Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Stepping Onto The Danger Line
(Aria's P.O.V)
[/I’m Aria Jane Miller, I know, odd name huh? Everyone here says it is. Aria is an Italian name, well I think it is because my mother was Italian; it means “A melody". Jane came from my father’s side, Dad was American; it was his mother’s name. My parents met on a cruise around the Caribbean and it was as some people say “love at first sight". They got married in Italy and lived together in America. My name was chosen by my mother, who was very good at singing and played the piano. She taught me to when I was 3. Father said I starting singing as soon as I learnt to say my first word, which was "Angel". Once more, strange right? My mother sang the same song around the house we lived in, angels I guess stood out the most for me. I’m 9 years old; I have dark brown hair and green eyes. And I’m really happy at my school. I have made so many new friends and everyone is so friendly. Something really odd about me is my birthmark. It resides on my right shoulder and seems to be the only odd thing about me. It’s shaped like two angel wings. Is it a coincidence that my first word is related to my birthmark? Probably is! Anyway, my old life is written here and who knows, maybe I’ll look back on this in 3-4 years and it may all be the same!
I looked back at my old words on the yellowing page, thinking about her younger, more alive self. I sat alone in a bedroom which was covered in posters of The Misfits, Iron Maiden, Nightwish, The Smashing Pumpkins and many more bands I love. A small lamp was on by the side of my bed and was illuminating my keyboard, wardrobe and shelves, making weird shadows dance over the walls. Everything I had written on that day had been screwed up, melted and thrown into my world of despair. I lost my parents when I was 10 years 10 months. They had apparently died in a plane accident and the craft had plummeted into the ocean after the main cabin caught fire. This was number one on my “reasons why my life sucks" list. I loved my mum and dad and I knew they loved me very much. My dad, Scott Miller, was a doctor, a very good doctor and he taught me all about it from checking people’s pulse to applying bandages. My mother, Ivanna Miller, was an artist and painted extremely beautiful pictures. I guess that’s where i get some of my artistic flare. The only thing I remember them saying before they left to go see my grandfather in Italy was
"Goodbye darling, we will be back soon. Be careful and don’t get into any trouble"
"Mama, can’t I come with you?"
"Dear, we said, your grandpa is ill and we don’t want you getting too upset"
"Ok mama, who's gonna look after me?"
"Auntie Clara and Cousin Sebastian"
"Oh yay! What about Uncle Richard?"
"No angel. He is at work, but I’m sure you’ll be fine”
“Ok papa”
“We love you so much Aria, we really won’t be long”
“Oh, and try and stay out of trouble and be careful”
“I always try”
“Like i said Ivanna, she will be fine”
Well, I’m not damn fine now! I thought and threw the paper at the wall with all my strength. After I knew mum and dad were dead, more news reached me. One year later, my aunt and my 18 year old cousin Sebastian were leaving for England. I had protested day in and day out but they had gone, leaving me here with no one. Uncle Richard never liked being called his first name. I hadn’t figured out why but I had been told he was once in the army. We usually called him Uncle Miller or Sir. Anyway, I assumed he would look after me, but after days of waiting and Aunt Clara saying he would be coming to care for me, no one came. Some people at my school called me an “emo, loner, goth girl” “emo bitch” was the worst as i don’t swear much; it was never to my liking anyway. You may wonder how I survive with no money. Well, my parents were quite rich and left all they had in their wills to me, plus aunt Clara sends me money sometimes in the post to "help me get by” I can’t remember how much and it’s not really significant, but after 3 years, here I am, alive.
One thing was defiantly odd when my 1 year of no family had gone by. After Aunt Clara and Sebastian left, there had been a truck outside the street by my house. Me, being the inquisitive little kid I was, went to look. The house next to me was in a state of frenzy, People bustling in and out with furniture and loading it into a truck. A woman was getting into a car before she spotted me “Aria!" she said and came to greet me “Mrs Redgewell” I replied "What’s happening?" Miss Redgewell sighed” Me and Johnny are moving dear" I was shocked” what?! Why?!" "Johnny got a new job but it’s further away, 3 hours to be precise" I honk sounded “Come on dear!" said Mr Redgewell “we can’t be late" Mrs Redgewell hugged me and wished me goodbye. She waved out the window as I watched the only person I knew cared, disappeared down the road. But that’s not the strange part.
