A/N: First and formost, since I get the best emotional reaction myself when listening to music while writing, I will be including background tracks from here on out, to illustrate and paint an emotional portrait while you read the chapter to it. Would probably work best in desktop mode. ;)

Soundtrack: The Funeral - Band of Horses

I didn’t see Andy again, so I didn’t bother going outside to explore the gardens. It was strange to me how lifeless and ordinary things appeared when he was not there to comment on them.

After the bright pink faded from my cheeks, I heaved a deep, calming breath and headed in to join my family and their conversations. But as I sat at a bar stool in my Grandma’s kitchen, sipping peppermint tea, I got lost in their words thinking about other things. My thoughts kept looping back to the awkward pre-kiss, and how because of it, the actual kiss never took place. It surprised me how disappointed I felt about that.

I eventually had to just excuse myself to hide in the bathroom and blush violently as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. The flourescent lights above illuminating the discolored patches on my skin brought on my anxiety and heat fluxuations. I patted my cheeks and stared into my eyes, pale green, then my hair, the roots dark black, fading gradually into a smooth emerald green shade.

I was not a super-amazing, glamorous human being, either. Andy’s last words played themselves on a haunting loop and I stared at my face trying to see what he saw. What extraordinary features he saw. All I saw was a confused girl with green hair and green eyes, poking and prodding her patchy pink face. As I observed, I didn’t notice anything that no other girl had ever had. I didn’t have a gorgeous third eye or horns, anything that sat me apart.

Frowning, I finally relaxed. It didn’t truly matter what he saw in me, even though it made me curious. No one had ever taken interest in me as far as I know, or maybe because in school I was always wearing headphones, I never heard those boys speak up or give me nice compliments. It didn’t matter completely, because I obviously saw more in him than just looks, enough to make me lean, even in failure, to kiss him.

Turning on the faucet, I poured some cold water in my hands and splashed it at my face. But once again, unlike any movie, instead of refreshing me, it soaked the top of my dress, the front of my hair, and hung in small droplets from my eyelashes. I just stared, eyes slowly narrowing into a glare as the drops fell from my lashes, carrying with them, the inky black dye of my mascara, carving terrible, jagged tear marks down my cheeks that weren’t even tears. How lovely.

I pulled a tissue from the floral print pastel box beside the sink, and wiped under my eyes, sighing, the mascara left dark shadows where it had trailed.

