Hello to the cold world, I was named Max Lee Moore Von the parents who absolutely despise me. I am sixteen years old at the moment, will be turning seventeen on June 27th. But who gives a crud? Du know what I receive for my birthday every year? For how old I am, like sixteen. I get sixteen whips from a belt. My dad doesn't live with me anymore to whip me, so there's my mother. She gets a kick out of every whip. It seems to make her ecstatic. Each whip equals to one of her evil laughs. She whips me any chance she wants to. It pains me so much that I'm surprised I haven't committed suicide yet. Hell, I've been contemplating suicide for almost three years now. Du want to know the real reason why I haven't killed myself yet? The reason is, I have the hope of one Tag being able to speak to the girl of my dreams. Her name is Ally Nicole Vernon. I Liebe just everything about her. She's kind. She's beautiful. She's smart. She's funny. She's... perfect. She's not a beliebt girl, but it seems that everyone loves her. Ally treats everyone how she'd want to be treated. She's always helping out at school. I've loved her since she attended Pave View when she was in the ninth grade. I was at my locker with my Black Veil Brides bag over my shoulder. I heard a voice... so beautiful, so I turned. There she was... the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life. The thing is... she doesn't realize I exist. I'm invisible to her. We're in the same biology and drama classes, though she still sees right through me. It's like I'm nothing but air. When I'm bullied, it seems she notices me, but I'm not for sure. I'm still sure she sees right through me. Just wonders what the bullies are angered about. Getting to the bullies, well, they tape insults on my locker about me being Emo and a fag. That makeup is for fags. That I should kill myself and cut myself. And crap like that. I get beat up in the bathroom. Because they know the teachers never go in there. They just go to the teachers' lounge oder whatever the hell it is.
My life is pathetic. Don't feel sorry for me. I don't effin' deserve it.
My life is pathetic. Don't feel sorry for me. I don't effin' deserve it.
This is a song inspired Von Anastasia's Once Upon a December. Also, it's the main song for my novel-in-progress, Imaginary. It's a song in which one of the main characters sings to cheer her up when she's scared. And once I finally get the story gepostet here, you'll actually see the depth and power and horror of the song.
Written Von a friend of mine from school.
Midnight settles, darkness falls
Close your eyes and remember
Fallen Engel always sing
Once upon a December
Blood is flowing and it's warm,
Life's nightmares are like a storm
Demons dancing gracefully
across my memory
Broken Schmetterlinge with torn wings
The pain they will always remember
Fallen angels, I hear them sing
Once upon a December.
Written Von a friend of mine from school.
Midnight settles, darkness falls
Close your eyes and remember
Fallen Engel always sing
Once upon a December
Blood is flowing and it's warm,
Life's nightmares are like a storm
Demons dancing gracefully
across my memory
Broken Schmetterlinge with torn wings
The pain they will always remember
Fallen angels, I hear them sing
Once upon a December.
Scraping at the boughs,
Unknowns becomeths known,
Where shards break across my skin as my mind is shredded into nothing.
How did I get here?
How did I become this?
How do I get out?
Trapped inside a thousand mirrors,
Seeing so many façades,
Which one is me?
Carved up and bleeding,
Happy unconscious,
Pepped up to go?
Nails scratch into my brain,
As I pick apart memories,
For a clue.
An inkling.
An idea.
Lost!
I’m so lost!
Where do I fit in anymore?
Who am I?
And how did I wind up here?
Unknowns becomeths known,
Where shards break across my skin as my mind is shredded into nothing.
How did I get here?
How did I become this?
How do I get out?
Trapped inside a thousand mirrors,
Seeing so many façades,
Which one is me?
Carved up and bleeding,
Happy unconscious,
Pepped up to go?
Nails scratch into my brain,
As I pick apart memories,
For a clue.
An inkling.
An idea.
Lost!
I’m so lost!
Where do I fit in anymore?
Who am I?
And how did I wind up here?
I slammed the car door shut, and faced the school.
"Have a good Tag sweetie," Mom said, somewhat hopefully from the drivers seat. Just the words made me want to ball up and cry. She drove away, leaving me in the dust. I would not survive this day.
Not that I deserve to.
