I'm not fine ~ Randy

Chapter 11

03.10.17

Dear Ryan,

so much has happened since the last time I wrote.

Caroline attacked me, saying that something was my fault. Knowing me it probably was too. You two had an argument right before, so maybe it was my fault that you were fighting?

Maybe she doesn't want you to hang out with me anymore at all. I know you've had a conversation about it before where you agreed to not hang out with me as much as you used to.

I really hated that time. You weren't yourself. It felt like she was controlling you, making you do things you didn't want to.

Maybe she thinks I'm a threat. Maybe she thinks I'm going to steal you from her. Maybe she attacked me because of that.

The thing is, it wouldn't even have been a big deal, it's not like it hasn't happened before, if it wasn't for the fact that my cuts opened. If they hadn't neither of you would have cared.

Not that Caroline did now either. Where did she go actually? She just disappeared after she pushed me. You didn't seem to care though, you were only looking at me.

And I remember the look you gave me when you saw my cuts. I can't get it out of my head. The look of disappointment and sadness.

It looked like you were about to cry, but it was probably because of the fight you had with Caroline. You don't care about me, but still, you helped me. Why did you help me?

I'm a nobody that should kill himself. At least that's what my voice tells me to do and the fans.

Did you know that the fans don't want me to be in the band anymore? Or alive at all? They tell me I'm not good enough and that you and the boys only keep me in the band because you feel sorry for me.

To be fair it's probably true. I have a terrible voice, I'm ugly and I'm not even nice. How could I fit in the band with four other lovely guys that are perfect?

You guys have it all. You got the looks, the talent and the personality. I've got none of those.

How the hell am I still a part of this band?

Love, Andy.

I close the diary and end up just sitting on the toilet lid toying with a razor blade. The diary with the attached pen laying in my lap.

"Why don't you just end it?"

"Nobody wants you here, you're just a waste of time and space"

"You have the blade in your hand, use it for something good"

"End it, Andrew"

I look at the big scar on my wrist. I remember Rye's fingers brushing over it. How good it had felt when he held me, how safe I felt in his arms.

My thoughts were interrupted by a loud banging on the door. My head snapped up.

"Andy, are you in there?" I heard a voice ask from the other side, Rye.

I kept quiet, praying that he would just go away. It didn't work, if anything it just made the knocking harder. I was afraid he would end up breaking the door, or worse, hurt himself.

"Leave me alone Rye" My voice came out weaker then I wanted to, but strong enough for Rye to hear, because the banging stopped.

"Are you okay?" His soft voice came through the door.

"I don't know Rye, I really don't know" I sobbed out.

After that it went quiet, I had moved to sit down with my back to the door, and somehow I knew that Rye sat with his back to the door on the other side just waiting for me to come out.

Maybe wishing he could do something to help, but knowing he couldn't do anything. Maybe he was wishing for me to be okay.

But whatever he was surely wishing for, he was the only one knowing and I would never get to know.