I took a deep breath and proceeded to clean up, then planting my palms against the counter top, I looked at my reflection and took a deep breath, finally ready to head back out.

~~~


I peeked out into the hall, which was dim with fading sunlight. Distant laughter could be heard, but Andy was nowhere to be seen. I hadn’t quite decided yet if I was going to avoid him after that awkward encounter.

All of that aside, there were other things I was confused about. He said he was my ‘guardian angel’ and it made me curious what exactly that entitled. Obviously I was expecting him to be similar to the ones in Christmas movies and whatnot, with oversized, plush wings, crisp white clothes, always warning poor decisions. But when I looked at him, all I saw was a fallen angel. Baggy black clothes and band shirts hanging off his skinny frame while he studied the massive amount of ink on his arms. Nothing about him screamed ‘heavenly protector’ but there had always been something about him that was defensive and protective, I had noticed it from our first few conversations.

It baffled my mind to think that all those things were true, the spirit part, anyways. Andy had never confirmed if Heaven and Hell existed, or if God and Satan were real, he always refered to them as ‘the other side’ and ‘higher power’.

From the days of my earliest memories, I had been raised to believe in the Lord, and the power of what a good prayer could do. I’d been taught not to sin, to ask for forginess if I did, and to always apologize when I am in the wrong. It’s something parents instill in their children early on, and most kids don’t rebel agaisnt it or think much of it.

Some kids question the reality of it, though. And that phase typically comes shortly after they realize their childhood idols weren’t real, like Santa and the Easter Bunny, typically sending the kid through some sort of pre-puberty crisis as they struggle to accept that most of their childhood is a lie, on top of the body changes they’re facing, plus, questioning the reality of their religion.

I guess half the world divided, 50% keeps on with the religion they were raised on, and the other 50% decide for themselves and explore other religions.

Being raised a Christian, and being given the opportunity to see into the world of the afterlife, just to get a fleeting glimpse of all it really is, gets you thinking. Not in a bad way or anything, it just opens your mind to greater possibilites never before considered.

As I walked down the hall, my eyes fell upon the carved wood cross hanging on the far end. The crucifix had always led me through the worst of times and experiences. I trusted it always would.

Sitting back down at the kitchen island, I listened in to their conversation nonchalantly, feeling my heart leap up my throat when I realized what their conversation was about.

“Yeah, two weeks ago we went to a funeral. For one of the neighbors’ nephews... What a tragedy.” My Dad shook his head sympathetically.

“Which neighbor?” Evelyn wondered.

“The Biersacks.” He responded, clearing his throat, “Andrew and Clarisse Biersack. Andrew’s brother, Chris, his son was in a car accident while visiting Pendant over the weekend.”

“Oh, dear...” She looked faint. “I remember meeting Chris and Clarisse a few years ago, over Christmas.” She recalled. I remembered that, too. It was distant, because I was maybe eight at the time, but I remember Chris and Clarisse visiting us on Christmas Eve, bringing cookies and watching Christmas Vacation in the living room.

Dad sighed, shaking his head. No one had noticed me return yet.

“What makes it worse is, on Sunday, on our way back from church, we came across the wreck. They were just...” His breath slipped away hopelessly, eyes distant with the memory. “Trying to revive him right there. Ash saw it, and I don’t think she knew what to expect. She just stood there, still as stone, watching. There was something in her eyes, trying to comprehend, to understand... After that incident, she just hasn’t been the same. She’s been distant, tired... I think it put her into some kind of shock.”

I silently slipped down from my chair and backed out into the hallway, pressing my back against the wall, I heaved a sigh and closed my eyes.

“Well, those kinds of events tend to have a lasting effect.” My Grandmother added thoughtfully.

“It’s not only that...” He paused, looking around to be sure I wasn’t there, lowering his voice, “She’s been very rebellious since the funeral. Missed classes, ditched school two days, got in a fight and one day when she was ditching, she didn’t come home until ten that night. Had the whole neighborhood out looking for her.”

I could hear my Dad’s Itailian traits seeping into his disappointed tone. He shook his head. “I really don’t know what’s gotten into her. We grounded her for a bit, and she didn’t fight it, which was weird... You’d look at her, and she always looked like she was fighting an internal battle. Forhead all crunched up in thought, she didn’t like to leave home, or leave her room. She’d stay in there all day, writing and reading. She’s not social anymore, got in a fight with her friends at school, now she just isolates herself.”

“Do you think it might just be a delayed reaction to the shock?” Evelyn wondered. While frail looking and full of sweet and endearing comments, she still had a hard ass side that was very protective and thoughtful.

