Too Pretty For Scars, chapter 1
"I hate you!" I screamed at Mom and Dad, "You never let me be myself! You make me a poser! Why can't I just be the person I really am?"
"Look at you!" Mom said sadly, "Ripped tight jeans, black Vans, a ripped, fitted Green Day tank top that is so low cut I can see half your chest, black hair and so much black eyeliner you look dead! You were naturally beautiful, green eyes, blonde hair, and pale skin. Why did you have to go all "punk" on us? You were so sweet before!"
"Mom! You don't understand! This is me! This is my heart! I'm fucking 19! I can just leave if you hate me this much!"
"Watch your language! Leaving is the last thing we want you to do. You'll get raped or something. Whatever made you think we hated you?" Dad yelled back.
"I won't get raped! Damn, why would I think you hate me? Not because you lock me up. Not because you don't trust me. Not because you yell at every little thing I do..."
"We don't trust you because you gave us reasons to not trust you. You cut yourself, you dye your hair black, and you smoke joints... the list goes on and on."
"Well, I'll be out of your way in 20 minutes." I said rushing to my room and locking the door. I grabbed my duffel bag and began to pack. First, I grabbed my CD player and Ramones and Green Day CDs. I made sure to bring extra batteries. I slipped a piece of broken glass into my pocket. My parents had taken all my razors but they couldn't keep me from cutting myself silly. I packed my band shirts and my seven sticks of eyeliner. I snuck into Mom and Dad's room and took their envelope of money. Last I checked, it had around $200 in it. I went back to my room and grabbed my cell and it's charger. I rolled up my Ramones posters and single Green Day poster and put them carefully in the bottom. Then I quietly opened my window, popped out the screen, and jumped out. Then I was on my way.
I ran until I was at least three or four miles away. I figured if they couldn't see me from our property, they wouldn't bother chasing after me. They sure as hell weren't going to come looking for me. I slowed down to a walk and began looking for a place to stay for the night. I would've stayed with Candace, but she moved to New York four months ago and left me here in Berkley alone. I cursed her out as I walked down the street. Then I realized something; I left my box of joints under my bed. As soon as they found that, I was done. They'd have the guts to call the police about it. Then I'd be dead meat.
I sighed and turned around. I ran back to that house as fast as possible. I found my room and window untouched. I left my bag outside and quickly slid in the window. I reached under my bed and grabbed the box. Then I was on my way again. As I ran, I fumbled to get the box into my bag. I found what seemed to be an empty alley and decided to stay there for the night. Although it wasn't the safest place, where would be? I knew I could defend myself if I needed to. I leaned back against the wall and sighed. I was scared. I didn't want to admit it to myself, but I was really, truly scared of being alone. I was rebellious and strong because I knew if I failed my parents would catch me and forgive me. Now where could I run to?
I reached deep into my pocket and pulled out the shattered piece of glass. I closed my eyes as I felt the cold on my skin. I bit my lip and pressed down feeling a tingle of pain where the cold once was. My blood was warm and I could feel it run down my arm to my elbow. I searched my bag for a tissue and, luckily, found one. I wiped up the blood and applied pressure to the fresh wound. I smiled in satisfaction as the bleeding subsided. I tossed the tissue aside and finally gave up on being tough. I let the tears fall rapidly down my cheeks. They spattered my jeans and the surrounding concrete. I felt my whole body rack with sobs.
I pulled out a joint and lit it up. I sat there and watched the smoke rise up into the evening sky. Of course I was relaxed, but that would only last as long as the joint. Stars were starting to appear, as it grew darker outside. I put out the end of the joint and threw it across the alley. I knew I wouldn't last long on my own. I either had to go back home or face death and pain. I put my head down on my knees and sighed. I had to make a decision soon.
"A pretty girl like you shouldn't be alone in an alley." a raspy, male voice said. It sounded familiar but I couldn't put my finger on it. I was too scare to look up and see whom it was.
"I... don't have anywhere else to go..." I cried.
"Why don't you come with me? Worst comes to worst, I'll get you a hotel room tonight. If you don't trust me," he said. God dammit, I knew that voice!
"Who are you?" I asked timidly.
"Holy fuck! You don't know who I am? Look at me, maybe then you'll recognize me! Or at least, look at your shirt for help!"
Green Day? I knew it wasn't one of them. Maybe the hint was subtler. I looked up to see the bluest eyes ever and a mop of green hair. My eyes got extremely wide, "Holy shit! You're Tre Cool!" I screeched.
