Quite a few of chapters are going to be background information, at least 4, but possibly more.
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“High fives, my brothers!” The three boys high-fived me as we all whooped. “Can someone get me a towel?” I fanned myself as sweat dripped down my body. Freddy, part of our crew, tossed me a towel. I chugged my water down as I took in my surroundings. There was Jared, the bass guy. Anthony, the guitar guy. And Drew, my drummer. The guy who found me dead.
Yes, dead. My suicide was a success, but the doctors were able to revive me. I was in a coma for 3 months. I woke up to 3 pairs of worried eyes staring at me. Complete strangers, yet they all said they instantly felt a connection to me. They felt pain when they saw me lying on my bed having a seizure as the pills took their toll on me. They found the empty pill bottle in my medicine cabinet while they called 911.
I became unresponsive in the ambulance.
They told me they heard me singing on the mixtape Max made for me. I forgot it was me on the last song. Instantly, they told me what they did and that they had been looking for a vocalist for a long time—specifically a female vocalist. They called it fate. And I was thinking of being six feet under the stars again. But I didn’t tell them about Alex or David or anything.
They wanted a heavier band, but I already knew how to do unclean vocals. So I showed them all the songs I wrote, and the rest is history. We were signed quickly to Fearless, and we did Warped that summer. My life had actually turned out to be going pretty well.
I trusted them so quickly, it scared me. It was like All Time Low all over again. And David all over again. Put I pushed those haunting thoughts out of my head as I numbly told them about Max, the guy who made me the mixtape. And my father, the one who would hit me and undress me. I told them about my parent’s addictions. I told them about my brother killing Max. They were the first people that I told why my brother killed Max.
A year before Max’s death, a girl who was underage, said she was raped at one of his parties. She said two of his friends undressed her, but he was the one to actually rape her. Somehow, he was never a suspect. On his phone, there were pictures of her—beat and undressed. Suddenly, I was tasting Jager in my mouth all over again, and feeling the burn on my cheek. I smashed the phone with a hammer. He didn’t even notice, which was strange.
And then, I would pick up the phone while he was on the other one, talking to his friends. He would tell them how wasted she was, and how big her boobs were. I would quietly hang up. She was in my grade, three years younger than my brother. I would see her—she looked so scared. She used to be loud. She used to talk. She used to smile. It reminded me so much of myself.
In October, three months after the incident, I went to the cops. I told them how I was so scared that I destroyed evidence. I just didn’t want to believe that my brother would do anything like that. He never even had a court date when my parents paid a shit ton of money for the police to just let go of it. It was quite easy, since they didn’t even have evidence.
So the next time he talked about her on the phone, I recorded it. He was convicted two days later. I got emancipated as soon as I turned sixteen, telling them how my parents were addicted to drugs and I would be better on my own. But that’s all I ever said. A couple months later, my brother was bailed out. And he broke into our house. Anna, his girlfriend at the time, held me down as my brother put a bullet into Max’s head. I’ve never felt so guilty before in my life. Both my parents and my brother roam the streets freely, like they never did terrible things to innocent people. It kills me inside, but doesn’t kill me enough to confess. After five years, the rape doesn’t matter anymore, they can’t go to jail for it.
This is my last year to spill my guts.
And I’m so scared.
I snapped out of my thoughts as people cheered and jumped around, going crazy. I tilted my head, confused. “What’s going on?” I asked. Drew rushed over to me and picked me up.
“We’re going on a tour again, and it’s huge!” My mouth opened wide in shock, as a smile began to grow on my face.
“Seriously? How many bands?”
“Five, counting us!” Holy shit. That is huge. But the best part is, they’re all opening for us.
“Who are they?”
“You Me At Six, Pierce The Veil, Mayday Parade, and All Time Low!”
My smile slowly faded.
