The days passed slowly. I was still extremely confused. Most of the time I stayed inside. It was all over the music tabloids about how Andy and I were back together. Fuse TV made a special broadcast for their YouTube about it. AP magazine's twitter exploded with comments from fans, some happy about Andy and I's reuniting and other just decided to trash me. There was a lot of favoritism for Juliet. I did my best to ignore it. Siren was still in class for a few days, but I actually was on class break early for spring break since two of my professors were gone at conventions. I just sat at home and practiced music. I worked on my piano skills and brushed up on some original songs on my guitar I hadn't visited in awhile. It was good to assuage my anxiety...while it lasted.

I was strumming on my guitar when I had the little, pinging in my ear. I stopped and turned on my tuner. Individually, I plucked each string, finding the C string was incredibly flat. I turned the metal key on the head of the guitar, the string suddenly flinging upward as it snapped on the turning key. I jumped backward as the loose wire came toward my face. Well...shit. I can't play without it and I have no spares. Looks like I'm going to have to get out of the house. Reluctantly I got up and pulled on some real clothes since I'd spent the past few days in pajamas. I pulled on some faded skinnies and a tan "The Story so Far" t shirt with the skull and roses on it. I pulled on some black converse high tops and placed on my sunglasses as I walked out the front door.
It was unusually warm today for April so I turned on my motorcycle and tucked my purse in the saddlebag. I fired up the engine and kicked off. The sun in my face felt wonderful and the wind tangled my hair as it flowed loose behind me. There was no traffic and the sky was completely clear. I navigated the lazy streets until I got on the highway, following it into the main commercial area of Sarasota. I found my favorite music shop, the best in Florida, Rebel Records Music. They'd provided equipment to KISS, Ace, the Misfits, and even BVB.

I parked the bike and walked into the shop. Instantly, I was met with the smell of polished wood, and the sound of beginners learning guitar. It wasn't very busy today, only a few lessons going on in the back and a customer or two checking around. I approached the counter, finding Corey, a kid with black hair and tunnels. This kid was tagged and rebel as hell, he was a great drummer and a cool guy. "Hey Corey," I said as I fist bumped him.

"Sup, Reya? Haven't seen you in here in awhile."
"Yeah, been busy. I need some new strings for my electric. I broke a C, but I figure it's time to just replace them all. Can you do that for me?" I asked as I leaned on the counter.
"Sure," he turned around and pulled a box out of the show case. "The usual?" I nodded. "Alright, it's gonna be...one sec...$15.67. Do you need anything else?"
"Yeah let me grab some picks from the tray." I turned and went over to the pick wall. It was a bunch of plastic see through drawers that housed thousands of different shape, thickness, size, material, and form of picks. I found the medium Fender picks and grabbed a few with the roses and crosses on them as well as a few Harley Davidson picks, as well as one for Ashley since he's a Harley nut. I also get a "cool" pick, with a special grip on it that feels icy. I return to the counter Corey is at and he rings up the total for me.
"Now you are at...$22.35."
I give him a $20 and $5. "Just keep the change, I know you are saving for a new tat." He thanks me as he hands me my bag of stuff. "See ya." I pull on my sun glasses and step out the shop, only to be swarmed with flashing of lights.

"Reya!! Is it true you are back with Andy Biersack?"
"Is it true you cheated on Clayton Collins?"
"Are you touring again?"
"Did you try to commit suicide?"
"Look here!"
"Is it true you and Juliet got in a heated fight at the Warped Prom?"
"Have you and Andy hooked up?"
"Is Prescription Poison returning?"
"Reya!"
"Reya!"
"Reya, look here!"
"Smile!"

I ducked my head and split through the paparazzi, I jumped on my bike dodging more questions from the vultures. I didn't even put my bag in the holder, I just kicked off and revved the engine, almost getting hit as swerved into the traffic jam on the now crowded street. I raced down the road, taking a few sharp turns and weird alleys incase I got followed. I pulled into the driveway, Siren had left the garage door open. I pulled in and raced to shut the door. I ran into the house, now drenched in sweat and shaking with adrenaline. My back was against the door as my chest heaved. Asthma sucks.

Siren turned around, eyes wide as she took in my distress. "Whoa...Reya, what's wrong?" she said as she rushed over to me. She placed a hand delicately on my shoulder. "Where's your inhaler, Reya?" I dropped my purse on the tiled floor of the entry way. Siren searched through my bag. She pulled out my red inhaler and placed in my hand, bringing it to my mouth. I shook it and took a hit from it. I gasps for a few breaths, until my chest loosened.
"Went...to the music shop...paparazzi...swarmed me."
"Fucking vultures," she grumbled. Guiding me to the couch she sat beside me. "What'd they say?"
"They asked...about Andy."

She rolled her eyes and as I gained back my strength I explained how I escaped them. She listened intently and reassured me that I acted in the right way. She made me a cup of warm peppermint tea, since she knew it calmed me. We decided to spend the rest of the day inside, incase the photographers tried to attack me again. She kept my phone incase I tried to check twitter or AP Magazine. We turned on Netflix and watched "The Nightmare Before Christmas". Siren drifted off, as she always does with movies. I got up and went to my room. Sneakily I retreated to the closet and dug out the beaten up box hidden away. Delicately, I lifted the lid and stared into its cherished contents. I scanned it, retrieving the soft black hoodie from the bottom. It fell out onto my lap. Andy had given me this hoodie the day I left St. Louis for Florida. It had the BVB symbol on it, as well as his name and "rebel". Holding it to my nose, I inhaled deeply, cherishing the smell of Andy that remained in the soft cotton. I opened the hoodie and draped it over my shoulders, zipping it up to my bust. I was filled with the warmth of Andy's company. A smile spread on my lips.