"The one and only." he said grinning.
"Look at you!" Mom said sadly, "Ripped tight jeans, black Vans, a ripped, fitted Green Day tank top that is so low cut I can see half your chest, black hair and so much black eyeliner you look dead! You were naturally beautiful, green eyes, blonde hair, and pale skin. Why did you have to go all "punk" on us? You were so sweet before!"
"Mom! You don't understand! This is me! This is my heart! I'm fucking 19! I can just leave if you hate me this much!"
"Watch your language! Leaving is the last thing we want you to do. You'll get raped or something. Whatever made you think we hated you?" Dad yelled back.
"I won't get raped! Damn, why would I think you hate me? Not because you lock me up. Not because you don't trust me. Not because you yell at every little thing I do..."
"We don't trust you because you gave us reasons to not trust you. You cut yourself, you dye your hair black, and you smoke joints... the list goes on and on."
"Well, I'll be out of your way in 20 minutes." I said rushing to my room and locking the door. I grabbed my duffel bag and began to pack. First, I grabbed my CD player and Ramones and Green Day CDs. I made sure to bring extra batteries. I slipped a piece of broken glass into my pocket. My parents had taken all my razors but they couldn't keep me from cutting myself silly. I packed my band shirts and my seven sticks of eyeliner. I snuck into Mom and Dad's room and took their envelope of money. Last I checked, it had around $200 in it. I went back to my room and grabbed my cell and it's charger. I rolled up my Ramones posters and single Green Day poster and put them carefully in the bottom. Then I quietly opened my window, popped out the screen, and jumped out. Then I was on my way.
I ran until I was at least three or four miles away. I figured if they couldn't see me from our property, they wouldn't bother chasing after me. They sure as hell weren't going to come looking for me. I slowed down to a walk and began looking for a place to stay for the night. I would've stayed with Candace, but she moved to New York four months ago and left me here in Berkley alone. I cursed her out as I walked down the street. Then I realized something; I left my box of joints under my bed. As soon as they found that, I was done. They'd have the guts to call the police about it. Then I'd be dead meat.
I sighed and turned around. I ran back to that house as fast as possible. I found my room and window untouched. I left my bag outside and quickly slid in the window. I reached under my bed and grabbed the box. Then I was on my way again. As I ran, I fumbled to get the box into my bag. I found what seemed to be an empty alley and decided to stay there for the night. Although it wasn't the safest place, where would be? I knew I could defend myself if I needed to. I leaned back against the wall and sighed. I was scared. I didn't want to admit it to myself, but I was really, truly scared of being alone. I was rebellious and strong because I knew if I failed my parents would catch me and forgive me. Now where could I run to?
I reached deep into my pocket and pulled out the shattered piece of glass. I closed my eyes as I felt the cold on my skin. I bit my lip and pressed down feeling a tingle of pain where the cold once was. My blood was warm and I could feel it run down my arm to my elbow. I searched my bag for a tissue and, luckily, found one. I wiped up the blood and applied pressure to the fresh wound. I smiled in satisfaction as the bleeding subsided. I tossed the tissue aside and finally gave up on being tough. I let the tears fall rapidly down my cheeks. They spattered my jeans and the surrounding concrete. I felt my whole body rack with sobs.
I pulled out a joint and lit it up. I sat there and watched the smoke rise up into the evening sky. Of course I was relaxed, but that would only last as long as the joint. Stars were starting to appear, as it grew darker outside. I put out the end of the joint and threw it across the alley. I knew I wouldn't last long on my own. I either had to go back home or face death and pain. I put my head down on my knees and sighed. I had to make a decision soon.
"A pretty girl like you shouldn't be alone in an alley." a raspy, male voice said. It sounded familiar but I couldn't put my finger on it. I was too scare to look up and see whom it was.
"I... don't have anywhere else to go..." I cried.
"Why don't you come with me? Worst comes to worst, I'll get you a hotel room tonight. If you don't trust me," he said. God dammit, I knew that voice!
"Who are you?" I asked timidly.
"Holy fuck! You don't know who I am? Look at me, maybe then you'll recognize me! Or at least, look at your shirt for help!"
Green Day? I knew it wasn't one of them. Maybe the hint was subtler. I looked up to see the bluest eyes ever and a mop of green hair. My eyes got extremely wide, "Holy shit! You're Tre Cool!" I screeched.
"The one and only." he said grinning.
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