Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Moments Between Sleep
Unhearted
2 ReviewsArt was one of the very little thing to bring me comfort in life.
Moments Between Sleep
Okay this is kind of short, I couldn't think of a good way to end it before it went on for ages, Gerard hasn't come in yet but I'll bring him in next time :)
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Unhearted
Art was one the very little things to bring me comfort in my life. I remember when my sister bought me a digital camera for my twelfth birthday. That camera became my world, I wouldn't leave the house without it. Art had been a passion of mine since I was a small child so I loved exploring the world of creativity through a lens. After moving to Bellville I still kept my camera close with me at all times. It reminded me of Natasha and it made me feel close to her spirit in a way as I knew she loved art as much as me. I would often visit the Belleville cemetery to take photos. For an odd reason I found cemeterys beautiful. I fell in love with the sense a church ground held, the different carved tomb stones and the statues, the way memorial transcriptions had been etched into the stone to forever remember a loved one. I longed to visit Natasha's grave one day back in Arizona. I wanted to capture an image of her grave to take back to Belleville for when I missed her and needed her. However I knew I wasn't strong enough to see my sister again. I wouldn't be able to handle the guilt any stronger than it already was, so I would have to wait.
After an hour or so of hiding in the girl's bathroom it soon became the last session of the day and I decided to drag myself to my art class. Even though I was intelligent I did not do well in my Freshmen years, which meant I still had to take required subjects such as math and science so I was thankful when at least I was able to attend art.
I liked to sit right at the back of the room so I could study alone and in depth. As expected I didn't really speak to anyone in my class unless they spoke to me. Like everywhere in Belleville High the students seemed to be separated into groups across the room; there were the pretty, popular people, the average people, the studious people, the people who would be considered as freaks and then there was me - the freak of all freaks.
Every morning I would stare at myself in the mirror and wonder why I had to live a ruined life. I had long, dark hair which turned chestnut at it's tips. I never bothered to brush it so it settled in messy waves around my face. My skin pale but not deathly, against the flesh of my nose lay a double piercing and I had placed a taper in my left ear. My eyes an ocean green colour and my body slender, I would have appeared as an average teenage female. Before the blonde haired man came along I had been one of the pretty, popular people. I was a normal young girl. On the outside I still looked like that normal girl, but the way I could scream at the top of my lungs without a warning made me a creep. Because of the way I hardly ever uttered a word to most people and because of my disgusting life style. All of this gave my class mates reason to illuminate me, which wasn't a problem on my account. The problem was that when they were bored I became their play thing. They gave me un-wanted attention.
At half past three the bell finally rang to signal that it was time to go home. I packed away my belongings slowly as to avoid the people on my way out of school but as soon as I stepped foot outside I was met by Terry Koop and a couple of her minions. Terry was a bitch and she along with many others often waited after lessons and around corners for me to come their way. Terry pressed her stick like body up against mine until I became sandwiched between her and the brick walling, her hard grey eyes narrowed as her blonde hair poured in front of her face and whisped across my own. "I head you fucked Jason the other night." She spat, curling her pink lips into a smirk. Jason was one of the few people who accepted me and one of the few I actually felt like spending time with. We'd get wasted on a regular basis and I'd been with him only twice, but Jason was friendly with nearly everyone at school which must have been how Terry found out. It didn't matter to me though.
"What's it to you?"
"Jason's a mate."
I rolled my eyes as I shoved Terry away but she only cornered me again and pinched my face between her tanned fingers.
"You're such a pretty little thing." She said. "If only you weren't such a fuck up."
I sighed, feeling bored of the same re-formed insult. "Look, just punch me or whatever and get it over with Terry, you know the drill." She laughed and let me go. "I'm not going to do it if you tell me to, go home and get some sleep, you look terrible." Without hesitation I started to walk away. "But don't forget to grow up Chloe!" She shouted after me. "You're a senior now and you shouldn't still be scared of the monsters under your bed!" I frowned at the cruel reference Terry used for my infamous sleeping habit, but I bit my lip and carried on walking. I had lived with people like Terry long enough & I knew not to fuel their fire.
As I hurried out of Bellville High my satchel swung against my waist and I felt my camera bang into my body through the leather of my bag, reminding me of it's where abouts.
