Wretched and Divine; An Andy Biersack Fanfiction

Exordium

I was 7 years old when I met Andrew. He was always very wild, unable to be calm. He was 12 when our mothers introduced us. We had remained friends until he was 17, the age in which you are considered an adult male in The Wasteland. He went out on his journey to survive for 14 nights on his own. He never returned.

I was old enough to understand by then. My only friend had died. He wasn't going to beat me at racing anymore. He wasn't going to complain to me about his father to me anymore. I would never see his gorgeous eyes again. Every night I cried and dreamt about those eyes. Thought of them being alive again.

There was no ceremony. Everyone was raised to believe if the man was not strong enough to survive, he wasn't worth the time to remember. I didn't believe that. I knew Andrew was worthy of a proper ceremony. One night, I snuck out of my small window and looked around for a stone. I spotted a large white-blue one next to some greenery. 

I managed to roll it over to a spot only visible from my window. Father would be furious to know I gave Andrew an illegal ceremony, and he would surely turn me in. I shuddered at the thought of all the times I had witnessed a hanging. It was mandatory any person over 10 years attend the excecutution of a wrong-doer. 

I climbed back into my window and grabbed my black paint I had maid from the tar pit with water and mud. It reminded me of Andrew. He always made the best paint. I sighed audibly, swallowing the lump in my throat. 

After writing his name on the stone, I debated praying over it. Much to my and Andrew's fathers hatred, neither of us new what to believe in. Andrew didn't think he even believed in any religion. Of course, only we knew the extent of our lack of faith. If any word got to the head of F.E.A.R. that anyone doubted a god at all, it was surely a trip to the gallows.

I decided not to. I just got down on my knees and remembered. I remembered his voice, his scent, his eyes, his light brown hair, that was usually unkept and in hanging in his eyes, but mostly, I remembered his voice. How it had been deeper than my fathers since I met him. How it was gruff, even before he was smoking.

I remembered every moment we had together. Before I knew it, I was crying.

Then I realized.

Andrew was gone.

He was dead.

I was the only one who cared.

And he was dead because F.E.A.R. had sent him out.

It was F.E.A.R.'s fault my only friend wasn't coming back.

That was the moment I found myself thinking, if someone started a rebellion, I would surely join.

I wasn't afraid of death anymore.

AN: Surprise! (: A new story! I have almost ALL of this one already planned out. So you can guess I will be updating this ALOT! (: In fact, the next chapteris on it's way AS YOU READ THIS (: Enjoy!