Punk Rock 101

Chapter 1: Chloe's Story

“MOM! Get off my case,” I yelled at her. I had just gotten a new piercing and she was hacked off at me. “YOU GOT A FREAKING TONGUE PIERCING! I TOLD YOU, STOP MESSING YOURSELF UP.” I wanted to cry. She never lets me do anything. I turned around and ran to my room. I was greeted by my various rock band posters. I scanned them. Bowling for Soup, Nirvana, Papa Roach, 30 Seconds to Mars, Smash Mouth, The Killers, and Three Days Grace.  I looked to the far left. There was my signed Avril Lavinge poster. It said “Hey Chloe! Hang in there! You’ll find your Sk8r Boi soon :) Love, Avril.” She was my idol and I had been to one of her concerts 2 years ago. I took of my sweater and looked at the newly fresh blood from the 3 tattoos I got earlier. I never told my mom. Why should I? She would just yell at me again.

                I walked over to my gigantic poster of The Ready Set. Dear God he’s hot… it’s kind of my dirty little secret. Being the mental ward escape that I am, I imagined a conversation with the poster.

“Jordan (A/N that’s the Ready Sets real name <3), what am I gonna do? My life totally sucks right now.”

Have you considered calling Jackie?

“That ho? I haven’t talked to her since she called me GOTH. Excuse me, but its called punk.”

It’s not her fault.

“Whatever, back to my situation. My mom totally hates me and my life is over if I show her my new tattoos. I already have 2, she would hate more.”

Let me see them.

 I showed “him” my new ink. The first one was Soy Sauce in Japanese on my wrist. The second was a sheet of music from “Love Like Woe” on my back.  The final one was a yin yang sign in red and blue. I imagined Jordan nodding in approval.

I love the one on your back. But you’re right; you can’t show them to your mom.

“I hate how she’s so harsh!”

She’s just like that because she loves you.

“Ugh we’re going to get like THAT?”

I’m just trying to help.

“Well say you’re sorry and that you love me.”

I’m sorry and I love you.

I smiled. “Good, that’s what I like to hear.”  

 I looked through my contacts. I looked at my texts to Jackie. I read the last one out loud. “I’m no Goth. I’m a punk. A PUNK ROCKER.” I yelled that part hoping my mom would hear. I jumped on my bed out of frustration. My head hit something really hard. I felt under my pillow and found a book. It didn’t have a title, so I opened it. A piece of paper fell out and landed on my leg. Naturally, I read it.

“To whom it may concern,

                Beware! This book possesses a certain type of magic. Not the Harry Potter kind, but one more modern.  Read with caution. The farther you get into the book, the worse your life may be. DO NOT READ THE FINAL CHANT.”

                I picked up the book again. It was velvet with gold lining. I opened it. Still no title. The first paragraph hooked me in. I couldn’t stop reading, literally.

                “Chloe Malone was born on January 24, 19 1994. She was a pretty girl without a care in the world…”

                I spent an hour on the book. It looked as if there were thousands of pages, all about…me. I reached page 204. The page right next to it was blank. Something inside me told me to read the final words of the book. I took a deep breath and began.

“How can I go on with life?

If my rocker title is all a lie?

My name is Chloe Malone

My title is not complete or fun

So let me begin my journey at

Punk Rock 101.”

                The last thing I remember was my essence liquefying and the smell of a new book.