On the origins of Andy Biersack/Six
I've always been fat. Too fat to live. I've always been told that I neeeded to make a change and lose weight. So why haven't I? There's no reason not to. I look like shit anyways. And it's not like I don't have the means to. I have the means to lose the weight I need to and more. The internet's full of resiources and info as it is. Just a few keystrokes and I'm in. Billions of results, just be searching how to lose weight. How could I not haver heard of this stuff before?
The simplest way seems to be to avoid eating, and to exercise like crazy to burn it twice as fast. I'm sick of being so fat, so what's the rise? The only thing I have to lose is the blubber.
2 weeks later: I've already lost like 6 pounds. As this rate, I'll be a perfect 0 in no time! But I almost never eat, and I'm always fucking starving.
4 weeks later: 15 pounds gone. I can finally see bones where before I just used to see fat. I should keep going. This diet is great! I never thought I'd be able to see my bones, cause they've a;ways been hiding below all the fat, but now that I see them...just WOW!
6 weeks later: I nearly a fainted a few days ago. It can't be because of the diets, can it? I mean, it's helping me so much, so it can't be doing anything to hurt me. It's like my perfect weapon. 20 pounds total gone. It's all just melting away. I don't get picked on nearly half as often anymore. That's proof right there that being skinny is the quickest way to happiness.
2 months later: I've started to lost faster and faster. I think even my parents noticed. My mother asked if I was earing ok. No matter how much I exercise, I never seem to gain any muscle mass. Maybe it'll all work out in the end.
3 months later: I've had a few fainting spells, but I've lost enough to excuse it. Nearly a quarter of my total starting weight. I had to go shopping for new clothes as a result, and I'm glad to say that I'm no longer in such a huge size anymore. Just to think about it I feel joy. But I know there's so much more to go.
6 months later: I'm nearly a skeleton now, but it's all for the best. People have taken notice. The bullying's stopped. Girls are becoming attracted to me. Finally! But I know that if I start eating normally again, all that weight is going to come back with extra. Maybe if I find the perfect balance, then I can say goodbye to both my overweight self and fainting.
8 months later: Even with starting to eat the minimum I need to ever day, I've been found out. I thought i was so fucking careful, yet I somehow managed to have my secret, my perfect weapon, my savior, discovered. I was told by my parents that I'm going to be going away for a few months. I won't survive being fat again. I refuse to let it happen. I see only one way out of this.
10 years later:After years of anorexia, a dozen or more suicide attempts, about twice as many residential stays in facilities, and twice as many stays in crisis stabilization units as well as countless hospital stays, guess what? I'm still Andy fuckin' Six, still perfectly skeletal, but above all, I'm still alive.