I decided it was time to visit the cemetery.
Okay this is kind of short, I couldn't think of a good way to end it before it went on for ages, Gerard hasn't come in yet but I'll bring him in next time :)
--------------------------------------------------------------
Unhearted
Art was one the very little things to bring me comfort in my life. I remember when my sister bought me a digital camera for my twelfth birthday. That camera became my world, I wouldn't leave the house without it. Art had been a passion of mine since I was a small child so I loved exploring the world of creativity through a lens. After moving to Bellville I still kept my camera close with me at all times. It reminded me of Natasha and it made me feel close to her spirit in a way as I knew she loved art as much as me. I would often visit the Belleville cemetery to take photos. For an odd reason I found cemeterys beautiful. I fell in love with the sense a church ground held, the different carved tomb stones and the statues, the way memorial transcriptions had been etched into the stone to forever remember a loved one. I longed to visit Natasha's grave one day back in Arizona. I wanted to capture an image of her grave to take back to Belleville for when I missed her and needed her. However I knew I wasn't strong enough to see my sister again. I wouldn't be able to handle the guilt any stronger than it already was, so I would have to wait.
After an hour or so of hiding in the girl's bathroom it soon became the last session of the day and I decided to drag myself to my art class. Even though I was intelligent I did not do well in my Freshmen years, which meant I still had to take required subjects such as math and science so I was thankful when at least I was able to attend art.
I liked to sit right at the back of the room so I could study alone and in depth. As expected I didn't really speak to anyone in my class unless they spoke to me. Like everywhere in Belleville High the students seemed to be separated into groups across the room; there were the pretty, popular people, the average people, the studious people, the people who would be considered as freaks and then there was me - the freak of all freaks.
Every morning I would stare at myself in the mirror and wonder why I had to live a ruined life. I had long, dark hair which turned chestnut at it's tips. I never bothered to brush it so it settled in messy waves around my face. My skin pale but not deathly, against the flesh of my nose lay a double piercing and I had placed a taper in my left ear. My eyes an ocean green colour and my body slender, I would have appeared as an average teenage female. Before the blonde haired man came along I had been one of the pretty, popular people. I was a normal young girl. On the outside I still looked like that normal girl, but the way I could scream at the top of my lungs without a warning made me a creep. Because of the way I hardly ever uttered a word to most people and because of my disgusting life style. All of this gave my class mates reason to illuminate me, which wasn't a problem on my account. The problem was that when they were bored I became their play thing. They gave me un-wanted attention.
At half past three the bell finally rang to signal that it was time to go home. I packed away my belongings slowly as to avoid the people on my way out of school but as soon as I stepped foot outside I was met by Terry Koop and a couple of her minions. Terry was a bitch and she along with many others often waited after lessons and around corners for me to come their way. Terry pressed her stick like body up against mine until I became sandwiched between her and the brick walling, her hard grey eyes narrowed as her blonde hair poured in front of her face and whisped across my own. "I head you fucked Jason the other night." She spat, curling her pink lips into a smirk. Jason was one of the few people who accepted me and one of the few I actually felt like spending time with. We'd get wasted on a regular basis and I'd been with him only twice, but Jason was friendly with nearly everyone at school which must have been how Terry found out. It didn't matter to me though.
"What's it to you?"
"Jason's a mate."
I rolled my eyes as I shoved Terry away but she only cornered me again and pinched my face between her tanned fingers.
"You're such a pretty little thing." She said. "If only you weren't such a fuck up."
I sighed, feeling bored of the same re-formed insult. "Look, just punch me or whatever and get it over with Terry, you know the drill." She laughed and let me go. "I'm not going to do it if you tell me to, go home and get some sleep, you look terrible." Without hesitation I started to walk away. "But don't forget to grow up Chloe!" She shouted after me. "You're a senior now and you shouldn't still be scared of the monsters under your bed!" I frowned at the cruel reference Terry used for my infamous sleeping habit, but I bit my lip and carried on walking. I had lived with people like Terry long enough & I knew not to fuel their fire.
As I hurried out of Bellville High my satchel swung against my waist and I felt my camera bang into my body through the leather of my bag, reminding me of it's where abouts.
I decided it was time to visit the cemetery.
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