The new people came only a few weeks ago. It took about a year for someone to move into the house next door. Is that a bit long to leave a house unoccupied? Another truck appeared with the new owner or owners of the Redgewell's house. I peeped out the window at the side of the house which had a perfect view of the front and side of next door to see who the people taking the house were. Men stepped out of the truck, looking at the house with mild interest. One stepped forward, took out some keys in his pocket and opened the door. He was quite tall, brown-black hair, brown- green eyes and circular glasses. A man followed him inside. This one had short blond hair, blond beard and blue eyes. A shorter man followed with black hair, hazel eyes. Another had very fizzy hair and brown eyes and the last caught my attention. He seemed to be the least interested in the property. He had black hair which went down to his shoulders and green-hazel eyes. He must have been related to the first man as the eyes were so alike. I can’t explain why but I didn’t seem to like these people much. They seemed to be the “unfriendly" kind. The creepy thing is whenever I passed the house in the morning to go to school; I could swear that one of them was watching me go, not only to school, but down the street or when I just wanted some air but when i look back, no one is there.
My parent’s deaths were 2 years ago, but the memory hurts still. I got changed into my black and red pyjamas and climbed into bed, thinking about my past life. I hadn’t thought about it much as it brought painful thoughts back and made me feel mournful. I lay on the soft material and snuggled up to my plush, white cat that I called Unit. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. Then i heard a tap outside and i looked up.
It was either my imagination or the thought of the men down the street; I could see someone looking at me through the window. I gasped and threw the covers over my head, terrified. A thief, murderer, rapist, maybe a paedophile? All these thoughts slipped through my mind. I gathered my courage and peeked out of the black sheets. No one was there. It was an empty, plain window with no face looking in at me. I got up, slid the window up, feeling cold, air on my face and body. No one. “Probably just a trick of the light, or the tree making a weird shadow" I thought. I shut the window, flew myself back in bed, cuddled up with Unit and fell into a slumber full of past lives with my parents and the figure at the window.
( Gerard’s P.O.V)
Damn! My carelessness has increased these past few weeks. I guess I need to get used to this new environment. I should have been more careful when looking in. Now, I’m going to get a telling off from the guys for letting her see me. It was the simplest plan to follow. Climb the tree, see who lives here, and go. The tree climbing’s easy when you’re a man like me but I guess when a 12 year old girl looks up and sees a man outside her window on the window sill, it’s unexpected. I quickly climbed up the tree again to see if I was correct, just to be sure. I looked at the figure, sleeping soundlessly in a soft bed. Defiantly a child with no parents, I had checked the entire house. I slid down the tree and I felt my mobile vibrate. "Well?" said a voice " seems to be no danger to us, I guess she was just inquisitive when she was watching us move in” I replied, quietly so that I wouldn’t be overheard "I hope your right, brother" said the voice and they hung up. "Yes" I said to myself "I’m usually right" Then I turned and headed back for home.
Hope you enjoyed! R&R if you'd like!
[/I’m Aria Jane Miller, I know, odd name huh? Everyone here says it is. Aria is an Italian name, well I think it is because my mother was Italian; it means “A melody". Jane came from my father’s side, Dad was American; it was his mother’s name. My parents met on a cruise around the Caribbean and it was as some people say “love at first sight". They got married in Italy and lived together in America. My name was chosen by my mother, who was very good at singing and played the piano. She taught me to when I was 3. Father said I starting singing as soon as I learnt to say my first word, which was "Angel". Once more, strange right? My mother sang the same song around the house we lived in, angels I guess stood out the most for me. I’m 9 years old; I have dark brown hair and green eyes. And I’m really happy at my school. I have made so many new friends and everyone is so friendly. Something really odd about me is my birthmark. It resides on my right shoulder and seems to be the only odd thing about me. It’s shaped like two angel wings. Is it a coincidence that my first word is related to my birthmark? Probably is! Anyway, my old life is written here and who knows, maybe I’ll look back on this in 3-4 years and it may all be the same!
I looked back at my old words on the yellowing page, thinking about her younger, more alive self. I sat alone in a bedroom which was covered in posters of The Misfits, Iron Maiden, Nightwish, The Smashing Pumpkins and many more bands I love. A small lamp was on by the side of my bed and was illuminating my keyboard, wardrobe and shelves, making weird shadows dance over the walls. Everything I had written on that day had been screwed up, melted and thrown into my world of despair. I lost my parents when I was 10 years 10 months. They had apparently died in a plane accident and the craft had plummeted into the ocean after the main cabin caught fire. This was number one on my “reasons why my life sucks" list. I loved my mum and dad and I knew they loved me very much. My dad, Scott Miller, was a doctor, a very good doctor and he taught me all about it from checking people’s pulse to applying bandages. My mother, Ivanna Miller, was an artist and painted extremely beautiful pictures. I guess that’s where i get some of my artistic flare. The only thing I remember them saying before they left to go see my grandfather in Italy was
"Goodbye darling, we will be back soon. Be careful and don’t get into any trouble"
"Mama, can’t I come with you?"
"Dear, we said, your grandpa is ill and we don’t want you getting too upset"
"Ok mama, who's gonna look after me?"
"Auntie Clara and Cousin Sebastian"
"Oh yay! What about Uncle Richard?"
