Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Reckless & Relentless
We could blame the world forever
Chapter Two
"You did NOT! I refuse to believe you!" He yelled when he reached the table I'd ran to in the dining hall. I slammed my fists on the table.
"What, do you want proof?"
"Maybe I do."
"Well you ain't getting any, faggot!"
He pouted and placed his hands on each side of his face and grunted. "I'm not a faggot."
"I know you're not."
"WELL WHY DID YOU CALL ME ONE?"
Smirking, I tapped my nose and giggled. "What lesson do you have next?"
"Geography, you?"
"Same." I sigh. This school was already driving me crazy. Geography in the morning and double maths in one day, it's not the best mix for an angsty, aggressive teenage girl on the verge of killing somebody. "I don't plan on going, though. Is there anything interesting around here?"
He pulled a face of though. "Nobody ever goes in the auditorium...we could go there."
I followed him through the hall until we reached a lards black door at the rear end of the school.
"It's sound proofed in here." He smirked and pulled the door open. It creaked close behind us as I stared at the thousands of seats in awe. The room was painted black and the stairs were covered in deep red carpet. A stage at least 5ft high stood out in the corner, with red curtains, huge speakers and rig lights.
“Wow! It’s like when I saw VersaEmerge.” I looked over to him and smirked. He strode of and ran up the stars to the stage. “Shut up about that! I still don’t believe you!” I followed him up the stairs. A piano sat in the furthest corner of the stage, the curtain at the back was draw. “Well you better.” Seriously, how menacing was I trying to be? I sounded like a 9 year old! “Ooh, a piano!” I’d spent almost 10 years learning to play, and I was pretty great at I, if I do say so myself. I waltzed over to it and pressed a few keys. “Dude, the room may be soundproofed, but you never know who’s gonna come in here!” He laughed at my liveliness. “Aw, come on! Do you ever have fun?” I said, sitting down on the stool and playing a few chords. He began to look nervous but sat down next to me anyway. I was just messing around with chords, trying to think of which song to play but finally, after a few minuets of thought I chose a song and began to play the right chords for it.
Bury all your secrets in my skin
Come away with innocence, and leave me with my sins
The air around me still feels like a cage
And love is just a camouflage for what resembles rage, again
This song had quickly become my favourite from Slipknot after my Grandma died. She’d say to me that she wanted me to sing at her funeral, so when I was 13, I decided to play this. Funnily enough, the song didn’t make me sad, if anything it actually made me happier. She had cancer and was in so much pain before she passed away. At the time it made me sad but now it reassured me that she wasn’t in pain anymore. Because she couldn’t feel anything. “Have I ever told you you’re really good at singing?” He said after I’d finished. I laughed a little bit then replied sarcastically. “No, I don’t think you have!” “Well you are, and a great pianist, too.” “Why thank you. I started playing 10 years ago, as a matter of fact.” He stood up and pulled me up with him but let go as soon as I stood up, then he pranced off a few feet.
He sat on the floor and patted it with his palm of his hand, signalling me to sit with him. “Franklin! Tell me more about you.” I said in the cheesiest voice possible.
“Well, that’s pretty easy. I live with both of my parent. I’m 15. I have 1 dog named Sinatra. I play guitar and sing…kind of. I plan on getting my whole body covered in tattoos and such. YOUR TURN!” He yelled. “I’m 15. I play piano and sing. I get upset really easily, which is something I wish I could control. I have a Monroe piercing. I have a stud in black, silver, purple and blue but I only ever wear one. I’ve been bullied for as long as I can remember and I guess that’s where all of my anger and rage comes from.”
Whilst biting his lip and ruffling his hair, he spoke: “So why did you get kicked out of your old school, again?”
“Oh…well it’s a long story, really. This girl – Bobby Aroway – had always been a little bitch. I think she had 3 friends, and even they didn’t like her. Still, it was 3 more friends than I had. Anyway, she would always spit at me and call me names. It sounds small, and yes, it was. But after 4 years you kind of get sick of it. So one day she decided to talk about my Dad. She said ‘You do know that you Dad’s gonna come out of prison and kill you. He’s going to come and torture your family like that child he kidnapped. Then I'll be happy.’ She kept going on about it. I don’t even know how she found out. So I got up and slapped her, pretty big understatement actually. I slapped her so she slapped me back. I punched her multiple times: 3 times in her stomach and twice in the face. She started bleeding and fell over so I started to kick her ribs and shit. I didn’t want to end up like my Dad so I stopped after I realised what I’d done. I didn’t help her up, enough people had gathered around anyway. I got drug away by 3 teachers and then the police came. I was in the police station for like 4 hours then they put me on tag for a month or two. I went back to school but Bobby was there. She didn’t come up to me but everybody else did to tell me how sick I was. They told me I was twisted and I deserved to be where my Dad was. I stayed there for another week until the bullying got really bad. I stopped going to school, but they’d expelled me anyway. Basically, that’s how it played out, but I before we moved here I went to counselling and such. The bullying was really bad – worse than it had been. I’ll admit, I was pretty messed up.”
He sat there and looked in shock at the little speech. Then his face twisted into a sympathetic mile. “Honestly, I would’ve done the same. But all bullying comes out of either jealousy or ignorance. People won’t try to get to know you or be nice to you. They’ll take one look at you: Your face, your clothes and what you’ve said and they’ll pretend they know everything about you. But only you know what really goes on.”
