In His Light (Andy Biersack)

Chapter Twenty-Two(Boxes)

Chapter Twenty-Two

     Look Everyone! I updated a bit faster this time! Whoooo:) Anyway I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS ONE!! It may seem out there but I thought I'd answer some of the things, well mostly one thing in this chapter...Little news update for you guys. I don't have school Monday and I'm exempt from all of my classes minus math, probably because I sort of am still failing...but hey! I hate math. With a passion ._.  Sooo please vote, comment, message me...write me a letter. Call me, email me. Anything. Haha I freaking love your feedback so much I may marry it. And of course-I LOVE EVERY SINGLE FRACKING ONE OF YOU!:D THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING THIS WAS THE LONGEST POST THING-A-LING EVER. OKAY..BYE;)

    I dabbed my soaked hair with one of Andy's towels, holding my phone in the other hand. My mother was on a full sprint with her judgmental accusations and over dramatic reactions. I nodded along to every gut wrenching word, my security and self esteem diminishing with the time. Andy was preparing something in the kitchen and I couldn't help but zone out with the sound of his singing.

"All around me are familiar faces.

Worn out places, worn out faces.

Bright and early for the daily races.

Going nowhere, going nowhere."

    I started wondering why he hadn't formed a band or had been taken up. Then again, Andy didn't seem like the type to let people hear his talent.

"You might as well grab your things and leave." My mother snapped.

   I dropped my towel, feeling the burning sensation of tears splattering my eyes. She wasn't serious. She couldn't be. I felt so hopeless and childish with the fear that was rising within me. I didn't have anywhere to go other than here. I gulped and tightened the towel around my body.

"P-please. Mom, I-I didn't mean for a-any of this to happen." I choked.

"You're eighteen years old anyway. It's about time." She spit.

   I leaned forward and drew in a long breath. Would Andy let me move in? I had so many worries. I slowly rose from the edge of his bed and threw on some clothes, my damp hair smacking my spine, as I exited through the sliding door. I could feel his eyes watching me in curiosity, that or he was pissed off that I wouldn't have this conversation in front of him.

    I leaned against the wooden railing of the porch, Andy's punk baseball tee hanging loosely on my body. I closed my eyes and listened to the unwinding details of my move. I should've expected this. It wasn't like they enjoyed my existence anyway. I was shocked they hadn't surprised me with suitcases on my 18th birthday instead of a brand new bedroom set.

    Andy slid through the glass doors and cocked an eyebrow at my fading expression. I gulped and allowed my focus to drift off towards the towering man who was now closing all the empty space between us.

"Who is it?" He asked.

"My mom." I swallowed.

"Oh, goody."

    He grabbed the phone from my hand and hit end. I couldn't believe he had just hung up on my mom in the middle of her rage.

"Why are you about to cry?" He asked.

"I-I'm not."

"Murey."

"I cant do this right now, okay?" I snapped.

    I threw myself off of the railing and started for the door, feeling his hand yank me by the arm. I tumbled backwards and met my previous position on the railing again, my breath panicked. His jaw was clenched and I could tell he wasn't in the mood for games.