It all seemed so unreal. Getting that call from the hospital in the middle of the night, and picking up because Ash's mother was no where near. The stranger's voice that asked me if I knew an 'Ash Richards'. My heart had broken into an uneven pace when I was filled in on the details of what had happened: a fight in a bar.
It was unlike Ash to ever go around knocking trouble in bars. But then, putting together the pieces of the puzzle, I'd realized who exactly he'd targeted. After having informed his mother of the news, I'd raced to the hospital with her.
Seeing Ash felt like waking up to a bad dream. Deep bruises sprinkled across his face, the results of punches of an impact that I could not imagine. He looked so weak...so vulnerable. And it hurt me to see him like that.
I spent the whole night by his side, watching him and praying inside that he'd be okay. He would have to be. And the next morning, just as the sun begun to rise, he opened his eyes. Those brilliant blue orbs gazed into my teary ones.
"How could you do this to me?" My voice wobbled on the edge of an outbreak, and I took in a deep breath, bringing myself closer to Ash as I lightly held his hand in mine.
"I don't want to hear it Ash. You have no idea how I feel right now. Don't you ever..."
I broke out into sobs that wracked my body. Hiding my face in my hands, I cried my river out. This was all my fault. All of it.