Returning to the living room, I took my place on the couch just as "Kidnap the Sandy Claws" came on. I couldn't help but laugh about some of the lyrics as Lock, Shock, and Barrel sing. Lock begins squealing, "I say we take a cannon, aim it at his door. And then knock three times and when he answers...Sandy Claws will be no more!" I slowly feel myself getting tired. Glancing across the couch, Siren is calmly breathing, eyes closed in a dream. My own eyes close, and I feel the slow sink into slumber.

I can't help but stare as his long slender form approaches me. His raven hair is neatly flipped over onto the not shaved side of his head. His face slowly retreats from the shadows, illuminated by the brilliant lights of the moon overhead. Long black stitches extend from either side of his lips, his skin glowing almost pure white, and his eyes darkly shadowed. His arms had what were once beautiful paintings, but imbedded on his very skin. His once lively eyes fully glowed an ice like blue. Slowly, he climbs the hill, his long slender legs moving him closer to me.

"Hello there," he says, "the angel from my nightmare. You must have been the shadow in the background of the morgue."
"And you?" I speak quietly.
"The unsuspecting victim of darkness in the valley." Reaching carefully, he clasps my hand and brings it to his mouth, gently placing a cold kiss with dead lips. "You know, Sally, we can live like Andy and Reya, if we want, of course. You know where you can always find me." He releases my dead hand.
"We'll have Halloween on Christmas, and in the night, we'll wish this never ends." I leaned into him and placed my lips to his skin, cold and lifeless. "I wish this would never end." He smiled and turned, walking down the hill. Then disappeared into the heavy fog, without even a backward glance.

I faced the moon from my point on top of the hill. I could feel my decaying flesh strain as I sat with my feed over the edge of the cliff. This is when I noticed I had stitches...everywhere. My arms had multiple lines of stitches running the length of my wrists. I had a set of stitches in the exactly shape of a heart peaking out of a hole in my ragged shirt on my chest. I began talking to myself.
"Where are you Jack? I'm so sorry, I cannot dream. I cannot sleep tonight. I need somebody and always. This sick strange darkness comes creeping on. So haunting every time." And as I stared into the bleakness of the night, I counted the webs from all the spiders, catching things and eating there insides. It was like indecision to call Jack, and hear his voice of treason. "Will you come home and stop this pain tonight?"
A soft voice began to sing behind me. "Don't wait your time on me, you're already the voice inside my head, I miss you." I turned to see Jack behind me.

"Do you Jack? Do you miss me?" I asked.
"Sally I love you, darling, if you believe you shouldn't, don't waste your time on me. But always know you have been the voice inside my head. I love you. I missed you. I still miss you, love." Something about him made my lifeless heart begin to pound again. I leaned into him, sudden life flowing into my dead veins. What was this feeling? Our lips connect, and suddenly my heart is feeling like liquid. This warmth continues from my chest and into my stomach. I open my eyes, pulling away. I look down shyly. My shirt is soaked with blood. I pull at the material to find the stitches burst and blood pouring from the open wound over my heart. But it doesn't scare me. I don't react. I look up to Jack. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a spool and needle.
"Allow me," he says. He threads the string into the needle and ties it. He carefully pulls away the fabric from my chest. He holds together the skin and inserts the needle into the flesh surrounding the torn area. Carefully and with the precision of an artist painting a portrait, he sews together the skin and ties off the ends of the stitches. I stare down at the black string holding closed the wound.
"Thank you, Jack." I place a gently kiss on his lips. I see the side of his lip is bursting at the stitch. "Oh, Jack. You're hurt. Let me help." I take the needle from him. I tenderly rest my fingers on his cheek and plunge the needle into the side of his lip. I carefully remove the old stitches which were clearly not cleaned or new. I restitch the upward slit on his mouth up to the middle of his cheek. I finish and he gently smiles as me.

"Sally, the tears we've cried...this love has died, but so have we. You're by yourself with me tonight. Is this what we hide with every lie? Will you stitch these wounds with me tonight?"
"Yes, I will Jack."
"Splendid. I'm so glad you're mine again Sally. I missed you. I really did. I think of it every time I touch you, or anytime I hear his name. But, darling, these walls would never crumble, here's our cause to blame. But understand, that I will await, a patience of eternity, my crush. These bleeding hollow dials, this fuss. A fuss is made of miles and travel, but the roadways that separate us are but stones and gravel." He placed a skeleton like hand over the newly stitched wound upon my breast. "This, a bleeding heart, can conquer every crutch."

Notes

I hope you guys caught the Blink 182 reference. The songs I quoted are-
Miss You- Blink 182
We Stitch These Wounds
The Morticians Daughter.

I hope you liked this chapter and I'd love for you to comment!! By you commenting it lets me know that you are seeing my writing and continued to push me to write more. If no one comments I feel like I'm writing for no one...

thanks guys!