I don't like writing a lot of dialogue but this chapter required it so yeah. Thak for reading, anybody who did :3
Chapter Two
"You did NOT! I refuse to believe you!" He yelled when he reached the table I'd ran to in the dining hall. I slammed my fists on the table.
"What, do you want proof?"
"Maybe I do."
"Well you ain't getting any, faggot!"
He pouted and placed his hands on each side of his face and grunted. "I'm not a faggot."
"I know you're not."
"WELL WHY DID YOU CALL ME ONE?"
Smirking, I tapped my nose and giggled. "What lesson do you have next?"
"Geography, you?"
"Same." I sigh. This school was already driving me crazy. Geography in the morning and double maths in one day, it's not the best mix for an angsty, aggressive teenage girl on the verge of killing somebody. "I don't plan on going, though. Is there anything interesting around here?"
He pulled a face of though. "Nobody ever goes in the auditorium...we could go there."
I followed him through the hall until we reached a lards black door at the rear end of the school.
"It's sound proofed in here." He smirked and pulled the door open. It creaked close behind us as I stared at the thousands of seats in awe. The room was painted black and the stairs were covered in deep red carpet. A stage at least 5ft high stood out in the corner, with red curtains, huge speakers and rig lights.
“Wow! It’s like when I saw VersaEmerge.” I looked over to him and smirked. He strode of and ran up the stars to the stage. “Shut up about that! I still don’t believe you!” I followed him up the stairs. A piano sat in the furthest corner of the stage, the curtain at the back was draw. “Well you better.” Seriously, how menacing was I trying to be? I sounded like a 9 year old! “Ooh, a piano!” I’d spent almost 10 years learning to play, and I was pretty great at I, if I do say so myself. I waltzed over to it and pressed a few keys. “Dude, the room may be soundproofed, but you never know who’s gonna come in here!” He laughed at my liveliness. “Aw, come on! Do you ever have fun?” I said, sitting down on the stool and playing a few chords. He began to look nervous but sat down next to me anyway. I was just messing around with chords, trying to think of which song to play but finally, after a few minuets of thought I chose a song and began to play the right chords for it.
Bury all your secrets in my skin
Come away with innocence, and leave me with my sins
The air around me still feels like a cage
And love is just a camouflage for what resembles rage, again
This song had quickly become my favourite from Slipknot after my Grandma died. She’d say to me that she wanted me to sing at her funeral, so when I was 13, I decided to play this. Funnily enough, the song didn’t make me sad, if anything it actually made me happier. She had cancer and was in so much pain before she passed away. At the time it made me sad but now it reassured me that she wasn’t in pain anymore. Because she couldn’t feel anything. “Have I ever told you you’re really good at singing?” He said after I’d finished. I laughed a little bit then replied sarcastically. “No, I don’t think you have!” “Well you are, and a great pianist, too.” “Why thank you. I started playing 10 years ago, as a matter of fact.” He stood up and pulled me up with him but let go as soon as I stood up, then he pranced off a few feet.
He sat on the floor and patted it with his palm of his hand, signalling me to sit with him. “Franklin! Tell me more about you.” I said in the cheesiest voice possible.
“Well, that’s pretty easy. I live with both of my parent. I’m 15. I have 1 dog named Sinatra. I play guitar and sing…kind of. I plan on getting my whole body covered in tattoos and such. YOUR TURN!” He yelled. “I’m 15. I play piano and sing. I get upset really easily, which is something I wish I could control. I have a Monroe piercing. I have a stud in black, silver, purple and blue but I only ever wear one. I’ve been bullied for as long as I can remember and I guess that’s where all of my anger and rage comes from.”
Whilst biting his lip and ruffling his hair, he spoke: “So why did you get kicked out of your old school, again?”
“Oh…well it’s a long story, really. This girl – Bobby Aroway – had always been a little bitch. I think she had 3 friends, and even they didn’t like her. Still, it was 3 more friends than I had. Anyway, she would always spit at me and call me names. It sounds small, and yes, it was. But after 4 years you kind of get sick of it. So one day she decided to talk about my Dad. She said ‘You do know that you Dad’s gonna come out of prison and kill you. He’s going to come and torture your family like that child he kidnapped. Then I'll be happy.’ She kept going on about it. I don’t even know how she found out. So I got up and slapped her, pretty big understatement actually. I slapped her so she slapped me back. I punched her multiple times: 3 times in her stomach and twice in the face. She started bleeding and fell over so I started to kick her ribs and shit. I didn’t want to end up like my Dad so I stopped after I realised what I’d done. I didn’t help her up, enough people had gathered around anyway. I got drug away by 3 teachers and then the police came. I was in the police station for like 4 hours then they put me on tag for a month or two. I went back to school but Bobby was there. She didn’t come up to me but everybody else did to tell me how sick I was. They told me I was twisted and I deserved to be where my Dad was. I stayed there for another week until the bullying got really bad. I stopped going to school, but they’d expelled me anyway. Basically, that’s how it played out, but I before we moved here I went to counselling and such. The bullying was really bad – worse than it had been. I’ll admit, I was pretty messed up.”
He sat there and looked in shock at the little speech. Then his face twisted into a sympathetic mile. “Honestly, I would’ve done the same. But all bullying comes out of either jealousy or ignorance. People won’t try to get to know you or be nice to you. They’ll take one look at you: Your face, your clothes and what you’ve said and they’ll pretend they know everything about you. But only you know what really goes on.”
I don't like writing a lot of dialogue but this chapter required it so yeah. Thak for reading, anybody who did :3
Sign up to rate and review this story