"No angel. He is at work, but I’m sure you’ll be fine”
“Ok papa”
“We love you so much Aria, we really won’t be long”
“Oh, and try and stay out of trouble and be careful”
“I always try”
“Like i said Ivanna, she will be fine”
Well, I’m not damn fine now! I thought and threw the paper at the wall with all my strength. After I knew mum and dad were dead, more news reached me. One year later, my aunt and my 18 year old cousin Sebastian were leaving for England. I had protested day in and day out but they had gone, leaving me here with no one. Uncle Richard never liked being called his first name. I hadn’t figured out why but I had been told he was once in the army. We usually called him Uncle Miller or Sir. Anyway, I assumed he would look after me, but after days of waiting and Aunt Clara saying he would be coming to care for me, no one came. Some people at my school called me an “emo, loner, goth girl” “emo bitch” was the worst as i don’t swear much; it was never to my liking anyway. You may wonder how I survive with no money. Well, my parents were quite rich and left all they had in their wills to me, plus aunt Clara sends me money sometimes in the post to "help me get by” I can’t remember how much and it’s not really significant, but after 3 years, here I am, alive.
One thing was defiantly odd when my 1 year of no family had gone by. After Aunt Clara and Sebastian left, there had been a truck outside the street by my house. Me, being the inquisitive little kid I was, went to look. The house next to me was in a state of frenzy, People bustling in and out with furniture and loading it into a truck. A woman was getting into a car before she spotted me “Aria!" she said and came to greet me “Mrs Redgewell” I replied "What’s happening?" Miss Redgewell sighed” Me and Johnny are moving dear" I was shocked” what?! Why?!" "Johnny got a new job but it’s further away, 3 hours to be precise" I honk sounded “Come on dear!" said Mr Redgewell “we can’t be late" Mrs Redgewell hugged me and wished me goodbye. She waved out the window as I watched the only person I knew cared, disappeared down the road. But that’s not the strange part.
The new people came only a few weeks ago. It took about a year for someone to move into the house next door. Is that a bit long to leave a house unoccupied? Another truck appeared with the new owner or owners of the Redgewell's house. I peeped out the window at the side of the house which had a perfect view of the front and side of next door to see who the people taking the house were. Men stepped out of the truck, looking at the house with mild interest. One stepped forward, took out some keys in his pocket and opened the door. He was quite tall, brown-black hair, brown- green eyes and circular glasses. A man followed him inside. This one had short blond hair, blond beard and blue eyes. A shorter man followed with black hair, hazel eyes. Another had very fizzy hair and brown eyes and the last caught my attention. He seemed to be the least interested in the property. He had black hair which went down to his shoulders and green-hazel eyes. He must have been related to the first man as the eyes were so alike. I can’t explain why but I didn’t seem to like these people much. They seemed to be the “unfriendly" kind. The creepy thing is whenever I passed the house in the morning to go to school; I could swear that one of them was watching me go, not only to school, but down the street or when I just wanted some air but when i look back, no one is there.
My parent’s deaths were 2 years ago, but the memory hurts still. I got changed into my black and red pyjamas and climbed into bed, thinking about my past life. I hadn’t thought about it much as it brought painful thoughts back and made me feel mournful. I lay on the soft material and snuggled up to my plush, white cat that I called Unit. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. Then i heard a tap outside and i looked up.
It was either my imagination or the thought of the men down the street; I could see someone looking at me through the window. I gasped and threw the covers over my head, terrified. A thief, murderer, rapist, maybe a paedophile? All these thoughts slipped through my mind. I gathered my courage and peeked out of the black sheets. No one was there. It was an empty, plain window with no face looking in at me. I got up, slid the window up, feeling cold, air on my face and body. No one. “Probably just a trick of the light, or the tree making a weird shadow" I thought. I shut the window, flew myself back in bed, cuddled up with Unit and fell into a slumber full of past lives with my parents and the figure at the window.
( Gerard’s P.O.V)
Damn! My carelessness has increased these past few weeks. I guess I need to get used to this new environment. I should have been more careful when looking in. Now, I’m going to get a telling off from the guys for letting her see me. It was the simplest plan to follow. Climb the tree, see who lives here, and go. The tree climbing’s easy when you’re a man like me but I guess when a 12 year old girl looks up and sees a man outside her window on the window sill, it’s unexpected. I quickly climbed up the tree again to see if I was correct, just to be sure. I looked at the figure, sleeping soundlessly in a soft bed. Defiantly a child with no parents, I had checked the entire house. I slid down the tree and I felt my mobile vibrate. "Well?" said a voice " seems to be no danger to us, I guess she was just inquisitive when she was watching us move in” I replied, quietly so that I wouldn’t be overheard "I hope your right, brother" said the voice and they hung up. "Yes" I said to myself "I’m usually right" Then I turned and headed back for home.
Hope you enjoyed! R&R if you'd like!
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