*SITS WITH HOLLYIERO HOLDING A GUN TO MY HEAD FORCING ME TO WRITE A HAPPY CHAPTER* SOOOOO AS YOU CAN TELL LAST CHAPTER GOT SOMEONE ALL UPSET *POINTS TO HOLLY* SO WITH A LITTLE 'INSPIRATION' I'M GONNA WRITE A HAPPY CHAPTER. ENJOY.
~PENNY~
I sat behind the drums pounding on them. It's been scary latel; I hated what I've become. It's not fair, it's not fair to be me. I just want someone to see that but no one sees me. Drum were the only way I could get heard. My cousins are somewhat popular. They embrassed the life of rockstar dads. I didn't want it. I hated it. I really did, honestly. I just want my dad to come home for more than a few weeks before leaving again.
I sat in the garage hitting the drums I've had since I was like five. My hair tied back as I wore a black tee shirt and ripped jeans and black converse that were ripped and tattered. My wrists and arms covered in gauz, leaving my Celtic charm bracelet hiden underneith the white bandages. The loud banging echoed in my head. I was only ten, what ten year old cuts themselves? Honestly? What ten year old should be in this much pain? I feel alone, it's scary and there is nothing I can do. My eyes caught my mom coming into the garage, looking beautiful as always. She never needs to think about how she looks, she looks amazing anyways. I'm jealous of her. I kept pelting the drums as she walked into the garage, she pulled and bucket out from the side and sat on it, watching me carefully. Her silence pulled me to a loud stop. The sound moved and faded away as I brushed my bangs from my face.
"Penny, what is really bothering you? Other than the moving and having this life?" She asked, her voice sounded nervous but calm and steady. She was trying to be brave for not just me but my brothers as well. But I knew better, she was dying inside seeing me this unhappy. I sighed and gripped the wooden sticks tightly. I knew the answer to that. I swallowed back my self pitty.
"If I don't fit in, in Jersey than I sure don't fit in with the Hollywood kids with their fancy cars and clothes. I'm already being teased for who my dad is and for what happened. I can't go somewhere fancy and be expected to fit in." My words even stung me. They were a harsh reality of why I hated having a rockstar dad. He's made fun of daily for being apart of an 'emo' band. My dad did go through a bad patch with drugs and alcohol but he's better now. Mom sighed heavily and nodded, gazing down into her lap before looking up at me.
"It's okay to not fit in. It's a good thing you have enimies." She has officially confused me. I pulled my eye brows together slightly, making a face.
"How?" She laughed and smiled widely causing even more confusion for me. Why was she laughing? What did she mean it was a good thing? I couldn't do anything but sit there and watch her.
"Sweetie, it means you stood up for yourself and for something you believe is right when everyone else doesn't. And part of the reason we're moving is so that you can have a restart. New house, new image. New friends and enimies." Mom said broadly. I smiled and nodded finally understanding she wasn't taking me from my friends because she hates me but she's giving me a new start to start over. Mom left the room and I began to hit my drums again, louder, faster, harder. Drums were what I loved. They made me feel awesome. Hitting each drum with a beat was awesome. No feeling can describe how much I love these things. Maybe when we move I'll be able to play drums for some bands? It'll be awesome.
