Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance
Kitty's Story
7 ReviewsRead this shit.
You've heard them. You've sung along to the lyrics dozens of times. You've watched them sing their hearts out millions of times.
Who are they?
They're the leaders of the Broken, the Beaten, the Damned.
They are My Chemical Romance and they saved my life.
I was born in Guatemala. My birth mother was unable to care for me and I was adopted.
I had a normal childhood. A good one in fact. I kept good grades in school, played Harry Potter with my friends, and I made many happy memories with my family. Once in second grade I had a breakdown. Once when I was eleven I hid a knife under my pillow. But life was good to me.
Fast forward about eight years. It was the summer of third grade and my sister had left to go to her friend's house. I, being the spying younger sister went into her room and took her iPod. One song caught my eye quickly. Teenagers, by My Chemical Romance. Seriously? She listened to this emo crap? Whatever. I turned it on, pressed play, and got ready to be amused by horribly singing and bad lyrics. But I have never been so wrong in my life. I was too young to be able to relate to the words but the music was catchy and I listened to Teenagers about five times in a row. However, when my sister came home and found me, I asked her "You actually listen to an emo band? Ew."
Let's go to when I was in Seventh grade. I was starting at a new school. Right at the start I didn't fit in, from my frizzy black hair and glasses that kept slipping down my nose to my clothes and my awkward presence. I didn't make many friends that year, and when I did I wasn't close with them. It was a hard time for me, and I usually kept to myself. I was never the popular kid in the crowd. I was the kid that always blurted out nonsense and sat in the back.
Eighth grade. I made more friends. . One was Amanda, and I owe her a lot. She was obsessed with My Chemical Romance. I still scoffed at them however because I hadn't listened to them since the summer in third grade. She was exactly like Gerard too, looking like him and being an amazing artist herself. I remember all the discussions we had, over who's band was better, how much she liked them, and how I thought she was crazy because of that. I barely knew anything about them. I didn't know if Ray was actually Frank or if Frank was actually Ray. I began to want to like them so one night I researched them to get in the know and fit in more.
I remember I first listened to Mama and Famous Last Words. Then Welcome to the Black Parade. I thought Gerard sounded a lot like Billie Joe Armstrong.
From eighth grade to ninth I became obsessed also. The lyrics began to apply to me, I mean I could relate to them. It turns out I had depression for quite a while. I began to dress in all black, I cut my hair. . . I began to hate the world. Kids at school would refer to my group as the 'emo group'.
The lyrics brought me to life. They lifted me up, made me feel like I was a part of something special. But yet, I began to sink lower and lower.
The first time I attempted suicide was scary. I was just playing around with my belt at first. But then I became serious. What was the point of life? Was I actually special? Did my tiny presence mean something? So I wrapped the belt around my neck and hung it on a doorknob. I'm small enough so that when I sit down under it, my head can't reach it. I gasped for air and it felt so good. I decided not to go through with it after all. I'd just play is all.
After three more times, a call to the Suicide Hotline, and many sessions of counseling things just escalated. One night I held a knife to my mom's chest. One night after I had witnessed a baby bird get killed I tried to slit my throat but my sister caught me and I almost stabbed her. One night I went out barefoot into the snowy streets to get myself hit by a car. My cowardice didn't allow that and I stuck with being miserable.
I begged and screamed at my parents to take me to the mental hospital. When we were pulling in I turned on Welcome. The familiar lyrics and Gerard's voice calmed me and for a while I had some hope. It was scary being alone at the hospital. I was just some small brown kid who couldn't defend herself even if she needed to be. They took my clothes off and checked me for all my injuries. They took my blood at six in the morning. And through it all I was by myself. I cried the next couple of nights. I regretted doing what I had done. I did meet a boy named Sage there. It turns out he liked MCR too and when his mom came for a visit we listened to Famous Last Words.
I am not afraid to keep on living.
I am not afraid to walk this world alone.
I sang my fucking heart out, sang everything I had felt.
I got back. Things stayed the same. One night after Youth Group I tried to hang myself again. It almost worked if my dad hadn't been there. This was after I met everyone on Ficwad. . . I would just be another lost kid. I was too scared to live. Too scared to die. I was a ghost. I hated the world for things it never did to me, for the violence and hatred. I hated my birthmother for giving me up, and most of all I hated my self. For being my weird, antisocial self. For not being able to make friends and not being able to bare my soul. Yet I was already vulnerable.
I went back to the hospital. I cried more. I even had a mental breakdown, screaming IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT?! IS THIS FUCKING IT? I'M NOT OKAY!!
This leads to where I am now. I realize that Gerard was there all along for me. Maybe not in person, but still. He tells me it's okay, that the world may be ugly, but I am still beautiful.
I may take pills. I may have my days where all I want is to shoot the fucking world. But now I realize that they'll always be there for me. Mikey, Frank, Ray and Gerard.
This is why I am who I am today. Why I dress differently. Why I listen to rock music, why I write the poetry I do. Why I am so damn emotional. People may say that I'm just a drama queen, that I should just grow up. I have issues, I know. Please don't shove them in my face.
