Insanity is a Virtue (Andy Biersack love story/BVB fanfiction)

Insanity is a Virtue

The legacy

Born from a dream

On leather wings

Cross from the streets

With the hands on destiny.

I felt a smile tug up at my pale pink lips as the sound of guitars and drums filled my head, along with the screams of Andy Biersack. His voice, mixed with those of the instruments of his fellow band members, always tugged at my heart. I would always breathe harder, smile brighter, and even run faster. For almost five minutes, I could forget about my surroundings and just let my feet carry me to anywhere they pleased.

With the last guitar riff, I found myself standing in the doorway of my AP Chemistry class. Last class of the day. Actually, it was the last class of the year. The final day of school had come around. As I walked to my black lab table for the last time, I felt the familiar stares from my peers. My name could be heard in their conversations. This wasn't new for me. I was the one who wore dark clothing to school everyday. That day, I'd worn a black V-neck t-shirt, black skinnies, and black combat boots that clicked with every step I took. Along with the clothes, my make up was dark as well. My short hair was the only lighter thing on me, but only because of the lilac streaks I had through my black hair.

My look didn't help much with the label bestowed on me; an emo.

The class didn't seem to pass by very quickly. After what'd felt like twenty minutes, I saw that only five had gone by. When I'd sat down, I'd had to take my phone from my back pocket. It was set on the black table. While I zoned myself out from listening to the teacher talking about her summer plans, the phone buzzed twice. A text message. I picked it up, put in my password, and checked the message.

We just got your final grades...we're talking when you get home.

I sighed at the message from my mom. Talking ranged from actually talking to screaming at me about how much of a failure I am at everything I do from both of my parents. Most of the time, though, it was about my failures. The more I thought of the words my parents had told me in the past few years of high school, the worse I felt. At times, the words became too much for me and just made me worse at the subjects I had to concentrate on and being happy with myself.

My breathing quickened, as well as my already racing mind. After a few seconds, I could feel my thoughts leaving me. I shot my hand straight into the air and excused myself from the room before grabbing my bag and phone, getting myself to the girls' bathroom. Thankfully, the bathroom I had run to was empty so I was able to hide myself away in the handicap stall.

I could feel my everyday thoughts slipping from me and the dark, monstrous part of my mind stepping forward. It's a scary thing, really, knowing that the last bit of your sanity is slipping and anything could happen when the insanity sets in. I dropped my bag on the white tile floor and got myself over to a corner, hidden away from those who could look under and see my feet.

A scream clawed at the back of my throat, fighting to escape me. I let out a gasp and tears threatened to fall from my eyes. No crying, no crying, the last bit of my normal mind told me. I always got picked on as a kid for crying in school when I was sad, so I'd given it up when I got to seventh grade. Breathing began to hurt me. Moving any bit of my body felt like a war occurring inside of me.

"Fuck," I growled, falling to the ground. My blurring eyes wandered over the contents of the bathroom. Everything sharp that connected to the walls was something I wanted to cut my skin up with. I shut my eyes and covered my ears. People's voices filled my head, bouncing around in my skull.

Worthless.

Fat.

Slut.

Whore.