“Make a wish on our sorry little hearts/Have a smoke, pour a drink, steal a kiss in the dark/Fingernails on my skin like the teeth of a shark/I'm intoxicated by the lie” I mumbled the lyrics to Love Like War by All Time Low. I spun around hearing the sound of footsteps, cliche I know, but I needed to get home soon before my mom realized I wasn’t. I walked down the dark alley; I was in such a good mood. I mean it’s not every day you get to see three of your favorite bands in concert; Pierce The Veil, Sleeping With Sirens, and All Time Low. I even got to meet Alex Gaskarth, Kellin Quinn, and Vic Fuentes! That is not an everyday occurrence.
The only problem was that I was supposed to be home. My mom had forbid me from going to the concert, because she didn’t like the person I was becoming. I stopped wearing pink and started to wear more black. My finger nails are no longer blue, but instead black. I got in trouble all the time for what I wore. My mom got extremely pissed when I died my hair black. “Hey, pretty lady,” slurred a voice behind me. I turned around and looked the man in the face. “Why don’t you let me show you a good time?” asked the man reaching out and running his fingers through my hair.
“Don’t touch me,” I mumbled my heart racing. The man grabbed a hold of my wrist and spun me to make me look into his eyes. I winced at the pain that shot through my arm. His eyes were a piercing grey that scared me, so I looked away. I could smell the whiskey on his breath and it made me gag.
“Imma teach you some manners, little girl,” he said pushing me up against the wall. I closed my eyes knowing what was about to happen, but it never came. I heard a thud, and I slowly opened my eyes. I saw the man on the floor and a boy standing over him. The boy looked up at me with concern.
“Are you okay?” asked the boy. I slowly nodded, and he walked up to me. He had snake bites and hair as black as the shadows in the alleyway. His eyes were a beautiful blue ocean and his skin was like the clouds surrounding the ocean, pale but still beautiful. “My name’s Izaiah,” he said holding out his hand. I shook it, but then quickly shoved my hand into my pocket. Gripping the pocket knife I had forgotten about. The last thing my dad had given me before he died of a car accident.
“My name’s Angel, but now in days my mom calls me the devil and locks me in my room to hide me from the world,” I said, my voice working into a mumble towards the end.
“That’s sad,” said Izaiah, “You’re much to pretty to be called devil, and I think Angel is much more suited.” At that I blushed looking at the ground. He chuckled and I turned redder. “Now that’s adorable,” he said, and I turned even redder.
“I have to go,” I said. Izaiah nodded and held his hand out.
“It was nice to meet you,” he said as we shook hands.
“You too,” I said taking back my hand. “Maybe I’ll see you around,” I said walking away.
I was full of terror for what awaited me at home. Wait, no, this isn’t home. Home is where you’re welcomed with open arms and not shunned for being different. This was just where I lived, diffidently not what I called my home. I walked into the house and took a look around and found my mom on the couch.
“Where have you been?” asked my mother. I looked at the ground, “Don’t ignore me you worthless slut!” She yelled walking up to me and pushing my face up to meet hers. She then slapped me causing me to fall to the floor. “Go to your room!” she bellowed. I got up and stumbled my way to my room. I cried myself to sleep, just waiting for tomorrow to come, knowing that it was only worst. Tomorrow was the first day of school, which meant the first day back to hell for me.
Life wasn’t always like this for me. When dad was around I was all popular and stuff. Then he died and in my grieving I discovered bands like Pierce the Veil and Of Mice & Men. Life took on a whole new meaning. I could connect to these people, next thing I know I’m throwing away my closet, along with my mother’s respect for me and a whole ton of friends, and I’m stocking up on band tee shirts, skinny jeans, and converse.
