Andy

**I posted another chapter before this one, make sure to read it if you haven't yet**

“The crashing waves can’t pull you down, even when your tears are bleeding out the joy inside of me. You were just beyond my reach.”
Beyond my Reach - Andy Black


I press my ear against the cellar door intently, listening to the siblings’ conversation. It was dark and distrubing.

“I doubt anyone will look for her here for a while. Might as well head back.”

“What? No. It takes at least eight minutes for the brain to fully shut down. We’re not doing this half-ass.”

“Fine, fine, whatever...”

And ever so calmly, they moved on from talking about how long it takes to drown to death, t0 talking about sports teams and career ambitions. I shiver, and hug my hands to my chest to keep them warm. The last thing I need is to lose them both to frostbite or something stupid like that.

My anger returns in full, and I begin dreaming of the horrific things I would do to the twins when I get out... But there’s still that last, large hurdle to deal with... Getting out.

I wait for five minutes, then ten, and then, when I’m losing faith and fearing not being found, there’s a disturbance outside. I hear the scuffing of footsteps circling around the cellar door, followed by Nora and James’ confused comments, until one of them asks. “Hey... Is that the Biersack kid?”

My heart lunges into my chest, and I scoot further up on the stairs, my waterlogged clothes trying to coax me back into the gloomy dark water below.

“Holy crap, he’s alive!” Nora screams, but before they can shout anything else in excitement, there’s the sound of something heavy landing in a puddle, follows by Andy’s beautifully outraged voice.

“The girl? Where the hell is the girl?”

“What girl?!” James wails at him in the same tone he used on me.

“Andy!” I shriek, pounding my fists on the door. “Andy! I’m here! Help!”

Everything gets really quiet, and I fear the worst. “Andy?” I call out with less hope, and still, there’s silence.

“It’s okay, babygirl.” Andy’s low, angered voice responds. I hear the clatter of chains on the other side of the door, and then he yanks them open, standing over the hole dramatically like a real-life Batman.

He holds his hand towards me, and I shakily reach for it, gripping is palm tightly, my teeth chattering as I choke out a ‘thank you’.

“You have nothing to thank me for.” He assures me, grabbing my shoulders, holding me at arms length to get a good look at my face, titling my chin up to inspect my eyes. “Heh, if Ashley hadn’t known where you went, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Ashley?” I echo in confusion in surprise, before I turn around and see Ashley standing there, his expression creased with great displeasure. “Thanks.” I whisper with chattering teeth, causing Andy to look at me with concern in his eyes, before peeling off his leather jacket, draping it over my shoulders. I almost protest, before I remember he really doesn’t need it.

“The- the call. You deleted it, right? My parents can’t hear that... They wouldn’t understand why I’d leave a cryptic message like that.”

He looks really confused for a moment. “Uh... Ash, the phone never rang.”

“What?... The...”

Right, the power and phone lines are still out. Stupid me. Lucky Ashley knew where to look.

“My parent don’t know, right?”

He shakes his head, frowning. “Don’t you think we should take this to the cops? Or the FBI? Army? Deep Web Assassination Service?” He suggests, reaching towards my face to wipe off a smudge of dirt debris.

I laugh, unable to remain serious, and he smiles a little bit, but remains stoic. “Ash, they tried to murder you. They can’t get away with that, you know that, right?”

I nod stiffly, before looking around, realizing there was no sign of either of them. “Where are they?”

Andy turns, and confusion colors his expression. “What the hell?...”

There’s no tracks in the mud... No sign anyone was there aside from my own tracks of struggle. Almost like they simply flew away when no one was watching.

“Alright, who the fuck cares about them. They’ll catch Hell later. For now, we need to get you home and make sure that you don’t catch anything. Last thing we need is for you to get sick.”

He pulls me to his icy chest for a tight hug, and I fall limply into the hug, grateful to have him there. “Come on.” He breaths, grabbing my hand to lead me home, but I stumble on my locking, stiff knees.

“Let me carry you.” He whispers, easily scooping me into his bare, inked arms. I rest my head against his chest, rocking back and forth slowly as he carried me home. I dozed off a little in the short trip, the exerting swim draining me completely. I hardly have the energy to lift my head now.

“Your parents are home.” Andy informs me as he carries me up the driveway, “What do you want to do? Confront them about what happened?”

I don’t feel much like making a decision, but if I don’t get on it while the evidence is fresh, no one will believe me... Hell, I hardly believe myself. Two of the sweetest teens on the block tried to drown me in their flooded cellar. That’s horror movie shit.

I nod, and he understands, gently setting me back on my feet, steadying me until I get the hang of standing.

