Categories > Celebrities > Good Charlotte > Finding Hope
Finding Hope
4 reviewsA story about pain, suicide and hope. No pairings, but interesting all the same.
1Moving
Author: Strings393
Fiction Title: Finding Hope
Chapter Title: Having Faith
Pairing: None
Rating: I'm guessing it's a PG-13
Warnings: Language, Violence, Suicide
Summary: A story about pain, suicide and hope. No pairings, but interesting all the same.
Disclaimer: This is a story I wrote when listening to SOS and Hold On. These two songs have helped me so much through life, Hold On more than SOS, and made me see the guys as more than just a band with kick ass talent, but five guys that made me think twice. It is partly based on my personal experience. I never actually hurt myself, but I came pretty damn close and no, I never met the guys at a mall or in general. Also, my dad is still alive as is my mom. This fiction is meant to give kids hope and to keep fighting through even when it seems like it will never clear up. I took a quote from, I think it was Rock-Sound magazine, and used it here. The article was called 'Death Becomes Her'. At least...that's what I think it was. I altered it a little to fit the story, but I'm sure Rock-Sound will understand...at least...I hope they'll understand.
I don't own Good Charlotte or any of their songs.
Joel's POV
Benji walked over to me, presenting a three hundred dollar, sterling silver watch with a diamond framed face. "You think Mom would like this?" he asked. I looked at it and grinned.
"Yeah, that'd be the perfect birthday present for her." I replied. He smiled and brought it back over to the jeweler to get it personally engraved, which would cost at least another eighty dollars or so. After we bought the watch and had it wrapped and everything, we made our way through the mall, looking at random stores just for the hell of it. Benji claimed he needed a new hat. Billy stopped outside a window for a second and admired the makeup that was displayed. Paul and Chris were busy looking at little toys.
A girl that looked no older than sixteen walked up to us, visibly shaking lightly from head to toe. Her black, zip-up hoodie looked like it was trying to eat her frail figure and she was standing at about four inches or so shorter than Benji. I got the other guys' attention and we all just looked at her. She stopped about five feet in front of us, Converse lightly overlapping one another, like a nervous little kid would stand. Her pants also gave the illusion that they were engulfing her body. She just looked at us through the strands of her red hair, not saying a word. A tear rolled down her cheek. She walked up and hugged each one of us, still with out saying a word. When she returned to her spot at five feet away, she whispered; "Thank you for saving me." I felt my breath catch in my chest.
Day after day...show after show, we get letters from kids all over the world telling us that they want to end their lives. Some of them just walk up to us, hand a letter and walk away. It kills us to see kids so young think about such depressing things. We could help a kid in some town and then we'll have to leave, most likely never seeing them again. I looked over at Benji. He took a step toward the girl. "What's your name?" he asked.
"Colleen." she replied quietly. I felt so bad for the girl. She looks so fragile and scared to meet us, but there was that feeling of hope too. "I never thought I'd meet you guys, but you're standing in front of me now." I looked back at Billy, Paul and Chris and up at Benji.
"Do you want to sit down somewhere and talk about it?" I asked cautiously. She nodded. We walked to the food court and sat at one of the tables outside in the farthest corner away from the street. Silence hung in the air, practically smothering us.
"My father committed suicide when I was nine." she started. "He shot himself in the head in our living room. I came home from school and saw him...and I didn't know what to do. I called my mom and I was crying...she thought I had a bad day until I told her...told her what happened. I didn't know that what he did was suicide. All I told her was; 'Mommy, Daddy's head's gone and he won't wake up.'." I felt a lump in my throat. I looked over at the rest of the guys and could tell that they felt the same way I did. No nine year old should have to see that. "My mom came rushing home...and when she saw him, she threw up all over the tile. I was only nine...I didn't know what was happening. She found his note and started to cry. She called nine-one-one and told me that everything was going to be fine." She stopped, taking deep breaths as if willing herself not to cry. Benji reached out and rubbed her arm in a comforting manner. "I don't know how word got out...maybe someone overheard my mom telling one of my teachers or something...but word spread about my dad. By the time I was in middle school, I was known as 'that girl with the dad that blew his brains out'. People would tease me and say things like; 'No wonder why your dad killed himself.' or 'I bet it's your fault your dad's dead.'." I shook my head. Kids were so cruel at times.
"You shouldn't listen to them, Colleen." Paul said quietly.
"I tried not to at first, but then I started thinking that they were right. That maybe I was as big of a screw up as they thought. My grades started slipping because I was so sure that I was too stupid to handle anything. I cried at night more...my mom didn't even notice the bags under my eyes because she was working too hard to support me and her. Then I thought that things would be a lot easier on her if she had one less mouth to feed."
"No...that's not true. I'm sure your mother loves you more than you'll ever know." Billy said. She chuckled. "It's true."
