10000% fact with a drop of My Chem. All about me.
Some people look at me and want to be me.
My sister actually says I’ve had a much better life than her; that people instantly like me, that I fit in.
Well? Most people would enjoy that attention. I fucking don’t.
You know why? Because I’m also a ‘freak’. Just because I’m popular, it doesn’t mean society likes me.
You know what I feel like? I feel that I’m just popular because I’m different. My friends look at me and I can see, just behind their eyes, they’re starting to get sick of me.
Let’s rewind a bit.
I was born in Cambridge, England. ‘Friday 5th November 1999, ten-to-ten a.m.’, as I say. That’s just one thing; whenever someone asks me when I was born, I recite the day, date, year and time. Yeah, I know what time I was born. My mum’s not likely to forget that, is she?
I also remember other people’s time of birth, sort of. Just the other day I overheard two boys in my class (Reece and Stanley) arguing about whether Stanley or Safiya (one of my friends) was older. Reece said it didn’t matter, that they were just born on the same day, it doesn’t make a difference. Stanley said it was him. Reece, being an obnoxious twat, then said it was Safiya. Hypocritical, much? And of course, due to my strange habits of remembering the most useless things possible and interrupting people to correct them, I mentioned how Stanley was born 15 minutes before Safiya. Yeah, the looks I got were mad. Stanley just stared at me, probably wondering why the fuck I know that.
But that’s beside the point.
When I was in primary school in Cambridge, I had an okay-sized group of friends. There was me, Sophie, Chloe H., Chloe R., Cameron, Callum, Lauren and Selena. I vaguely remember being Cameron and Callum’s ‘girlfriend’ (not at the same time!!) and organising how many children we’d have, what we’d name them... it’s quite sweet, looking back at it. I didn’t like one of the Chloes much. I hated ‘Abby’. Abby hated me, too. I can’t remember anything but her name, and she might have been the one who shoved Sophie off the foot-high brick wall, causing her to break open her forehead. It was either Sophie or Chloe... I can’t remember. I was 4 / 5.
But being a weird kid then? Yeah, in year 1, I was the girl who’d play Sonic with the boys (I was always Tails, I thought he was a girl), I was the girl who saw a dead rat on a floor and felt sorry for it, so I buried it next to the climbing frame.
Just after my sixth birthday, we moved to Australia. I still remember my last day at school in Cambridge. I got given a teddybear by my teacher, Mrs Major. Isn’t it weird how these things stick? I have a strange memory.
Oh, Australia... I’m still not sure if I liked it or not. I don’t remember much. My first day at school, I made friends with Gabriella.... we soon hated each other. Don’t ask me why. I made friends with Julie, Lily (she taught me to draw... I loved her), Melissa (we had a strange friendship), Regina (who once broke her foot in gymnastics)... I was quite popular, but I was still weird. Most of my friends were Oriental Asian. Julie was Vietnamese, Lily was Burmese, Melissa was half Chinese, half white, I have no idea what race Regina was, but I’m sidetracked again. The point is, I was one of about 5 fully white kids in school. I was also one of two English kids. I never really saw Rachel in school, thinking back... I guess that’s because she took refuge in the library while I was out playing ‘Mr Teatime’ (you know,The Hogfather? “It’s pronounced teh-ah-tah-may, sir...”) with Lily and Jungle Creatures with Regina. Still, everyone noticed me... I don’t know whether it was because of my accent, because I had blonde hair and hated wearing hats, because of the massive gap between my front teeth which meant I couldn’t pronounce my name properly... Or if it was because I was the ‘tomboy’. Yeah. I wasn’t, I know that, but that was the label I picked up. I preferred making friends with the boys. I’d show off the scars on the inside of my calf from jumping off a fence. I’d burn leaves with a magnifying glass in the playground.
I don’t remember much from Australia, except from my friends. Well, I did get a plate... for the aforementioned gap in my teeth, and one of my ‘adult’ teeth was about a centimeter back from the rest of them. I’ve always had fairly big teeth.
I remember moving back to England, though... I was 9 1/2. I got a school in the first week of being in London. It was 2 minutes down the road. Again, I fitted in right away, but there was that bit of me that didn’t... Maybe it was because I though Oriana was ‘Florence’, Florence was ‘Margaret’, Margaret was ‘Bethlehem’ and I could never remember Bethlehem’s name. (I got there in the end.)
Oh, yeah, I nearly forgot. In year five, Dad left. I remember watching him pack his bags and walking out the front door. I think it might have been snowing. It was five days after my 10th birthday. On the 10th November, I still think about it. I don’t cry about it, not any more. I’m not over it. I don’t think people ever get over things, they just get used to it.
Me being 10 was one of the best, and the worst, times of my life. I discovered My Chemical Romance a week after Danger Days was released. I still get shit for it. Yeah, my first song was Na Na Na. So? Try playing Skylines And Turnstiles to someone who only listened to Avril Lavigne and Busted. Not going to work out well.
I spent ages listening to My Chem... I wasted away hours flicking through songs on YouTube. I teared up watching SING. I cried watching The Ghost Of You. I didn’t know who Mikey was, but I cried. I could tell how close he and Gerard were, the way they acted around each other when he was alive, the way Gerard screamed for him... I guessed they were brothers. I recognised Teenagers; I had heard it on the radio in Australia! I was scared watching Helena, at first, the makeup scared me... but I got used to it. My Chem was what started me listening to music. My Chem started me reciting lyrics in everyday conversations. In a way, My Chem ruined my life. I was now ‘emo’, people assumed I slit my wrists. I would repeat, day after day, “I’m not emo. I don’t cut my wrists. I’m a killjoy. I’m in the MCRmy. My Chemical Romance aren’t emo, they’re heroes.” Even though I had only started listening to them a few weeks ago, I knew how much they helped. I think my first MCR Facebook page was ‘Singing It For The World Because My Chemical Romance Told You To.’
I’m not going all mushy, saying ‘MCR shaved my wife’, or whatever it is now. Yeah, my first song was Na Na Na. Yes, I thought he was Frank Lero at first. Yes, I mixed them up sometimes.
They changed my life, they didn’t save it. They made me see the world in a different light. Sometimes, I wish I had never heard of them, because I’m so strange now. Then I remember they’re always there for me. I’m actually the resident ‘lesbian’ in school. So? I fucking werk dat homo. I do it with pride. I will paint my entire existence rainbow, I don’t care. Because I’d rather be the psychotic transvestite, than one of society.
So yeah, society probably hates me. Yeah, my friends are probably getting sick of me. But little by little, I think I’m getting better. I went to counseling... it’s been under six months and I don’t need it anymore.
I’m fucking proud of myself.
And I bet, My Chemical Romance would be too.