I am a soldier. I am a killjoy. I am a Kid From Yesterday. . . .this is why I am still here today.
Who are they?
They're the leaders of the Broken, the Beaten, the Damned.
They are My Chemical Romance and they saved my life.
I was born in Guatemala. My birth mother was unable to care for me and I was adopted.
I had a normal childhood. A good one in fact. I kept good grades in school, played Harry Potter with my friends, and I made many happy memories with my family. Once in second grade I had a breakdown. Once when I was eleven I hid a knife under my pillow. But life was good to me.
Fast forward about eight years. It was the summer of third grade and my sister had left to go to her friend's house. I, being the spying younger sister went into her room and took her iPod. One song caught my eye quickly. Teenagers, by My Chemical Romance. Seriously? She listened to this emo crap? Whatever. I turned it on, pressed play, and got ready to be amused by horribly singing and bad lyrics. But I have never been so wrong in my life. I was too young to be able to relate to the words but the music was catchy and I listened to Teenagers about five times in a row. However, when my sister came home and found me, I asked her "You actually listen to an emo band? Ew."
Let's go to when I was in Seventh grade. I was starting at a new school. Right at the start I didn't fit in, from my frizzy black hair and glasses that kept slipping down my nose to my clothes and my awkward presence. I didn't make many friends that year, and when I did I wasn't close with them. It was a hard time for me, and I usually kept to myself. I was never the popular kid in the crowd. I was the kid that always blurted out nonsense and sat in the back.
Eighth grade. I made more friends. . One was Amanda, and I owe her a lot. She was obsessed with My Chemical Romance. I still scoffed at them however because I hadn't listened to them since the summer in third grade. She was exactly like Gerard too, looking like him and being an amazing artist herself. I remember all the discussions we had, over who's band was better, how much she liked them, and how I thought she was crazy because of that. I barely knew anything about them. I didn't know if Ray was actually Frank or if Frank was actually Ray. I began to want to like them so one night I researched them to get in the know and fit in more.
I remember I first listened to Mama and Famous Last Words. Then Welcome to the Black Parade. I thought Gerard sounded a lot like Billie Joe Armstrong.
From eighth grade to ninth I became obsessed also. The lyrics began to apply to me, I mean I could relate to them. It turns out I had depression for quite a while. I began to dress in all black, I cut my hair. . . I began to hate the world. Kids at school would refer to my group as the 'emo group'.
The lyrics brought me to life. They lifted me up, made me feel like I was a part of something special. But yet, I began to sink lower and lower.
The first time I attempted suicide was scary. I was just playing around with my belt at first. But then I became serious. What was the point of life? Was I actually special? Did my tiny presence mean something? So I wrapped the belt around my neck and hung it on a doorknob. I'm small enough so that when I sit down under it, my head can't reach it. I gasped for air and it felt so good. I decided not to go through with it after all. I'd just play is all.
After three more times, a call to the Suicide Hotline, and many sessions of counseling things just escalated. One night I held a knife to my mom's chest. One night after I had witnessed a baby bird get killed I tried to slit my throat but my sister caught me and I almost stabbed her. One night I went out barefoot into the snowy streets to get myself hit by a car. My cowardice didn't allow that and I stuck with being miserable.
I begged and screamed at my parents to take me to the mental hospital. When we were pulling in I turned on Welcome. The familiar lyrics and Gerard's voice calmed me and for a while I had some hope. It was scary being alone at the hospital. I was just some small brown kid who couldn't defend herself even if she needed to be. They took my clothes off and checked me for all my injuries. They took my blood at six in the morning. And through it all I was by myself. I cried the next couple of nights. I regretted doing what I had done. I did meet a boy named Sage there. It turns out he liked MCR too and when his mom came for a visit we listened to Famous Last Words.
I am not afraid to keep on living.
I am not afraid to walk this world alone.
I sang my fucking heart out, sang everything I had felt.
I got back. Things stayed the same. One night after Youth Group I tried to hang myself again. It almost worked if my dad hadn't been there. This was after I met everyone on Ficwad. . . I would just be another lost kid. I was too scared to live. Too scared to die. I was a ghost. I hated the world for things it never did to me, for the violence and hatred. I hated my birthmother for giving me up, and most of all I hated my self. For being my weird, antisocial self. For not being able to make friends and not being able to bare my soul. Yet I was already vulnerable.
I went back to the hospital. I cried more. I even had a mental breakdown, screaming IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT?! IS THIS FUCKING IT? I'M NOT OKAY!!
This leads to where I am now. I realize that Gerard was there all along for me. Maybe not in person, but still. He tells me it's okay, that the world may be ugly, but I am still beautiful.
I may take pills. I may have my days where all I want is to shoot the fucking world. But now I realize that they'll always be there for me. Mikey, Frank, Ray and Gerard.
This is why I am who I am today. Why I dress differently. Why I listen to rock music, why I write the poetry I do. Why I am so damn emotional. People may say that I'm just a drama queen, that I should just grow up. I have issues, I know. Please don't shove them in my face.
I am a soldier. I am a killjoy. I am a Kid From Yesterday. . . .this is why I am still here today.
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