“Who knows?”

“Maybe you should try some therapy? Get her on the right track again. Clearly something there set her off, all you’ve gotta do is right the problem.”

“Hmm, we hadn’t thought of that.” My Mother sighed, “Maybe it’d help her... But if she finds out, and is upset about it, she’ll only drive herself deeper into this.”

“It’s just a chance you might need to take... I’d think it over, first. Make sure it’s what you want to do before you suggest it. Maybe don’t suggest it head-on, hint at it, and maybe she’ll make the decision for herself.”

There was a pause of silence.

“Maybe...” My Dad agreed warily, “One of the problems with Ash is, she’s never been a super open and outgoing person. She’s always kinda hid behind the things she loves. Always has headphones on, blocking out the rest of the world, it’s hard to get a word in. She’s hard to approach on different subjects without upsetting her.”

I hung my head guiltily, realizing he was right. I didn’t always do it intentionally, it just came with who I was and how I presented myself.

“Anyways, I’m hoping that being out here, with the fresh air and new scenery, will be enough to get her to start thinking about other things. Not just the rebellion, but her dedication to her music. I get that might be what she wants to do, and she’s good at it, but I just don’t see the logic in that career path, you know?”

My heart sank.

“Oh, I don’t know.” My Grandmother disagreed thoughtfully, “I could see it working out.”

“I know, I know... But I just feel like she has an unrealistic expectation of a music career. She played with a band oncea week ago, and since then, she’s been talking quite a bit about music.”

“She’s inspired.” My Grandmother vouched for me, pride in her tone. “That’s one of the best ways to go about things.”

“Maybe, but having your head in the clouds doesn’t make you succeed.” He disagreed again, voice lowering in annoyance.

“She has a plan, at least. That’s more than you can say for a lot of the kids these days.”

“I guess... It’s just that most kids these days want to be doctors or something similar. Music is just a dream that inevitably gets pushed to the back burner by life.” He finished firmly, tone hinted that the conversation was over.

My heart proceeded to lower itself into the depths of my chest while I held my breath to control the angry tears that wanted to rise to my eyes. All along I believed that out of my two parents, my Dad believed in me the most, encouraging the career path I desired. Only to find out through eavesdropping that that wasn’t even the case... The complete opposite, actually.

I clenched and unclenched my fingers in annoyance, waiting for the anger to pass. It didn’t even irritate me, really, I just felt hurt and disappointed...

“Fine...” I murmured under my breath, just deciding I did not want to take part in anymore conversations, I headed out the backdoor to the backyard, letting the screen door slam with enough force to show my aggression and hopefully share with the group that I had heard.

It was childish for me to make such an exit, but when you’re in the moment, you’re careless, and don’t really care how dumb it is. I stalked down the brick path, deeper into the garden, twining downwards slowly, the path shrouded by a low brick wall that gradually got higher the further down the path I went, the edges curving around into massive flowerpots full of merrigolds and forget-me-nots.

There was the low hum of insects and bird wings, as the creatures made their way around the garden. The sky was growing a light shade of grey, darkening the garden.

There were sprinklers on, watering the patches of grass between the flowerbeds and decorative pieces. Ducking under the low branches of different fruit trees and cherry blossom trees, I made my way to the far side of the yard, where it was divided by a white picket fence, declaring the end of my Grandma’s property. There in the far corner, was a massive weeping willow tree, bent protectively over a pond of koi fish.

As I approached, I looked down at the water, the sunlight glistening off the multi-colored backs of the fish as they swirled around under the sparkling surface seamlessly.

Stepping around the edge of the water, I went under the tree, and sat on the white column bench, and looked at the water thoughtfully. There was a small shelf of waterfalls at the point of the pond, pouring filtered water into the greater body, making the water lillies that sat atop the water ripple with the vibration of falling water.

It was peaceful, and nice, yet lonely... It reminded me of the many times I’d visited Apture alone, I’d sit in the rain for hours, penning down new lyrics, never speaking a word. Luckily there was enough sounds in nature to keep me from going insane.

Those were strange days... And as I thought of them, stranger they seemed. It seemed impossible to imagine I once led a perfectly normal life. Even if that life was only two and a half weeks ago, it felt like fiction to look back on it. Impossible that there had ever been days that I awoke without someone in my room, nights I hadn’t snuck out and caused trouble. Like listening to someone else’s life, mine was no longer anything like that.

Who was that girl? I wondered as I saw my reflection in the dark water in front of me. She looked ragged, strung out, and nothing like the sweet thing from two weeks ago. Who was this girl becoming? Who was I becoming?

