The Real One (Sequel to Her Only Wish)

Music Heals Better Than People

Hey, this is the Nightcore version, it's faster than the original version of the song, so if you want to hear the real one you have to do it on youtube or spotify.
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          I know that from the moment I had cut myself for the first time, I became distant. I tried to stay away from my parents, my sister and my friends. I didn't want them to see what I had done.

          I had no problem looking at my wrist or showing it to the world. I just didn't want my friends to pity me or be sad that I would do such a thing, I didn't want to stop, it felt good, in a twisted and morbid way, but it did.

          Some days after, we had our first break, which lasted a week. Monday and Tuesday, I just laid on the couch watching Supernatural, The 100 or Merlin, I can't remember. Wednesday, I went to a friend's house, Flocon, you might know her as Flo or FloconTheSnow , we had fun, we watched a TV show called 'Jérémie'. Then, I left. Thursday, I didn't do much either.

          When Friday came, I wanted to do something. It was around ten when I called my mom. I asked her if we could meet up at the mall for lunch and go eat something together. We met up, we ate, we laughed and, of course, she had to get back to work. So, she gave me money and told me to be home before dark, which of course was before 16:30 (thanks again Quebec for being in the North).

          That day, I didn't buy much. I bought 5 Seconds Of Summer's new album and four bandanas. I bought the bandanas because I was tired of wearing long sleeved shirts. I got hone it was around three, I went downstairs and played the album. I had already listened to most of them because of Flocon, but Jet Black Heart and Broken Home hit me (for the 3rd time) like the truck hit Sam, Dean, their dad and Baby.

          I ran to to the bathroom, pulled out my scissors and tried to cut, but I looked in the mirror and saw my tears, the tears I hadn't realized were there until I saw them, transparent, wet, salty. They had smudged my cheap mascara a little bit. And I'm not completely sure what happened, but that's what I know : I looked in my eyes and saw how broken I was, like the home, I saw how black my pupils were, like the heart.

          That day I had learned that hurting myself was not the only way.
          That day I had learned that there were other ways.
          That day I had realized that music, to me and so many people, had been there for me all my life and had helped me through so many things :
          The day Josh, my first boyfriend, moved away.
          The day I had to leave Fanny, Meagan and Sarra, my sixth grade bestfriends.
          The day of the ball for the sixth graders.
          The day my crush gave me a hug.
          The first time I had been friendzoned.
          The second time I had been friendzoned.
          That day in kindergarten when I fell, hurt my knee and cried my eyes out.
          That day when I had given up on myself.

          I remembered that on all of those days, music was there. My mom's singing, my dad's screeching to Metallica or Iron Maiden, my sister dancing to Hilary Duff or Black Eye Peas, or simply the music in the room, from the cars in the streets.

          That day, I took my scissors, I put them in my case and I made the decision that helped me the most so far in my life.