"I remember sitting in my room, with the razor in my hand..." Her voice cracked and she freely crying now. "I put it to my wrist and dragged it down doing the same to the other side...and I...I remember the rush I got from it. I remember the feeling of relief I got when I saw the blood seeping out from the gash that I had put on myself." She looked up at us, tearstains glinting on her cheeks, eyelashes completely soaked. "Then your song came on...Hold On...I just sat there and I listened. I listened to every word you said, Joel...and that's when I realized, that I didn't want to die. If things were going to get better than they were, then I didn't want to die. I thought about my friends and how I'd be letting them down...I thought about the kids I could have in the future...and I couldn't stop crying. I was shaking so hard, crying just as hard and I felt as if I were going to throw up." I closed my eyes, willing the tears to go away. This girl...this /kid/...was on the edge of life and death and no one knew. No one fucking knew and that killed me.
Kids gave us letters and we're like; "What the fuck!" We lost sleep over it because it's so fucked up. There were times where I wanted to give the letter to the kid's parents and say; "Fucking read this shit - the kid is going through pain. You need to stop fucking criticizing what he's listening to or wearing and start thinking about what he is going through or you're going to lose him." When we have kids coming up to us telling us that they want to kill themselves everyday, saying our music is the only thing that stops them, we're like; "What if our music stops being the reason that he lives?"
When I opened my eyes again, I saw her looking directly at me with her piercing blue eyes. "I grabbed a shirt from my laundry basket and got my neighbor to drive me to the hospital. He promised not to tell my mom anything. I got stitched up and I'm here today. I'm glad I'm still here. Now that I look back on it, I can't image how I could have been so selfish as to leave my mom and my friends. That's why I love your band. I could care less about your looks unlike most of your fans. I liked you all at first because I thought you were just five guys in a band with kick ass talent. Now I see you as five guys that saved me. I am so, so grateful for you and I owe you all my life. If it weren't for you...I wouldn't be sitting at this table right now." I felt a tear roll down my cheek. "I know that the twins had crappy backgrounds and whatnot, and I'm sure it wasn't all peaches and cream for the rest of you, but I'm so completely amazed how people as emotionally tortured as you were came out to be five of the most beautiful people in the world."
"We're not the greatest people in the world." I started, but she cut me off.
"To me you are! You are the most wonderful creatures to ever set foot on this Earth. I didn't have too much faith in God, but as soon as you all helped me, I've realized that you're my Guardian Angels. You were put here to help me as well as a lot of other kids with problems such as mine...and I'm so, so, so grateful. You're famous now...you're rich...you could just blow off your fans like snobby celebrities. You could not care if one of them killed themselves, but you do care and that's why I love you guys as much as I do. You didn't have to take the time out of your lives and write a song to tell kids to keep fighting through life because it'll get better. You didn't have to take the time out of your overly packed schedules to think up of music to go with the lyrics, but you did because you care. You don't know how much it means to me and the rest of the kids you've helped. You've been there when no one else could have. You were there when I really needed comfort." I felt another tear roll down my cheek. I started to worry if we'd ever be able to help her again if she really needed us.
"Our music helps you and we're so glad that it does, but what happens when you don't have a CD player around for help?" Chris asked quietly, thoughts the same as mine. She pushed up her hoodie sleeves and held out her arms, revealing two long, vertical scars running from her wrists to her mid-forearm. I put my hand over my mouth. It wasn't the first time I'd seen this on a fan, but she was so delicate, I was amazed that she didn't bleed everything out within the first two minutes. Vertically down the scar on her right arm, a tattoo written in cursive letters read; /Still/. Vertically down the scar on her left arm, a tattoo with the same letters read; /Here/. I looked up at her.
"That's my reminder. I tried it before, and then you all helped me, so I'm still here. Whenever I see that tattoo, I smile. It was the first tattoo I ever got. My neighbor pretended to be my dad so I could get it." I saw Benji grin lightly. "I just wanted to say thank you...I'm really glad I'm still here." She stood up and started to walk away.
"Hey!" I called, getting up and waving her back over to us. She came and looked at us with a questioning look. "Don't you want like...an autograph or something?" I asked. She smiled and shook her head.
"No thanks...I've got this memory. I'm just praying that you'll remember me if we ever meet again in the future." she answered. I smiled back.
"I'll definitely remember you." The rest of the guys and I gave her one more hug. "Just...promise me three things." I said.
"Okay."
"Tell the people you love how much you love them everyday." She nodded. "Remember that it's okay to get help...and just...take care of yourself, alright?" She smiled.
"You've got it. I love you guys. Keep representin' your fans. You do a hell of a good job at it." The guys and I smiled as she walked away. This was one town we could leave and not feel bad about not fully helping out the kid that asked us for our help. This was one town we could leave, and actually smile before we went to sleep.