“Are you okay?” He asks doubtfully, to which I nod weakly. “Yeah, for now.”

I turn the front door handle and let myself inside, slumping against the wall as I kick off my soated boots, and peeling off my socks.

“Mom?” I call hoarsely into the seemingly empty house. “Dad?”

“Yes, honey?” I hear my Dad’s voice from the living room.

“I need you.” I call back, but it quickly turns into a pitiful wail of agony as I slide down the wall to my knees, tears pouring down my cheeks, carving perfect lines in the mud caked to my skin.

He walks out of the den to investigate, and comes to an immediate stop when he spots his drowned-rat daughter sobbing uncontrollably by the front door.

“Sandy?!” He calls for Mom, rushing forward to cradle me against his chest, sending a wave of warmth and comfort over me... A feeling I’d been missing for nearly eleven years... In fact, the last time I can remember a hug of comfort like this... Was before Mom miscarried. I’d scraped my knee riding my bike, and he hugged me while he fixed it up. I’d never realized how much I missed the feeling until now, and it only made me cry harder.

Mom runs into the foyer, confused and worried as Dad.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know.” Dad tells her, continuing to sway me back and forth. I feel a cold hand on my shoulder, and I immediately know it’s Andy. He doesn’t say anything, but the gesture is enough.

Mom hugs my other side, and I am enveloped in the love of my parents... And despite the terrible thing I have just experienced, and the ongoing terror of the past three weeks, I feel complete.

I wonder idly if it’s only because I’m crying that they’re trying so hard... When Ferguson attacked me, I didn’t cry... I just kind of accepted it, stupid as it sounds. I moved forward, and have blocked the event out of my head, but I never cried, at least, not publicly... Maybe that’s why they didn’t extend their love and support so much at the time.

“Ash,” My mom coons softly, smoothing back dripping locks of my green hair, stained a deep green from the water. “Honey, what happened? Tell us so we can help.”

By that point, I don’t even think that it was just almost drowning that had brought me to tears. It wasn’t the deception and loss of innocence that almost dying had brought, no, it’s something so much more. It’s a compilation of everything that has happened to me in the last three weeks. One month of Hell on Earth, while still managing to be the best month of my life because it’s the most alive I’ve ever felt.

Surely that makes me insane... Does it not? To consider Hell to be the best part of my life. In three weeks time, I succumbed to depression and anxiety, almost died, snuck out and almost got caught many times... I got grounded, I got a suspension from school for punching a girl, and I almost met my water loo in California with Eva and her friends. The ongoing flood, and all the lives lost, how I was almost raped, but certainly sexually assaulted by a creepy old fuck while trying to bring Andy back to life through my memories, and having Ashley return, and finding bodies in the woods, and learning of clones and Charlie Apture and everything else... Yet, in this seemingly endless Hell, I’m still finding good things. Things that genuinely make me smile.

In all these terrible things, there is one distinct thing that is keeping me going. In three weeks, I managed to meet, befriend, and fall in love with my best friend, perhaps even my soulmate, though surely I’m too inexperienced to really understand the weight of those words.

I love him, though, that much I am certain of. If our roles were ever reversed, I would do everything in my power to protect him and love him unconditionally as he has loved and cared for me.

And my parents, of course I love them. Loving your parents is sort of the ‘requirement’ of birth, and something you just grow up accepting as true, but I do love them very much, and despite the trouble we’ve faced in the past few weeks, I still feel the glow of their love for me, even though they should be ready to ship me off to boot camp by now.

They had a perfect life three weeks ago. When the church doors opened on that overcast sunny afternoon, none of us knew how much things were going to change before we even got home.

Call it fate, call it destiny, call it ‘God’s will’, but one thing is certain about that, change is meant to happen, and it did.

We spent far too long in the same comfortable little bubble. Dad had the perfect, well paying job he loved, with plenty of time off for family stuff, Mom had her dream job, designing dresses for some snobby women, and the occasional little known celebrity. We lived in a huge suburban house with cliche, magazine cut-out neighbors who mow their laws every other day in stainless pastel polos and khaki shorts. The kind of neighbors who everyone knows by name, and wave at when they spot each other, instead of hanging their heads, trying to ignore the fact that you just made eye contact.

I was a perfect straight A student with a promising future and an unshakable love for the Lord. I had a small, comfortable group of friends, and I never spoke up too much, always going with the flow of things until something broke in me and I pushed back against the grain.

I pushed back with all my strength, but little did I know at the time, that when I thought I was simply pushing back against my own destiny, that I was actually pushing the support pillars out from under everything we’d spent a lifetime building. And just as could be predicted, it all eventually fell, piece by piece, until there was nothing.

