Remember The Day? (Bronnor/The Vamps)

Page Seven

I wrote this page for you, dear Brad.

I'm scared of fading away, scared of everything. I'm just scared. I'm scared of getting to know you. Maybe I don't know you but I know a lot about your life that it frightens me to even think that there are people out there like you with so much pain in their hearts. There's something that makes you different from the rest, yes, there is, and that thing is you being kind to everybody.

Your heart is broken and I know it, don't try to deny it. I know it because if mine once broke, then yours should be too.

Would you believe me if I say that you're stronger than me? Believe me, Brad. How can you even survive? This world is so fucked up just like every person in this world. Like me. I always knew that your father was kicking the shit out of you and never said anything to anyone. I could hear everything. The screams for help, YOUR screams. Those screams that sent chills through my body. Screams that lasted all night.

Forgive me for never helping. I know that I was wrong by doing nothing but believe me, I was scared. Just like you.

Heard the things crashing into the walls or the ground, or wherever they would fall into.

Saw when you left home one night. You ran out of your house heading somewhere. Clearly, it was somewhere far away from your house because your father was chasing you but I think he didn't get to you.

One day at school, a teacher asked you if you were okay or needed help but you yelled at her. That was when you walked out of the classroom and I saw that you got a black eye. I knew who caused it. I knew the truth.

Once again, we were asked to bring our parents to participate with us 'cause it would be part of our final grade. Everybody didn't like that idea because we were not that young anymore. We were fifteen and obviously, our teacher was insane. What hurt me the most was the 'conversation' you and the teacher had in front of everyone...

"Am I going to fail or will you pass me already?"

"Mr. Simpson, if you don't collaborate, you will fail. That's for sure."

"Well, who am I supposed to bring? The dog that lives in that colorless house in front of mine? Or should I bring your father?"

"Watch your mouth, young man, but you should know..."

"All right, keep talking but I've got something to tell before you go any further with this no sense conversation. You should know that I'm the luckiest person in this world. Why am I the luckiest person in this world? Do you have a mother?"

"Yeah, I do have one."

"A father?"

"Course I have one."

"Do you have any brother? A sister? Any of them?"

"Got a brother and a sister. What's the point of this conversation anyway, Simpson?"

"Well, that makes you lucky! You have a family! I don't! I don't have anyone. My parents died. I don't have anyone! That's why you're lucky, I'm not!!!"

After that, you stormed out of the classroom and she passed you right after what you said. She talked to the principal and they agreed on passing you with an A+. That's why you also got mad. Because everyone felt pity for you. But I never felt it. Actually, I felt like you needed a shoulder to cry on. Like you deserved all the love in the world because that was what you always did. You gave love to everyone and you always found a way to make them happy after the hard times people got you in like people rejecting you, that kind of bullying that I think is the worst out of them all, the fact of being ignored by the rest, being invisible to them all, they knew you were there but did the same I did... nothing, but with the only difference that I was afraid, not like the rest that gave up on you and that would never try again to get to know you.

I wish I could have done that.

Brad, I'm sorry for never doing nothing but I hope you're good now. Well, I think you are now in another place far away from here. Far away from me, very far away.