/Fin./
Fiction Title: Finding Hope
Chapter Title: Having Faith
Pairing: None
Rating: I'm guessing it's a PG-13
Warnings: Language, Violence, Suicide
Summary: A story about pain, suicide and hope. No pairings, but interesting all the same.
Disclaimer: This is a story I wrote when listening to SOS and Hold On. These two songs have helped me so much through life, Hold On more than SOS, and made me see the guys as more than just a band with kick ass talent, but five guys that made me think twice. It is partly based on my personal experience. I never actually hurt myself, but I came pretty damn close and no, I never met the guys at a mall or in general. Also, my dad is still alive as is my mom. This fiction is meant to give kids hope and to keep fighting through even when it seems like it will never clear up. I took a quote from, I think it was Rock-Sound magazine, and used it here. The article was called 'Death Becomes Her'. At least...that's what I think it was. I altered it a little to fit the story, but I'm sure Rock-Sound will understand...at least...I hope they'll understand.
I don't own Good Charlotte or any of their songs.
Joel's POV
Benji walked over to me, presenting a three hundred dollar, sterling silver watch with a diamond framed face. "You think Mom would like this?" he asked. I looked at it and grinned.
"Yeah, that'd be the perfect birthday present for her." I replied. He smiled and brought it back over to the jeweler to get it personally engraved, which would cost at least another eighty dollars or so. After we bought the watch and had it wrapped and everything, we made our way through the mall, looking at random stores just for the hell of it. Benji claimed he needed a new hat. Billy stopped outside a window for a second and admired the makeup that was displayed. Paul and Chris were busy looking at little toys.
A girl that looked no older than sixteen walked up to us, visibly shaking lightly from head to toe. Her black, zip-up hoodie looked like it was trying to eat her frail figure and she was standing at about four inches or so shorter than Benji. I got the other guys' attention and we all just looked at her. She stopped about five feet in front of us, Converse lightly overlapping one another, like a nervous little kid would stand. Her pants also gave the illusion that they were engulfing her body. She just looked at us through the strands of her red hair, not saying a word. A tear rolled down her cheek. She walked up and hugged each one of us, still with out saying a word. When she returned to her spot at five feet away, she whispered; "Thank you for saving me." I felt my breath catch in my chest.
Day after day...show after show, we get letters from kids all over the world telling us that they want to end their lives. Some of them just walk up to us, hand a letter and walk away. It kills us to see kids so young think about such depressing things. We could help a kid in some town and then we'll have to leave, most likely never seeing them again. I looked over at Benji. He took a step toward the girl. "What's your name?" he asked.
"Colleen." she replied quietly. I felt so bad for the girl. She looks so fragile and scared to meet us, but there was that feeling of hope too. "I never thought I'd meet you guys, but you're standing in front of me now." I looked back at Billy, Paul and Chris and up at Benji.
"Do you want to sit down somewhere and talk about it?" I asked cautiously. She nodded. We walked to the food court and sat at one of the tables outside in the farthest corner away from the street. Silence hung in the air, practically smothering us.
"My father committed suicide when I was nine." she started. "He shot himself in the head in our living room. I came home from school and saw him...and I didn't know what to do. I called my mom and I was crying...she thought I had a bad day until I told her...told her what happened. I didn't know that what he did was suicide. All I told her was; 'Mommy, Daddy's head's gone and he won't wake up.'." I felt a lump in my throat. I looked over at the rest of the guys and could tell that they felt the same way I did. No nine year old should have to see that. "My mom came rushing home...and when she saw him, she threw up all over the tile. I was only nine...I didn't know what was happening. She found his note and started to cry. She called nine-one-one and told me that everything was going to be fine." She stopped, taking deep breaths as if willing herself not to cry. Benji reached out and rubbed her arm in a comforting manner. "I don't know how word got out...maybe someone overheard my mom telling one of my teachers or something...but word spread about my dad. By the time I was in middle school, I was known as 'that girl with the dad that blew his brains out'. People would tease me and say things like; 'No wonder why your dad killed himself.' or 'I bet it's your fault your dad's dead.'." I shook my head. Kids were so cruel at times.
"You shouldn't listen to them, Colleen." Paul said quietly.
"I tried not to at first, but then I started thinking that they were right. That maybe I was as big of a screw up as they thought. My grades started slipping because I was so sure that I was too stupid to handle anything. I cried at night more...my mom didn't even notice the bags under my eyes because she was working too hard to support me and her. Then I thought that things would be a lot easier on her if she had one less mouth to feed."
"No...that's not true. I'm sure your mother loves you more than you'll ever know." Billy said. She chuckled. "It's true."
