You can Choke on your Misery (All Time Low)

I stepped out of the public shower house, silently cursing myself for stealing that girls soap, having to hear her rant on about how she had it a second ago and threatening to call the police, and then having her complain that her small pocket sized perfume was gone too. I took that too.

 I ran. Down the street and back to my usual alley. Knowing no one was waiting for me, knowing I wasn’t going anywhere in life and today was just like the others except I got to shower today. That’s a perk.

A year ago today, I was probably walking these same streets with my closest friends having the times of our lives, going to concerts, getting band merch, meeting bands, going to the mall going to school sport games. You get it, I had the best life ever, until according to face book, I dropped off the face of the earth, I died in a car crash, I committed suicide, I went to jail for life, I got pregnant and moved to jersey with my (nonexistent) boyfriend. I jumped off a building as a prank and died. I got eaten by bear. The list goes on, there all not true, if they were I wouldn’t be running down this street.

I disappeared to everyone at school, not my family. Times were tough and we were kicked out of our house, having to live on the streets. Trying so hard to live. We still had a car, until that ran out of gas, everyday mom and dad would leave me alone to go to work just so we could get food and maybe a shower. And one day, they never came back. I don’t know if they died or what, but that was almost a month after we were kicked on the streets.

This alley, I live in. alone. At all times of years, and hide in. I haven’t seen one person from school in the last year and I plan on keeping it that way. I don’t want the preps (people who think there better than everyone else) or even my friends to see me like this.

I’m only 17. I should be in school right now. But I’m not. I’m fending for my life, on edge 24/7. I shower once a week and eat if I’m lucky once a week. It’s hard. It’s difficult. I tried so many times to just end it all, running out in front of cars, they all swerve and miss; Jumping off buildings, the police find me and take me off, or the people who own it won’t let me in cause I smell; shooting myself, the gun has no bullets. Shall I go on? It’s like the world wants me to suffer! I hate it. I hate living, why won’t it let me die? The world would be better off without me.

When I got back to the alley I sat behind the dumpster and pulled out the bottle of perfume, wondering what would happen if I chugged it. Instead I squirted some on me to see what it smelt like. Deciding I liked the smell I stuffed it back into the jeans I had been wearing for months. Gross right? I can’t help it when these are the only clothes I have.

I climbed out from behind the dumpster and put up my hood, it being cold out and hoping no one would recognize me as I walked down the street to the music store, I loved music and the only way I got to listen to it was because the guy who owns the store usually sits by a window in his office smoking , and blaring punk rock, heavy metal music. He has good taste in music. I usually sat off under the window and listened to it. The guy had no clue I was there every day and I was happy he didn’t.  

When I got there I sat down noticing his window was closed for once. Hoping he would open it I waited. I crossed my legs, then opened them again, stretching them out and shuffling them across the ground making a scratching noise on the pavement with my worn out converse. Then pulled my knees up to my head and put my arms around them, laying my head on top. The window opened, with a loud grunt.

The music started minutes after and the guy’s first cigarette was smashed and thrown out the window to the ground. That’s why I don’t sit under the window, I made the mistake once and ended up with it in my hair, and I smelled like it forever. I tapped my foot lightly to the music and sang along to the song I barely remembered, it was old.

The song ended and a new song came on, one I’ve never heard before. It was slow in the beginning then bam! The song picked up and the longer the song went on the more I realized that is was about someone dying. The singer was amazing and I just loved everything about his voice.

By the ending I was already singing it. “Sing me too sleep, Sing me too sleep, sing me too sleep” I rocking back and forth The song came to an end and I rested my head on my knees waiting for the song to change but instead I heard the guy on the radio. “And that was All Time Low with their song from there album ‘The Party Scene’, the song Called Lullabies. By the way there new album So Wrong its Right comes out in just 3 days, so get ready Hustlers”

I furrowed my eye brows. A tear escaping my eye, I reached up and wiped my face, just now noticing I was crying. That song made me cry.  

I wanted there cd’s they sounded like a band I would love, but ‘hustlers’? That’s what their fans call themselves? I lifted my head and stretched out my legs, standing up and then making my way out of the alley, raising my hoodie over my head. “ Hey! What are you doing in my alley!” my head whipped around and my eyes wide. I had forgotten about the man. He held a new cigarette in his hand and a frown.

“I- I” I couldn’t find my voice. My legs felt like jelly. “get out of here before I call the cops on you for trespassing!” he shouted angrily his face turning a weird shade of red and purple mixed. A vain popping out on the right side of his head.

My feet started to work and I ran out of the alley way and back onto the side walk, the busy streets, almost getting run over by a few kids I remember from school in my grade, riding bikes.

“dude that girl looks like that chick who died or something!” one shouted. “dude your seeing shit, she committed suicide like a year ago” one called to him. “nah she died In a car crash” the other stated. I zoned them out and continued walking. Planning on going back to my alley.

When I arrived I sat down behind the dumpster. You would think it would smell horrible, but im so used to it, I never smell it. I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. My mind being pulled into deep thought.

How and where was I going to get the money to buy the CD’s? What was I going to play them with? Where was I going to play them? Well I need to get them first.

What do you do when your homeless, everyone you know thinks you’re dead, you have no money, and nowhere to go for help and you want a couple CD’s?

Exactly. I don’t know either.

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