hello fellow writers or readers,

I haven't been updating much though I could have. I guess I just got bored because this is extremely unpopular. That's okay though. I didn't expect it to be a golden fanfic. If you do read this, I hope you'll find this chapter enjoyable. R&R!

He pushed past his mother, tired of living where he did. Toby's sister died with him. His heart left with hers. Yet, he still could breathe despite its difficulty. His father stopped hitting him for the week because of his sister. Usually, Toby got hit every day by his dad because he wasn't good enough, not smart enough, or social enough. It didn't matter. Toby never felt any pain anyway. He was just a toy.

It was all Toby 's fault. Leaving his broken family behind, he slammed the door to his room and tore everything off his bed, turned his whole desk over, breaking everything inside. Her face. Her eyes that stared back at him when he pushed her and lied to her. Tears formed in his eyes. Ridley—the only girl who thought it was okay to be insane. Now, he was his father, telling her she'd never be good enough. As he was about to toss his laptop out the window, Toby saw it. On the floor, next to the mouth guard, was the one thing Toby never returned to her. Ridley's sweatshirt. It was small for her skinny body and light grey. On the front was the words "to the moon and back".

She accidentally left it there when they studied for a test before she left. Ridley used to come over a lot. Toby dropped the laptop and picked up the shirt, holding it against him. The tears began to fall. Toby cried silently, gripping it tightly. The shirt fell from his hands when the idea struck him like lightning. It wasn't Toby's fault he acted like the way he did. If he wasn't so scared of everything, he would still be with Ridley. He was going to save everyone. For the first time in Toby Roger's life, he was going to be the hero.

It started pretty quickly. Toby entered the kitchen when his Mom called for dinner. No one mentioned the immense noise coming from his trashed room. I guess they chose to ignore and deal with it the next day.

"Hello, Toby," his mother began sadly, "did you see Ridley? I heard they were coming back today." He clenched his fists behind his back.

"Yeah." Toby sat at the table and began to eat tiny bits of food.

His eyes focused on his father.

"That Marx family should've stayed wherever they went. All that girl does is wreck havoc everywhere and shame her parents." His mother set her fork down.

"Honey, that's Toby's friend you're talking about."

"I don't care who the hell she is. Toby should have better taste than that," he spat. Shaking in silent fury, Toby got out of his chair and went to the sink to wash his hands.

"Dad, you're right. I should have better taste. Fortunately, I'm not you. I will never get better. I will never have better friends, because despite what you say, there's no better that Ridley could get."

Toby snatched a fork out of the sink, moved over to his father, and stabbed the fork in his neck. Toby's mother screamed and toppled out of her chair. His father howled and gagged. Persistent, Toby returned to stabbing him multiple times. Blood painted the floor and his fingers. Soon, he was dead and his mother was the only one screaming in terror.

"Mom," began Toby.

"No! Get away from me, you monster! Get away!" Hurt, Toby stumbled for words.

"Mom, I'm not going to-" She immediately ran away, not bothering to listen to anything Toby had to say.

He felt his heart drop and his eyes moisten.

"I'm so sorry." Only then did Toby Rogers finally understand what Ridley had written on the wall that day at her birthday. Fear all and love none.

That was exactly what Toby had to do to survive. At the remembrance of Ridley, he fled the home. Toby raided his father's shed and snatched matches and two axes—the one he forced Toby to cut wood with to make him stronger and the one he threatened Toby with as a child. He needed those axes to haunt him. This was going to be his last day living anyway.

Racing across the street, he stopped at Ridley's house. Toby had taken one thing before he left his house—one thing that was necessary for his plan to work. He rung the doorbell and smirked.

Years ago, Toby Rogers had promised Ridley that they would kill her parents together. Since he couldn't get Ridley to do something like that, he promised himself that he would kill them for her. That way, she'd finally be free. The wretched mother of Ridley answered the door. That was the only family she had left since her father died overseas.

"Toby Rogers?" she barked.

"Ms. Marx, I know you may not think so but I think your daughter is the greatest person to ever be known. She's brave and fragile at the same time. She's intelligent, innocent, and beautiful. She's even kind enough to let in an a**hole like me. I wanted to wait until I was older to properly propose to her, but since I'm going to die tonight, I, unfortunately, don't get that luxury. So, with all regards to your struggling, wonderful family, will you grant me your blessing?" Shocked, Ridley's mother stared at Toby.

"What?"

Toby nodded.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Quickly, Toby slit open Ms. Marx's throat. She fell back, dead before she even hit the ground. Toby smiled and bowed dramatically.

"Thank you, ma'am."

Toby Rogers sucked in a breath, terrified and nervous once more. He closed the front door and walked to Ridley's room. Her door was firmly shut. Silent and gingerly, Toby opened her door and stepped inside. He took off her mouth guard and his goggles he stole from his father's shed. He quickly laid down the axes. Her room was pretty, lit dimly with hanging stars and a moon art next to the lights. The walls were filled with her paintings which were, despite Ridley's rejection, graceful. Her desk was clear except for one note. He glanced at her sleeping body. Ridley looked so serene and oblivious it made Toby smile. His eyes traveled back to note and he noticed his name written on it. Curiously, he unfolded it and began reading.

Toby,

Aren't people supposed to write these letters beforehand?

You were right. People like us don't get friends—we definitely don't get each other. I didn't care if you were my friend, Toby. I didn't care if you hated my guts. I just wanted you to say my name like you meant it. I'm so sorry for leaving you. It was my fault for all the pain and suffering I put you through. I think this way, we'll be helping each other. You can live without worrying that I'll hurt you again. I really never wanted to hurt anyone, including my own mother. But, Toby, you have to promise me something. Do whatever just to stay alive. Live a beautiful life, oblivious to others because you are monumental. And if you ever come to a point where you think you're alone, isolated, look at this. It killed me to leave you. I'm so, so sorry. This is only because, Toby, you mean a lot to me. I've felt privileged to have you for years. I wanted to be with you for as long as I could before, well...this happened.

So, in conclusion, I want you to know that if no one else thinks so, I think you are as important as air. Live without other's expectations pulling you down to the bottom of an interminable ocean because you are so worth it.

Goodbye,

Ridley.