Ashley

Ashley's POV

Mom wouldn't look at me the next day. Max wouldn't talk to me. Mom hadn't even told Dad yet, and lord knows what he'd do when he found out. He was supposed to be coming home tomorrow, though he said something about coming home a day early. Max silently drove me to school. I needed to ask Ronnie some advice badly, so I ran to my locker. He wasn't there. I turned in a circle. No Ronnie. I sighed and walked off to English.

The day passed silently. Since I had no other friends, no one talked to me besides teachers or people asking to copy my test once in a while. When I got home, there was a note on the table. Max: Went to Arizona! Peter Radke fixed my tire right away. Be back in a week! Love you, Mom. Ashley: You can read. Mom.

You can read? You can read? She was that mad at me? I exhaled in frustration and stormed up to my room. I tried to slam my door, but there was nothing there. "What!?" I felt the door frame. There was a sticky note. In case you have boys over was scrawled in Mom's handwriting. I grunted and flung myself on my bed. I didn't even have my own privacy any more?

Max walked by in the hallway.

"Max!" I shouted.

He ignored me and kept on walking.

"I know you can hear me!"

I heard him descend the stairs.

"Max? Come on."

I heard the front door close.

"Max?"

I heard his car start.

I sighed and fell back. No one would listen to me when I needed someone to talk to the most. I got up and went downstairs. I picked up the phone and dialed Ronnie's number. It rung a few times, and Michael picked up. "Hello?"

"Hi. It's Ashley, is Ronnie there?"

"No he's not, double S."

Double S. People had been calling me that all day. It meant School Slut. They'd all found out I was pregnant. How, I have no clue.

"Where is he? When will he be back?"

"Oh, you didn't hear?"

I stared at the phone. "Hear what?"

"Ronnie's in the hospital," Michael stated.

My eyes grew wide. "What? Why?"

Michael chuckled. "He tried to kill himself."

"Kill himself? Good heavens, why?"

"You, double S. He doesn't want to be a father. So he jumped off our roof. Broke his arm. I don't think he's gonna try again soon. You might want to, though."

I stared at the phone again. Had Michael Radke just told me to kill myself. "You know, maybe I will," I said shakily. The tears started to flood as he laughed. I hung up. All I was doing was making people's lives miserable. What good was I doing?

I walked to the door to the basement stairs. I opened it and climbed down them. Dad was an only child. When Grandpa died, Dad got all of his stuff. Grandpa used to be a police officer. I rummaged through the boxes until I found his handgun. When Max and I were little, Grandpa had taught us how to load and shoot a handgun. I found two bullets and loaded one.

I heard the front door open. "Ashley? Max? Kathy? I'm home!" Dad called.

Tears started flooding out of my eyes.

I heard footsteps in the kitchen.

I raised the gun to my head.

I heard the already open basement door creak open further.

"Ashley? Happy birthday, sweetie. Ashley?"

I said as loudly as I could, "I love you, Dad."

"Ashley!" Dad shouted and ran down the stairs.

I squeezed the trigger.