“Honey, speak to us.” Dad pleads, hugging me, his voice pulling me out of my daydreaming state. I blink, and shake away the hazy feeling lingering over me, unable to quite find the words I need, and unable to actually form them and spit them out. My tongue rebels against me, and I can’t speak.

He wipes streaks of mud from my face with his thumb, both him and my Mother study my face with concern.

“You’re all muddy.” He notes, realizing that there’s more dirt caked to my clothes that he initially saw. “What happened out there? Were you in the woods?”

I shake my head, locking my jaw, struggling with what to say, while trying to find the less hurtful words that wouldn’t put my parents into a chaotic frenzy of shock.

“No-” I whisper, and my voice breaks, failing me. “No, I was...” I swallow, and my throat erupts with an aching burn. “I was with Nora and James Riley...” I narrow my eyes into a glare, staring down at the tiled floor of the foyer. “They asked for my help, saying their mother was stuck in the flooded cellar, so I went over.”

“What happened?”

I look up at my Dad and I can see the stubborn look in his eyes. He doesn’t want to believe that something bad might’ve happened to me, but he can’t stand the idea of what would happen if something had.

“They pushed me in.” I whisper numbly, losing all emotion in my voice. I struggle to remain as calm as I can, but there’s fresh tears coming, and my eyes are stinging. “They pushed me in and slammed the door like it was a game. I can’t swim, I couldn’t... I almost drowned in there.”

“How did you get out?” My mom asks in horror, her eyes wide, tearing up.

“My phone hadn’t died, thank God... I was able to find my way out of the darkness.”

“Honey, call the cops, this shit isn’t going to fly.” My Mom tells my Dad with more severity than I’ve ever heard from her. She never cusses or anything, so she must be mad...

Dad nods, and gets up, jogging into the kitchen to grab his cellphone, which left me cradled in my Mom’s arms, still shaking, still out of breath, and still terrifed by the events that had taken place not five minutes earlier.

“That’s the last time I go outside.” I joke meekly, but the humor doesn’t reach my voice, it just gets stuck in my throat, leaving my voice rough and terrified.

I can hear my Dad pacing around in the kitchen, yelling in frustration into his phone.

“I need an officer here now. Please?”

Moments pass and Dad growls in frustration. “Fine... Fine, yes, okay... Thanks.”

My Mom kisses my forehead and hugs me tight as Dad enters the room again, his face red. “They can’t spare an officer right now, but they’ll send one as soon as they can. What a joke.” He scoffs, dropping to his knees at my side again, asking me to give them a detailed recount of the story.

I’m shivering and exhausted, completely incapable of doing much more. “I can’t talk about this anymore... Can I go dry off real quick? Take a nap and regain my energy?”

They look at each other and slowly agree. “Okay, Honey. Come talk to us a soon as you can... We love you Honey, and it kills us when stuff like this happens. We’re with you, okay?”

I nod stiffly, and accept the help getting to my feet. Andy guides me the rest of the way up the stairs to my room, steadying me every time I begin to waver.

“What a crappy day.” He mutters, closing the door behind him. I nod, and sit on my bed, soaking the blankets. “Where’s Ashley?”

He turns, but there’s no one but us. “I think he’s in his room... I’m not sure...”

He shrugs, and paces, still visibly angry. “It kills me to think of what might’ve happened had we not made it... It angers me even more that I was not around to prevent it, I mean, your clock never changed, how was I supposed to know?”

I listen to him, the words come at me, sounding blurry and distorted before something finally settles into place. “My clock?” I wonder, looking up at him.

He stops pacing and stares at me as though I was his child and he accidently told me what my Christmas presents were. The look of slipping up, and trying to pretend it’s not a big deal, when it’s actually a very big deal.

“Uh...”

“You know, you seem to be hiding a lot from me,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him suspiciously. “I know there’s something about you that allows you to see someone’s death, but you won’t tell me...”

He doesn’t answer, which automatically confirms it.

“Some kind of clock, that only you can see, right?”

He stares down at his feet, shamefaced.

“And it ticks down to the moment of death, correct? Mine did not change, or at least, you weren’t there when the path was altered. I merely went outside, and Nora and James approached me... You couldn’t have seen.”

The look in his eyes told me I had guessed some version of the truth, but he still stubbornly refused to confirm it vocally.

“What else can you do?” I ask, sitting up straighter, eager to get my mind away from the dark place it has wandered off to, even if the place I was going to was full of mystery, suspense, and unanswered questions. “Andy, help me escape my mind. Indulge me in your weirdness... Please.”

