They Don't Need to Understand {Andy Biersack Fan-Fic}

Chapter 4

SOTC- Miserable at Best ~ Mayday Parade

{This chapter could be triggering for some people}

I was standing in a bright room, it was endless with no walls and no way out. There was a red haze and then suddenly I was pulled down and the room had gone black. Pitch Black. "Hello?" I called out my voice was warily high and shaky. In response there was a five second countdown playing and then Luke beating me up, but instead, Luke wasn't the one beating me up. It was Andy.

"Kill yourself, bitch." He yelled in my face while making other jokes about suicide. I was crying and you could see my whole body shaking in fear. I watched as his fist connected to my already bloody nose and the Moon in the video, went limp.

Andy sent a spine chilling smile at the unknown recorder as he walked through the video and approached me, the one who was watching the video.

He gripped on my neck deathly tight and lifted me up by my neck; my toes barely touching the floor. "You're worthless," He yelled, dropping my body. I heard a bone crack as the dream slowly faded away.

---

I woke up in a cold sweat still in Andy's room. The dream still haunted me as I looked over his sleep filled face. He looked so peaceful but in my dream he scared me so much, it made me fear him slightly. Everything in that dream was so real. I couldn't handle being here right now I walked over to his desk and pulled out a pen and scribbled a note on a piece of paper.

Thank you for taking care of me yesterday and letting me stay the night. I'll be at my house if you want to hang out later the door is always open.

-Moon

I left the notes propped up on his desk hoping he would notice it sitting there and I silently crept out of the house. My body hurt like hell, all over. I was so painfully sore I was almost numb, if that makes sense.

The events of yesterday made bad memories click and just like that I shut down. I couldn't feel anything good and my brain was filled with horrible negative thoughts about myself. My wrists were itching and my heart was aching but I couldn't relapse, I had to stay strong. But, you know what they say, easier said than done. I approached my house and went straight to my room. It took a while of rummaging through the hollow books before I came to the right one. I had five hollow books actually all spread through different places in my desk and you couldn't tell the difference from a hollow book to an actual book. One book was filled with pills, one was filled with rewritten suicide notes that hadn't yet been used, one held hate notes that were thrown at me, one contained loose pieces of paper that tracked my weight from the beginning of the year, and the last one was filled with various razors. The one I was looking for.

I carefully held the book in my hand and brought it into my en suite bathroom and ran the bath. I pulled out the first aid kit from under the sink as well and brought it to the side of the tub. Silently stripped to just my under wear, boy boxers, and bra. I sat at the edge of the tub and pulled out the thick pencil sharpener blade as my gaze was constantly either on the blades or my skin. I held in my breath as I made the first slice. I felt released of everything. I made countless slices on my thighs and by now I was doing it without thinking. I looked down and the water had turned a pink color so I decided to clean up my new cuts. I grabbed an alcohol wipe from the first aid kit and some medical gauze, along with a thick towel that had multiple blood stains from similar before events.

I cringed as I brought the alcohol wipe to my skin and it stung but it was worth it. I deserved it. No one wanted me, no one loved me, I was alone. I started carefully wrapping my bloody thighs in the medical tape when the bathroom door cracked open.

"M-moon?" I looked up to see Andy staring at me from the doorway to my bathroom. "What the actual fuck do you think you're doing?" Andy practically growled making me back away. "I-I" I couldn't help but stutter, he wasn't supposed to see this, he wasn't supposed to care.

"Moon, come here" he said, his features softened as a stray tear dances down my beaten cheek. He placed me on my bed and grabbed the first aid kit. He finished bandaging the rest of my cuts slipped my shirt back on.

I could tell he was hurt. He wasn't the best at hiding his emotions. You could tell by the way he didn't have that glint in his eyes. Instead his eyes were dull and the bright icy blue had turned to a dark stormy blue. He pulled my small fragile body into his and started humming softly. I could feel the vibrations from the humming as he placed his chin on the top of his head.

"I'm sorry," he finally said. His hand dropped on to my thigh hitting it lightly, but it hurt like shit, and it made my cuts sting. I winced and scooted quickly away.

"Moon, I-" Andy started. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears as he tried to explain himself. "Please-please don't hurt me" I sobbed. I had let the paranoia get the best of me. I slowly backed away and slid my beaten back and brought my legs up to my chest. It hurt so much. Everything just hurt, everything I do, everything I say it just hurt. I was in so much pain. And it didn't help that I was pushing away my only friend.

"Moon, I'm not going to hurt you." He said softly. I sputtered through broken tears as I stared across the room. "No-no, but he is."