Save Me.

It's been three days since my father sent that voicemail.

I hadn't told anyone. It terrified me. If they found out, they would all end up killing him. Not that I minded, but I didn't want them in trouble, let alone in prison for murder.

It wasn't easy keeping it a secret. I was desperate to talk to someone about this, but I had no one to turn to. So, of course, I turned back to the one thing I knew would never fail me, even if I sort of wanted it to.

"Emily are you okay?" Zacky asked for the tenth time in the past hour. My head was spinning. If he found me, I'd be dead. So dead.

"Mhm," I nodded, "I'm good." I was a terrible liar, I knew that. But I didn't want to tell him.Especially him.

My wrists were killing me. I hoped the blood wouldn't seep through the sweatshirt I was wearing.

"You look like you're staring at a ghost, Em. What's going on?"

"Nothing, Zack. I'm fine. Just leave it alone." He sighed, seeming to give up. I felt bad that I snapped at him, because it was the last thing I wanted to do. But I didn't want to talk about it at the moment. Or ever.

I got up from my seat on the couch, heading up the stairs into my room. I needed to be alone for a while and not ruin everybody's mood. Not to mention the fact that I was feeling woozy, and I knew that sleeping would help.

"You haven't gotten any better at lying, y'know."

Of course he had to follow me. Why not, right?

"Zacky I don't want to talk about it. Please respect that," I muttered, turning around to look at him.

"You've been acting like this for almost two days now. I don't think I can let this go," he sighed. "Please just talk to me. You know you can tell me anything, Em."

"Not this. I'm sorry, but I'd rather not have you go to prison for murder."

"I'm not fucking around with th--" Zacky stopped, hearing the sound of my phone going off. He was closer to the nightstand it was sitting on than I was, so he got to it before I did.

~*~Zacky's POV~*~

"Hello?" I said into the phone as soon as I answered it. I didn't bother to check who the caller was.

"Well look who decided to answer their fucking phone." A voice said on the other end. It was a guy, most likely in his late 40s or so.

"Who is this?" I asked. The person went silent for a moment before hanging up. What the fuck?

I looked back at Emily's phone. From what it looked like, this wasn't the first time this person had called her. There was even a voicemail from the same number.

"Listen here, you little bitch. I know where you are. I will find you, mark my words. And you will be sorry. Sleep with one eye open, Emily. You can run, but you can't hide from daddy."

"...Emily, what the fuck?"

~*~Emily's POV~*~

Shit.

Shit shit shit shit shit.

"Is this what was going on? Why didn't you tell me?" He asked. He looked hurt. That was understandable.

"I told you why," I muttered. I didn't look at him, at least not with any eye contact. I knew he was angry.

And he's going to be even more angry when he finds out I cut, I thought. Well, that was the only thought that I could make out at the moment. Everything else was just a jumbled mess. My arms hurt, my head was spinning. Something was definitely wrong.

Before I knew it, I passed out, falling to the floor.

~*~

I woke up a while later to someone poking my nose. The sun was still shining through the windows, but it was starting to set.

"Jimmy, leave her alone. Let her rest," I heard Michelle say. The poking stopped and Jimmy let out a whine.

"I just want her to wake up!"

I opened my eyes and looked over to him. "It's alright Jimbo, I'm up," I said, half smiling. He grinned and gave me a hug, but it wasn't too bone-crushing, which I was thankful for. Almost everyone else was with us too, except for Zacky.

"You okay, sweetie?" Val asked. Michelle was next to her, seeming worried - same with Lacey and Leana. I nodded, sitting up a bit. I was on the couch in the living room. At first I didn't remember how I got there, or what had even happened. But after a moment, it hit me.

The phone call. Zacky found out. He heard it. I passed out, so he found out I cut. That means everyone else most likely knew, too. Oh shit.

As if things couldn't get much worse, Zacky walked in from the kitchen, sitting down in one of the end chairs. He looked upset and angry. For the most part, just angry.

"Well now that everyone's here," Matt started after a bit of silence, "what the fuck happened, Emily?"

"And why didn't you say anything? You know we could have handled this," Brian added. Everyone else nodded in agreement.

Zacky didn't move. I don't even think he was blinking. He just kept staring at the same spot on the wooden floor.

"I wanted to, I just... It scared me, okay? I didn't know what to do. I didn't want you guys having something happen to you because I know you'd find him, and fucking kill him. You guys shouldn't even have to deal with this shit," I told them. I could feel my eyes stinging from tears that tried to come out. But I couldn't cry, not in front of them at least.

Something snapped in Zacky's head, causing him to look up at me.

"Is that why you fucking cut yourself? Because he's tormenting you again? Dammit, Emily, you should have fucking said something! You know we could have helped you, every one of us!"

He was getting angrier by the second, and it scared the hell out of me.

"I--" I started, but was cut off.

"You what? You thought you could handle it?!" He yelled. "Well, newsflash, you can't. You can't fucking handle this on your own, in case that's not obvious enough. I can't fucking sit here and watch you try to kill yourself, Emily. I can't do it!" He shouted before getting up out of his seat, almost throwing the chair in the process. He headed back upstairs before anyone could say anything.

By this point I was a mess, shaking and sobbing. Val tried to soothe me by rubbing my back, but to no avail.

Meanwhile, everyone else had mixed reactions. Both Jimmy and Johnny looked confused about why Zacky snapped all of a sudden. Brian seemed annoyed; since he was next to Zacky, he almost had his ear drums blown out due to the screaming. Matt looked like he was ready to murder someone. And the girls looked concerned for my sake.

Zacky made his way through the hallway and back down to the living room, clutching something in his hand. "Can you guys leave the room for a minute? I need to speak to Emily alone," he growled, sitting on the couch next to me. I scooted away from him a bit, but I don't think he noticed.

Everybody filed out of the room, almost too soon. Matt was the last to leave, saying something to Zacky before he left. I couldn't make out what he said.

Zacky toyed with whatever he had in his hand, not saying anything. After a minute, I caught a glimpse of what he was holding.

It was one of the blades I had hidden in the bathroom.

"How did you find that?" I croaked.

"I saw you hide it a couple of nights ago. I realize that I should have taken it then, because look what happened," he muttered. I looked down in guilt. "I'm sorry, Emily. I just hate seeing you do this to yourself. It's fucking killing me."

"You think I like doing this?!" I snapped. Zacky jumped a bit and looked up at me. "You think I enjoy fucking cutting myself? You think I like having to do this just to fucking feel something? Well I don't, Zachary. I fucking don't. I hate it. I hate the pity. I hate having people look at me because I'm fucking crazy. I hate--"

I was soon interrupted by a pair of lips meeting mine. I couldn't think straight. My mind was going crazy, and this didn't help whatsoever.

But somehow I was managing to kiss him back.

"You are not crazy," he said as we broke apart. "So please don't ever say that you are."

"Well you two made up quick," Johnny said, startling us both. I could feel my cheeks getting red. He kissed me again, this time on the cheek, and I could feel him smirk as the girls all chimed in an "aww" while the guys whistled. So I assumed everyone else was watching, too.

So the only question was: What the fuck did this mean for us?

Notes