His firm, declining expression shifted a little as he thought about what I’d said, before sighing and walking to the window, sitting down on the bench in front of the glass. He glanced out the window, getting a good view of the sidewalk to the right of his view, and just as he opens his mouth to speak, he gasps in surprise, a sound that sounds more like a startled choke.

“Holy shit, Ash!” He stands up, pointing out the window. My blood runs cold and I rush to the window, planting my palms against the windowpane, looking out into the downpour.

I see someone out on the sidewalk, in a white t-shirt and jeans - no jacket. It’s a man, and he’s reasonable height, weilding something in his hands. It takes me a moment to process what I’m seeing before I realize it’s my Dad out there, and the thing in his hands is a gun.

He’s walking briskly north, out of view, most likely in the direction of the Rileys’.

“No!” I shout, shoving myself away from the window, throwing open the door to my room and running down the stairs, almost tripping twice. Andy is hot on my trail, blurring ahead of me to the door.

“Let me handle it, Ash.” He tells me before running out the door. I hesitate a moment, unsure what he has in mind... But I quickly disregard his request and throw on my drenched jacket and boots, dashing out the door after them.

All I can hear is my pulse pounding fiercely in my ears, and the slap of the water under the soles of my boots as I run after my Dad’s blurred figure. I can’t see Andy anywhere, and I have no time to worry about his whereabouts.

“Dad!” I shout after him as loud as I can, but I think my voice is carried away in the rain, as he just keeps moving forward, maintaining a rushed, steady pace towards the Rileys’ house.

I try yelling again, and again, until my already raw throat is burning in agony. I taste a metallic substance in my mouth, but muster up the strength to yell once more, my voice vibrating in my chest as his name leaves my mouth, only to be pounded into the earth by the heavy downpour.

I run as fast as I can, but he’s at their door, knocking angrily. I rush, but every step seems to push me further away.

To my utter panic, the door opens, and warm yellow candlelight floods over my father, standing drenched on their front stoop. It’s their mother there, with their father hanging over her shoulder. They stare at my Dad in confusion before mouthing what I assume is a greeting.

Dad starts yelling immediately, but I can’t hear him. I can only see the pent up rage on his face as he explains the problem with brutish frustration.

“Andy?!” I shriek, praying he hears me, wherever he is. “Get his gun! Get the gun! If he does something stupid, it’s all over.”

The scratching of my voice in my throat throws me to the ground coughing like mad, still managing to cough up splatters of water from my recent swimming session.

I can’t go anymore, I can’t get back up. I don’t have the engergy to pull my ass off the ground... All I can do is weakly lift my head, to see my Dad reaching back for the gun in the back of his waistband, so outraged for answers that he does not realize how fucking stupid what he’s doing is.

Andy materializes behind him, at first falling from the sky like a handful of ashes, swirling in the wind before resuming human form. He darts forward and grabs the gun, leaving my father patting around his back pockets for it. When he realizes he doesn’t have it, he’s forced to change his demeanor.

Come on, get up. I whisper to myself as motivatingly as possible, locking my joints, slowly peeling myself up from the concrete. I move forward, ever so slowly, until I am standing at the end of their driveway. Nora and James’ parents notice me and say something to my father that makes him turn around. I stumble forward, each step agony. I don’t want to be here, near this house... This house is hell.

“Your kids tried to drown my daughter!” He yells in frustration, gesturing at me. They become very worried and shocked, but soon that emotion fades into almost angered expressions.

“What are you playing at, Hunter?” The mother demands, crossing her arms tightly.

“What am I playing at?!” He shouts back, his eyes growing wild with emotions that were foreign on his face. “You’re defending them and their actions?!”

She looks taken aback, “What actions? They’ve done nothing wrong. Look, David, I don’t know where things got messed up along the line, but I think you’re mistaken. My kids have been staying with their Grandmother in Salt Lake City all week.”

My Dad’s expression drops, and he takes a long moment to process this new news.

“Your... Kids... Never...” He closes his eyes and shakes his head, “They’re not even here?”

“No.” She kind of glares at him, “And if you want, I can call their Grandmother to confirm that neither of them have left.” She adds on with a snarky tone.

Dad quickly deflates, and turns towards me, staring me dead in the eyes, a cold look of betrayal and confusion in his eyes. I want to explain, but I can’t speak another word.

In fact, the world starts to spin, and I can’t keep up. The ground feels like it’s shifting out from underneath me, and I have no choice but to fall.

So I do.

I fall into complete darkness, asleep before I even hit the ground.

Notes

chapter inspired by Wait by M83