I hugged my arms, and a fish leapt above the water’s surface, shattering my reflection in a collection of rough splashes.

Maybe what happened back then didn’t matter. I could, and should, be living for today. Doing what I want and being happy all the while... That would be easy if there weren’t so many people disagreeing with my choices.

“Ugh...” I groaned, dropping my head into my hands.

“Ash?”

I looked up immediately, searching for the source.

Andy was perched above me, in one of the branches of a huge cottonwood tree on the other side of the water, his leather clad feet dangling down, face drawn in a sheepish expression.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry... For yelling at you.” He cleared his throat before continuing, his deep voice rumbling with sincere words. “I’m just frustrated, tired and stressed... Guess right now you understand that feeling better that anyone.”

I didn’t have a smart ass reply for him, so I just looked sullenly back at the water. “It’s okay.” I murmured.

“I heard what your Dad said...” Andy murmured after a moment, pushing himself off the branch, falling from the tree without any look of fear, until he landed on the balls of his feet. He walked slowly around the pool to sit beside me with a huff, leaning back against the tree.

“I did, too...” I murmured quietly, not looking away from the fish. “I thought he believed in my dream.”

“Dream?” Andy echoed in confusion. “Wait, which conversation are you talking about?”

I looked up in confusion. “There’s been more than that one?”

“Well... Yeah...” He floundered, scratching the back of his neck.

“What about?” I demanded, my voice cracked, betraying my hurt.

“Different things...” He said reluctantly, I could see in his eyes how bad it was, and why he didn’t want to say anything.

“Oh...”

“He gets frustrated with you... Wants you to do something similar to his or your mother’s job. He doesn’t understand you, and is still disappointed in you. He said he wishes you would like the neighbor boy, because he has a good family. He wants you to have a good life, but doesn’t understand what you want to get that.”

I was quiet as I took in his words, surprise taking over anything I had planned to say.

“The neighbor kid?” I echoed quietly. “Thomas,” I recalled his name thoughtfully. “I guess he’s okay. He’s always playing sports or volunteering for something. He never appealed to me. Always came off as a sweetheart who would be agreeable on everything, without any real self-substance. I’m not surprised that he’s disappointed, I just heard the same thing...”

A breeze sifted through my hair, pushing it out of my face. “I didn’t know he felt like that. He wasn’t even diplomatic or anything... He just... Put it out in the open.” I gestured weakly with my hands. “I guess that’s just his nature. To be a hard-ass Italian. I never ended up with any of his heartless traits, he can be so cold sometimes. And harsh...”

Wrapping a comforting arm around my shoulders, Andy leaned into me, looking at hte water with calm, bright blue eyes rimmed in dark makeup, freshly applied. “I guess I’m lucky my family was so supportive... My peers, were not, but I didn’t really care what they thought. Family is different, because their support could change everything. For better or for worse.”

“What can I do?” I murmured, my voice distant as I thought.

“Try to change his mind?” He suggested. “He’ll have to come around, eventually.”

“Unlikely.” I frowned, sighing. “I’ve never had much luck motivating anyone to change their opinion on something.”

He shrugged a little in thought. “I dunno, you changed my mind.”

“How so?”

“Preppy girls.” He clarified, using his hands to describe. “They’re all the same in my mind. You’re different.”

I scoffed, “A bad different, I suppose.”

“No. No way...” He shook his head firmly, looking down thoughtfully. “A good different. Like a deep breath of fresh air after being cooped up in your bedroom for days, ill with a cold. That first, deep breath that changes everything.”

“I’m a deep breath of fresh air?” I clarified with a limited smile.

“More like oxygen itself.” He complimented, grinning at me brilliantly, infecting me with the warm feeling of happiness I’d been lacking. “Air I breathe, and the reason I stayed.”

I was skeptical of where his comments were going.

He pulled me into a tight, emotional hug. I wrapped my arms tightly around him and disappeared into his embrace. Out of sight, out of mind for anyone searching for me. He pressed his stone cold lips to my forehead in a firm seal of promise, before resting his chin atop my mess of awkward emerald green and black hair, breathing fondly, he finally spoke up.

“I’ll always stay.” He concluded, his voice final and certain. Those three words erased my doubt, and softened my heart. I relaxed, letting the harsh words of my family and peers sift into the background while I thought about those simple words. A promise. A promise that would cost a lifetime of committment, protection and care. Something I valued beyond words. I could bring myself to speak any words in reply, so instead I squeezed him just a little tighter to assure him I’d heard.

Notes

Inspired by the before mentioned song, plus You Won't See Me Tonight (Part 1) - Avenged Sevenfold

Shoutouts!

- anathema
- blackveilkitty