"I remember sitting in my room, with the razor in my hand..." Her voice cracked and she freely crying now. "I put it to my wrist and dragged it down doing the same to the other side...and I...I remember the rush I got from it. I remember the feeling of relief I got when I saw the blood seeping out from the gash that I had put on myself." She looked up at us, tearstains glinting on her cheeks, eyelashes completely soaked. "Then your song came on...Hold On...I just sat there and I listened. I listened to every word you said, Joel...and that's when I realized, that I didn't want to die. If things were going to get better than they were, then I didn't want to die. I thought about my friends and how I'd be letting them down...I thought about the kids I could have in the future...and I couldn't stop crying. I was shaking so hard, crying just as hard and I felt as if I were going to throw up." I closed my eyes, willing the tears to go away. This girl...this /kid/...was on the edge of life and death and no one knew. No one fucking knew and that killed me.
Kids gave us letters and we're like; "What the fuck!" We lost sleep over it because it's so fucked up. There were times where I wanted to give the letter to the kid's parents and say; "Fucking read this shit - the kid is going through pain. You need to stop fucking criticizing what he's listening to or wearing and start thinking about what he is going through or you're going to lose him." When we have kids coming up to us telling us that they want to kill themselves everyday, saying our music is the only thing that stops them, we're like; "What if our music stops being the reason that he lives?"
When I opened my eyes again, I saw her looking directly at me with her piercing blue eyes. "I grabbed a shirt from my laundry basket and got my neighbor to drive me to the hospital. He promised not to tell my mom anything. I got stitched up and I'm here today. I'm glad I'm still here. Now that I look back on it, I can't image how I could have been so selfish as to leave my mom and my friends. That's why I love your band. I could care less about your looks unlike most of your fans. I liked you all at first because I thought you were just five guys in a band with kick ass talent. Now I see you as five guys that saved me. I am so, so grateful for you and I owe you all my life. If it weren't for you...I wouldn't be sitting at this table right now." I felt a tear roll down my cheek. "I know that the twins had crappy backgrounds and whatnot, and I'm sure it wasn't all peaches and cream for the rest of you, but I'm so completely amazed how people as emotionally tortured as you were came out to be five of the most beautiful people in the world."
"We're not the greatest people in the world." I started, but she cut me off.
"To me you are! You are the most wonderful creatures to ever set foot on this Earth. I didn't have too much faith in God, but as soon as you all helped me, I've realized that you're my Guardian Angels. You were put here to help me as well as a lot of other kids with problems such as mine...and I'm so, so, so grateful. You're famous now...you're rich...you could just blow off your fans like snobby celebrities. You could not care if one of them killed themselves, but you do care and that's why I love you guys as much as I do. You didn't have to take the time out of your lives and write a song to tell kids to keep fighting through life because it'll get better. You didn't have to take the time out of your overly packed schedules to think up of music to go with the lyrics, but you did because you care. You don't know how much it means to me and the rest of the kids you've helped. You've been there when no one else could have. You were there when I really needed comfort." I felt another tear roll down my cheek. I started to worry if we'd ever be able to help her again if she really needed us.
"Our music helps you and we're so glad that it does, but what happens when you don't have a CD player around for help?" Chris asked quietly, thoughts the same as mine. She pushed up her hoodie sleeves and held out her arms, revealing two long, vertical scars running from her wrists to her mid-forearm. I put my hand over my mouth. It wasn't the first time I'd seen this on a fan, but she was so delicate, I was amazed that she didn't bleed everything out within the first two minutes. Vertically down the scar on her right arm, a tattoo written in cursive letters read; /Still/. Vertically down the scar on her left arm, a tattoo with the same letters read; /Here/. I looked up at her.
"That's my reminder. I tried it before, and then you all helped me, so I'm still here. Whenever I see that tattoo, I smile. It was the first tattoo I ever got. My neighbor pretended to be my dad so I could get it." I saw Benji grin lightly. "I just wanted to say thank you...I'm really glad I'm still here." She stood up and started to walk away.
"Hey!" I called, getting up and waving her back over to us. She came and looked at us with a questioning look. "Don't you want like...an autograph or something?" I asked. She smiled and shook her head.
"No thanks...I've got this memory. I'm just praying that you'll remember me if we ever meet again in the future." she answered. I smiled back.
"I'll definitely remember you." The rest of the guys and I gave her one more hug. "Just...promise me three things." I said.
"Okay."
"Tell the people you love how much you love them everyday." She nodded. "Remember that it's okay to get help...and just...take care of yourself, alright?" She smiled.
"You've got it. I love you guys. Keep representin' your fans. You do a hell of a good job at it." The guys and I smiled as she walked away. This was one town we could leave and not feel bad about not fully helping out the kid that asked us for our help. This was one town we could leave, and actually smile before we went to sleep.
/Fin./
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