbled.
People must have thought that he was damn grateful for Paul, the paramedic who had saved his life. Truth was he hated the guy. He truly and honestly hated him. "He should have just left me alone on the dirty pavement to bleed out and die," Ash thought, "He should've left me for the coyotes to feast on, before the rats in the gutter got the last remaining bits."
But no, Paul decided to give him CPR. He decided to shock Ash full of electricity until his skin began to burn beneath the slick pads, until the smell of human flesh rose up to the paramedic's nose. Until he could get a steady heartbeat from Ash's nearly lifeless body, it worked. The damned guy saved his life, and now Ash lived with a big "Fuck You World" sign above his head.
Ash's thoughts where a blaze filled with fury and hate, he'd rather die this way though, by committing suicide. It was better to think this way, to think that he was nothing, nothing at all and that no one cared about him one bit. He'd rather be remembered as a killer, because it was true, he was a killer, the murderer of an unborn baby, two small children, and a mother. Because of him no one would ever see those kids again, their grandparents would never be able to pinch their cheeks or give them hugs ever again.
Ash felt a smirk growing on his face, this was it, this time he would succeed and nothing would stop him. This was his time, and he was ready to take the leap, to feel the icy, December air rush past his face. It was his time, to feel the growing anticipation as he neared the traffic and pavement below, and then the moment where his frail body would make impact with solid concrete.
"Ash baby, get the hell off my balcony and come inside. You left the damn window open, thanks for letting out all of the hot air you skeeze."
Ash shook his head, this was his time and he wasn't going to listen to her, not this time.
"Ash, get the fuck off the balcony now or I'll kick your sorry ass." Shilo's voice was stern and strong, so strong that Ash felt the mental tug of her voice pulling his body back towards safety.
"That's it, now come on and hurry, if you're fast enough I'll make you some tea...ok?" Shilo's voice went soft, concern and love filled her face.
Ash hung his head low and didn't respond as he lifted his leg over the railing, to safety. He was a coward, who was he kidding, he couldn't kill himself. He was pathetic, a no one, a loser who couldn't jump, because his best friend called him a skeeze. Ash let out a breath of warm air that turned quickly into fog. He reluctantly walked past Shilo, who only smiled sadly, knowingly. He climbed into the apartment, numb from head to toe, covered in goosebumps, the hairs on his arms stood on edge. He stripped himself of his dark hoodie and beanie before sitting on the high black stool in Shilo's kitchen. He dropped his head hard onto the black top of the table hoping that by doing so he would fracture his skull and die. But, no dice, it only hurt like hell. Scowling he rubbed his head and watched as Shilo let down the window and closed the dark purple curtains. They'd been best friends since kindergarten, when she punched Timothy Button in the face for calling him a faggot. It hadn't been his fault, it was Timothy's. Ash had kissed him after he was caught during a game of tag. He'd just reacted the wrong way.
Ash grimaced at the memory, and then went back to pouting as Shilo started to boil water, when she'd finished she sat across from him with her hands tucked under her chin. Shilo was beautiful but she never acknowledged the fact that she was. She had been nice enough to let him move in with her a year ago when his mother disowned him after the accident. With eyes the color of brown sugar, Shilo stared at him, love and understanding etched into her features. That's what he loved most about her, just that one look made him feel a little bit better inside. Ash smiled meekly at her while lifting his hand to tuck a strand of her black hair behind her ear.
" Shi I'm going to go for a walk, I promise I won't kill myself," he said humorously.
He stood up, and without waiting for an answer he grabbed his hoodie and beanie and walked towards the door. He needed air and space, it was better this way. He headed to the door of the spacious apartment and waved goodbye to Shilo, who only nodded in understanding.
The lights of the cafe on the corner shed a dim glow over the snow covered ground. The smell of dark roast coffee and various cappuccinos lingered in the air and filled Ash's nose. His stomach rumbled, he felt cold all over, he was miserable. It felt like the world was dumping shit on him every minute and every hour of the damned day. With feet scuffling across the snow, and cold, numb hands tucked safely into his jacket, he made his way to the front door of the cafe and walked in. It was a slow night. There was a couple seated on the couch by the fire place, and a person sitting with their laptop at a nearby table. The place was a mixture of reds, browns, and blacks, the combination gave the cafe a warm, welcoming vibe. Slow, indie music was playing in the background, it soothed him a bit.
Ash walked over to the blonde and pink haired girl hunched over the counter. She looked bored until she noticed Ash, then she immediately sat up and plastered a smile on her pierced, dimpled face. Of course she would fake a smile for him, he wasn't bad looking and he wasn't being conceited, it was a statement of fact. Ash had his mothers light gray, cold eyes and his father's broad shoulders and mop of messy, dark hair. He was broad and tall and he hated the attention his appearance got him. People thought of him as the tough guy, but just because he was tall and looked tough didn't mean anything. He was shy, and a coward everything his appearance deemed him to be was a lie.
"Hello there, what can I get you?" The girl smiled as she let her eyes travel from the top of Ash's head to the tip of his toes. But he acted as if he didn't notice; instead he looked up at the chalk board behind her.
"Uuuhm, I'll have a candy cane cappuccino, dark roast, no sugar, with whip cream on top." Ash attempted a smile, but it probably looked more like a grimace. The girl nodded and told him how much it would cost, he paid and waited for his cup.
The bell above the door chimed a moment later, signaling that another customer had come into the café. Ash didn't bother to look up at the person; instead he grabbed his drink and made his way to the very back of the cafe to sit by a window.
He cupped his cold hands around the bottom of his drink and gently sipped the foam from the top. The warm liquid slid down his throat and warmed his insides. Ash stared out of the window at the falling snow, lost in his own thoughts, so much so that he didn't notice the figure sitting in the seat across from him.
"Hey there, you looked lonely, I,uhm, I hope you don't mind if I keep you company." The guy smiled at him, he looked about 17, with a mess of dark brown hair and dark coal colored eyes. Ash nodded and felt a slight tug in his chest, which he ignored.
"I'm Nathan, I just moved here." Nathan smiled slightly, showing a dimple in his right cheek.
Ash eyed him; his face looked familiar, even though he knew that they'd never met. With a shake of his head Ash, dismissed the thought and nodded as if he'd been listening.
"Uhmm, I'm Ash, I've lived here my entire life." Ash spoke in a fast, deep tone, hinting to the guy that he didn't want him around.
"Mhm," was all Nathan mumbled, as he fiddled with the top of his coffee cup.
Ash felt a sick feeling creep into him, "I guess the depression and darkness isn't over with me yet. What if this guy drops dead right now, what if the counter girl was jealous or something and poisoned Nathan's coffee?!? Then he would be dead, and it would be my fault."
Fear washed over Ash's as the horrible thought played itself over in his mind, he stood up, quickly forgetting about his coffee.
"I'm really sorry but I have to go," he said. He nodded slightly, and was about to turn around when Nathan grabbed his wrist. Warmth and electricity shot up Ash's arm and he stopped, shocked at the feeling.
"Well, okay but before you go, what school do you go to?" Nathan smiled a bit.
"Shire High," Ash said. With that he lightly tugged his arm from Nathan's grip and walked out of the coffee shop. Shaking his head angrily at himself for getting that close to a human being, he walked back to Shi's place.