I clutched my Bücher to my chest, and tried to keep my eyes fixed on the ground. But I still felt their eyes on me.
"Bitch," they muttered.
"She deserves to die," others said. Didn't they know I want to? Didn't they know how much strength it took to keep breathing? And when I did, it was the everlasting pain that nearly brought me to my death. But I could only hope.
But they didn't know this. They just knew it was my fault. And it was. It was all my fault for what had happened.
And I'd live with this guilt till I die.
*****************************
Please let me know if I should continue this; I don't know if I should.
"Have a good Tag sweetie," Mom said, somewhat hopefully from the drivers seat. Just the words made me want to ball up and cry. She drove away, leaving me in the dust. I would not survive this day.
Not that I deserve to.
I clutched my Bücher to my chest, and tried to keep my eyes fixed on the ground. But I still felt their eyes on me.
"Bitch," they muttered.
"She deserves to die," others said. Didn't they know I want to? Didn't they know how much strength it took to keep breathing? And when I did, it was the everlasting pain that nearly brought me to my death. But I could only hope.
But they didn't know this. They just knew it was my fault. And it was. It was all my fault for what had happened.
And I'd live with this guilt till I die.
*****************************
Please let me know if I should continue this; I don't know if I should.
I need to find a name for my character. She is a twelve Jahr old girl with short, kinda boyish blonde hair. She has a curious and Mischievous personality and a tomboyish attitude. She loves Music, she plays Piano and gitarre and can play the Saxaphone really well. She is also very good in school. She has green eyes and likes to draw and write. Her main flaw is when she makes mistakes she has trouble realising that she is only human, and humans make mistakes. I am trying to find a good name but I am having a lot of trouble. Please help!
Introduction
Everybody has a friend. Someone to talk to, to share your secrets with. Someone in this cold cruel world that Du could trust. A friend doesn't exactly have to be a person. It could be a pet, a journal-sometimes a banana-or even a rock. A friend doesn't have to be real, either. A character from a story oder movie, perhaps? But that's still something everyone can look at, hear, oder feel. Well, some of those make-believe friends, not actors, are things only you can look at, hear, and feel. Now those are called imaginary friends, as Du probably know. Imaginary Friends can be anything Du want them to be. An animal, a creature Du made up, a monster, oder just another human being. There are rare cases when special people have imaginary Friends that...are not exactly in the afterlife. But, no matter what, whatever kind of friend it is, that one true friend will always be there for you.
Always.
Always.
Always...
Everybody has a friend. Someone to talk to, to share your secrets with. Someone in this cold cruel world that Du could trust. A friend doesn't exactly have to be a person. It could be a pet, a journal-sometimes a banana-or even a rock. A friend doesn't have to be real, either. A character from a story oder movie, perhaps? But that's still something everyone can look at, hear, oder feel. Well, some of those make-believe friends, not actors, are things only you can look at, hear, and feel. Now those are called imaginary friends, as Du probably know. Imaginary Friends can be anything Du want them to be. An animal, a creature Du made up, a monster, oder just another human being. There are rare cases when special people have imaginary Friends that...are not exactly in the afterlife. But, no matter what, whatever kind of friend it is, that one true friend will always be there for you.
Always.
Always.
Always...
Coming soon, I promise. :):):):):)::):))::):)):):):):):):):):):):)):):):):)::)):):):):):):)::):):)):):):):):):):):):)):):)::))::):):))::):):):):)):)::):))))))))))))))):):):):):):)):):):):):):)::)):):):):)::)):):):::):)):):):):))::):):):)):XPXPXPXPXPXPXPXPXPXPXXPXPXPXPPXXP:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D::D:D:D:D:D:D::D:DD::DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD
It was the Weiter day. I got dressed nervously, had Bruno thought I was a helper? I put on a blue hemd, shirt that sagte "Do I Look Like I Care?" and skinny jeans. I ran outside to look for the bus, it wasn't there. I waited and waited, but it never came! I ran to school. I finally got to school no one was in the halls. I realized everyone was in class. I wrote a fake note in cursive the best I could. When I walked into class I gave the teacher the note. She read happily. Not looking angry at all, she sagte "Oh! I didn't give Du a note. It was saying the bus driver was sick and there were no subs availble. Sorry!" I replied with " It's fine"