Bonnie Çade Williams and Frank Iero meet. Rated for language, I guess.
Silence took over and the images cut off. The television buzzed. The humidity was astonishing, and I hadn’t become used to it yet; New Jersey was proving to be too overwhelming for a certain British girl. I kicked off my bed covers and stretched, easing all of the pains in my shoulders. I thought being in a new country would refresh me, but it only made me more irritated than I was normally.
I got downstairs and my Mum proceeded to give me a lecture about not getting into trouble and stuff. I didn’t listen to half of it, though; it wouldn’t change how I was. I got back up stairs as soon as I could escape and went straight to brush my hair, my teeth and wash my face. I then put on a thin layer of pale foundation and dusted some baby powder over the top. Eyeliner and mascara was applied before I turned to my wardrobe and grabbed a black Misfits vest, some dark denim shorts, a black leather jacket (with the sleeves rolled up, as always) and some loose, bright red Doc Martens.
I took one last look at myself in the mirror before asking a million questions:
They’re going to hate me, aren’t they? Not like I cared, but it’s never nice to walk around the halls whilst you know that people are silently judging you; part of me feels like hitting them…beating them to a pulp. A shriveling mess on the floor: ‘till they can’t stand; ‘till they need to visit a hospital; ‘till they fucking drop dead.
I don’t understand how I’d become such an angry person… I know how it feels to be hurt, both mentally and physically. But if I truly knew how bad it felt, why did I seem to hurt people all the time?
Honestly, I wish I didn’t have to go. I wish that it was legal to stay home when I’m meant to be at school and I wish my mother wouldn’t go to jail for it. But no, freedom isn’t an option. I didn’t want o have to go, but I did, so I wasted no more time dwelling and I ran out the door, away from my mother without saying goodbye; the last thing I wanted was her taking me there and worrying.
My homeroom was in the west wing on the school. It was an art room and our tutor was Miss. Fehn. I opened the door hesitantly and the whole room turned to face me. Great, attention; just what I need.
“Ooh, new student!” The teacher beamed. She seemed nice enough. “Come and introduce yourself to everybody!”
I stood rooted to the spot for a second or two, but I didn’t bother refusing; I’d rather get everything over with.
“I-I’m Bonnie Williams…I’m 15. I was excluded from my old school for fighting and my Dad was released from jail in Sheffield so we had to move here. I like Avenged Sevenfold, VersaEmerge and The Misfits and that’s really all you need to know.” And that’s when everybody started judging me. In their heads, obviously – none of them had the guts to say it to my face – but I could hear it.
What IS she wearing? Oh my, she looks like a corpse!
PFFT! She won’t last here; she’ll have a breakdown soon.
But secretly, it as me saying all of those things to myself.
“Great! Well, you can pull up a seat next to Frank…over there with the black Mohawk.”
I looked over to where she had pointed. A boy drown in a huge black hoodie, which was clearly oversized. I pulled out a stool at the end of the table and pulled my bag onto my knees and opened it up to root around for my white marker pen. I'd bought a plain black bag before getting on the plane and though I could decorate it myself. I put the lid onto the opposite end and chewed on it whilst I thought of what to do. Which lyrics should I write? What should I draw? To think that I couldn't decide now but if I hadn't been given the situation then I would've a had a flood of ideas. I started writing the first lyrics that came to my head:
I've been searching
I've been living
For tomorrows, all my life
I then proceeded to draw a sugar skull and stars and some odd Avenged Sevenfold and Murderdolls lyrics. Homeroom had proven to be the most boring thing that had happened since stepping off the terminals two weeks ago. Come to think of it, I hadn't looked at what lesson I had first. I took my timetable from my pocket and scanned the list in a desperate attempt to learn it all. I remembered: Music, Biology and double Maths. Wonderful, right?
I felt eyes looking over at me. Scratch that, staring; it was as if whoever was looking at me wanted my attention but happened to be too scared to speak. Sounded like me a lot of the time. I was so scared that people would judge me. Maybe because I couldn't speak without repeating my self and stuttering. Maybe because I didn't like what they liked. Maybe because they just has a certain disliking towards me. I didn't look up at who was looking at me, I just crumpled up the paper in my pocket and stuffed the marker back into my bag after admiring my handy work. Miss. Fehn carried on for a good 10 minuets then the bell went and I think I was one of the first to get up from my seat and leave the room. I had to get away from the people staring, at least in music it wouldn't be the same people.
The music room was just down a small corridor near the art room. It was rather secluded, definitely a place I'd consider escaping to at lunch.
I arrived in the class and the teacher was jumping about and yelling. I'd always loved music, I could play piano and sing so I'd be good in at least one class.
"Hello, class, it's nice to see you all again! And a new face. Bonnie...Kay-dee... Williams!" He said. I had to intervene; it always annoyed me when people said my name wrong.
"Bonnie S'day Williams, sir...it means pure." Oh, the irony, I was far from pure. He apologised and commenced with the 10 minuet mini-lesson then set up on task:
"I want you to pair up with a peer, and I want you to find a song you both like. It can be any style by any artist and I'd like you do create your own version." I sat in my seat for a minuet, hoping that somebody would be nice enough to ask me to be their partner. Fortunately and unfortunately, nobody picked me so I scanned the room for an open space when I saw Frank sat in his seat on his own. He sat twiddling his thumbs as if he was waiting as well.
"Um...hi Frank. D-do you want to, uh...work together?" I asked nervously. He looked up with his heavy lidded, russet coloured and smiled slightly. "Yeah, sure."
"Well, um, it depends what you like, really...I can sing quite well, I guess."
"How about...Figure It Out...by VersaEmerge?" He placed his fingers in a confusing looking chords and plucked down on the strings.
"Yeah, I can do that." I smiled.
At least I could get along with somebody here, all I made was enemies at my old school. All because I stood up for myself to Bobby Aroway. The bitch shouldn't try to scratch my eyes out. And when I say 'stood up for' I mean shove her against a wall and beat to a quivering mess. I was put on a tag for a month and when I came back to school (still on probation) I have literally the whole school spitting at me and shit. I carried on to sing the words of the song with precision, not missing a note, not getting a word wrong; it was practically a perfect piece. Obviously I needed to practice; I was used to belting the whole song so I had to get used to singing more softly in places. Frank was really great at playing guitar, too. I loved watching his fingers glide over each string delicately, creating a different yet almost angelic sound each time. I'd always loved the sound of guitars but somehow, the way Frank played made it seem so much prettier. What made it even better was that all the chords were exactly right, which made it so much easier to sing.
The song came to a close, Frank played the last chord and I sung the last word, and then came the uncomfortable silence.
"You-you're great! Wow, I didn't expect you to be that good!" He beamed.
"I could say the same for you!! I've never seen somebody play guitar like that in person! Well...apart from Blake himself, of course." I said matter of a factly.
Frank jaw dropped immediately. "You've seen VersaEmerge?"
"Yeah, they cam to Download Festival a couple of months ago!"
He looked at me skeptically then narrowed his eyes. "You didn't, you're lying!"
And this argument went on right up until the bell went. Frank came to the door behind me.
"Hey, guess what?" I whispered.
He leaned in slightly. "What?" He grinned.
"DID!" and I ran through the hall into the canteen I'd previously walked through to get into the school.
Sorry if there are really retarded mistakes, feel free to correct any for me. R&R and I'll......I don't know what I'll do.