CHAPTER SEVENTY FIVE

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"Everything is your fault, Ashton." I said to myself as I walked down the street. It was dark, and cold... which is quite weird, considering I live in the middle if the desert. I had no idea what part of the city I was in right now, but I couldn't care less. I had no idea where Brooke was, either, though it felt like just minutes ago I fell asleep next to her. I don't even remember waking up, or deciding to take a walk to clear my head.

"Every single thing." The words left my mouth in a clouded mutter, and I didn't bother paying attention to all the people on the street that looked at me like I was crazy. Talking to myself, pulling my jacket sleeves over my hands to keep warm. Fuck, why is it so cold all off a sudden? Nothing like Las Vegas.

I decided to stop talking to myself, and go to Michael's house. I had no idea how late it was, but he probably had cigarettes at his place, and I needed that right now. As much as I debated to go back home and wake up Brooke, she's probably just as tired as I am. Tired from all your fucking anxiety. A voice in my head said to me.

"Stop," I groaned, shaking my head. More eyes layed upon me as I shoved my way through the crowded streets of down town- Wait, what? As I finally take my eyes off of my shuffling feet, I look up. This was nowhere near Las Vegas at all. I couldn't see any hotels, or stripper clubs, or neon billboards on every building. I felt my eyebrows come together in confusion, as I whipped my body around, trying to pinpoint where the hell I was. Am I even awake right now?

"Uh, I-" My voice came to a hault, as the streets became more and more crowded. People shot looks over to me, like I was a lost little boy. I stumbled back, off the sidewalk, and looked around the streets at all the zooming cars. I pursed my lips, taking another look up above me. This place looked strangley familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I decided then to just ask someone; no matter how lame it would sound. I found an open spot on the sidewalk and I jumped onto it. My eyes came upon a woman walking along, pulling her coat over her shoulders.

"Excuse me-?" I said to her, straining my voice. "Uh, where am I, exactly?"

"Go home, you drunk." She spat. Before I could say anything else, she sped off, her feet taking her down the street. I was taken back by her comment, and all I could manage to do was stand there, dumbfounded.

But, besides her harsh words, something else about her sentence stook out. Her accent.

Instantly it clicked, and I knew exactly where I was.

I'm dreaming, I have to be. I thought to myself, now recognizing that I was infact in downtown Sydney, Australia. I haven't even thought of this place in years, why is this happening to me? Why dream about this now, for the first time in so long? My feets' pace slowed down to a subtle walk, and I still had no idea what to do next. I wanted to scream out, maybe cry a little, but I didn't. There were way too many people here to do anything.

I stopped dead in my tracks, even more realization hitting me at once. I took a quick turn down a random alley way to escape the crowd of people, and I slumped my back against the cold brick wall of a random building. Being in the down town of my former city, I was also close to my old neighbourhood. Growing up, the only thing my parents could afford was a shitty one story house just a half mile from where I stood now.

Without thinking, I threw the hood of my jacket over my head, shoved my hands in the front pocket to keep warm, and started off. As much as my mind told me, 'Don't you fucking go to that house, Ashton.' My feet didn't listen. I kept my head down, and my gaze on my moving legs as they seemed to carry me down the crowded streets and towards the junky neighbourhoods just a couple blocks away. The more I seemed to walk, the more confused I became. How do I even remember where this place is? How do I seem to remember what street it was, or what house it was? Well, then again, I'm almost positive I'm dreaming right now.

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