"Summer has gone and passed, the innocent can never last."
"Wake me up when September ends."
"Like my father's come to pass.."
Those six words exiting my lips, it made me cringe. Taking a deep breath and swallowing the lump in my throat. Tears starting to well up in my eyes.
C'mon sweetie, you can't possibly cry this early in the song. You're so weak, such a frail, terrible 17 year old girl.
The voices in my head forcing me to lift my head back and pull back the tears. Having to apologise to the audience in front of me. Whilst I was readjusting the white guitar on my lap, I noticed the black marker on the front. Taking me back to the days it was signed by Billie Joe Armstrong. I let a small smile form on my lips. Hearing the cough of a slightly old man, I snapped back to reality. Bringing my fingers to meet the right cords. I began to restart 'Wake Me Up When September Ends' by Green Day. One of the only bands that kept me sane. I yet to get FOBs signatures. A couple minutes later, I finished the song with a couple tears flowing freely from my eyes.
I opened my eyes for the first time throughout the whole song, my mouth dropped as I noticed every single person on their feet. Their hands coming together like an earthquake. I darted my gaze towards a short, young looking boy at the back of the bar. He had curly, shoulder length hair. His small lips holding onto a snug smirk. He didn't look at all familiar, but yet I felt I recognised him. My little gig was over so I quickly slipped my guitar into its case and ran out the front of the bar. The curly haired man was getting into the back of a car the second I got outside. I small frown forming upon my lips as I let out a deep sigh.
With the little money left in my pocket, I decided I'd walk home instead of getting a taxi. My small, homley house was only a couple blocks down anyways. It was about midnight when I got to my door. I opened it and walked into the living room to find my mum passed out on the couch. There was a deck of smokes on the table, me only being 17, I saw the opportunity and threw them in my bag. I couldn’t buy them myself and knew no one that could. So I had to take them. She was always too high to notice anyways. There were a couple small bags of weed laying on the floor. Nothing new. Darting up the stairs and into my room I gently shut the door softly, not wanting to wake the nightmare sleeping downstairs. I took my guitar out of its case and placed it on the stand next to my desk. Taking a quick glance at my massive pile of books on my desk, I sighed heavily and fell nicely onto my bed. I looked like crap but I was too tired to function.
I play gigs at this local bar in my town to get money. Just me, my guitar and my idols songs. It’s hard to get any money off my mum, she always spends the last of it on pot. Pathetic, really. I despised her for that. My sister passed away a couple months ago, not knowing how, let alone even knowing her. She had cut me out of her life. Not wanting to ever see me again. I don’t miss her. Not one bit. She’s a fucking rat. She killed my fucking dad. She might’ve been my sister, but I’ve never accepted her. It’s too hard. Rumours are she killed herself when she was in prison. I couldn’t care less how she died to be honest. She’s nothing but a terrible memory. But my dad, he died seven years ago today. I miss him every second. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of him. His funeral is one of those I could never forget. Stuck in the back of my mind, it haunts me in my sleep. My cheeks flushing red at the thought of my dad’s funeral. I let out loud harsh sobs. Sitting up, looking at my mirror dead on. I look like crap. I decided to get up and have a shower. I walked into my bathroom, starting the water and removing my clothes as I’m left staring at my body in my underwear.
I dragged my finger gently across the scar that cradles the side of my neck. My thoughts trailed off to the night my dad died. Also known as the night everything was too much. I could remember the last scream that left his mouth, like it happened yesterday. His voice getting quieter, and quieter. I snapped back to reality and quickly checked the waters temperature. Of course, I hadn’t turned on the cold water. The hot water piercing my skin. It soon getting used to the pain. I turned on the cold water faster than you could say ouch. I tried clenching my hand into a ball, as I winced I stepped into the shower. The water feeling perfect against my skin.
I sat on the edge of my bed, with my guitar on my lap. I strummed a little, using my old, splitting pick. Yes, I’ve been using the same pick for so many years that at any time it will break in half. I set my guitar next to my bed as I lay down and drifted into a deep sleep.
“I’ll find you when the sun goes black.”
I opened my eyes, my ceiling blurry. I was quick to turn off my alarm and get on a fresh pair of clothes. I applied my usual amount of makeup. Concealer, eyebrows, fuck ton of eyeliner, mascara and some bronzer. I was the palest person ever. I looked at my reflection in the full length mirror, feeling sick at the sight. I was wearing my red plaid skinny jeans, black converse and the usual black studded crewneck.
I grabbed my black denim bag and threw it over one shoulder. Putting my smokes and lighter into my jumpers pocket, my phone into my jeans pocket and earphones into my ears. Obviously. With Fall Out Boy blasting, I rushed downstairs and grabbed my skateboard from the front porch. Oh sweet, no one stole it this time. Pushing myself on the board as fast as I could, I finally caught sight of the hell hole. I walked the rest of the way to my locker. I walked relatively fast, trying to ignore the people pushing me. Once I reached my locker, I shoved my bag and board inside. I quickly grabbed a couple of my notebooks and my pen. The halls were empty, shit. I was late. My Calculus teacher was a harsh motherfucker. Oh, you’re 2 seconds late? Sorry hun, detention. So you dropped your pen? Sweetie that’s an afterschool detention. What’s that? You need to pee? Haha, 2 day suspension. Lost in my thoughts I ran into someone. Falling backwards and landing my ass, I dropping my notebooks all over the floor.
“Ugh fuck me, sorry about that.” I looked up to find a short but tall boy in a leather jacket, a Nirvana shirt and black skinny jeans. Hm, interesting. Looking at his face, I recognised his hair. From last night. Dark brown, shoulder length curls. It was him, the new kid, I thought I recognised him.
“It’s fine.” He stood awkwardly, looking like he didn’t know what to do. He hesitantly put his hand beside my shoulder, gesturing for me to grab it. I took his hand and got to my feet. I felt my pocket and noticed my smokes were gone. “Fuck.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine I just.” I spotted my deck and quickly ran to pick it up. I felt the boys gaze on me the whole time. “You smoke?”
“Sure do. Look, if you’re gonna lecture me about how bad it is please just save it.”
“I wasn’t I- “ He blushed and looked at his feet, I found it strangely adorable. I put my finger under his chin and lifted his head so that we were looking into each others eyes. His eyes were rimmed with black eyeliner I assume, it was smudged nicely and went well. His lip was pierced with a small silver ring. So was his nose. He had two scars on his eyebrow, clearly having it pierced at one point. “Go on.”
“I um, I smoke too so..” His voice getting quiet as he came to the end of his sentence. Turning his head to look somewhere else. His cheeks were still red, half of his face covered by his black fringe. I must admit, I really like his hair. It suited him nicely. Checking the time on my phone I realised I was 10 minutes late to my class. I was definitely going to get a suspension for that one. The boy apologised once and turned away. I grabbed his arm, not harshly, just soft enough to get his attention. “What’s your name?” He opened his mouth and then shut it again. Like he was unsure.
“I’m Harry, and you?”
“Chrissi.Chrissi Wyatt” He repeated my name, in a deep husky tone. It sounded extremely alluring coming from his pink lips. “Nice name, I like it.”
“Thanks, you too. Hey um, do you wanna skip this class with me?” He nodded slightly and began walking beside me. We walked in silence for a couple minutes and showed up at an empty park. I took a seat on a park bench and gestured for Harry to sit with me. I pulled out a smoke and lit it, slowly pulling it from my lips and exhaling the smoke into the air. Looked over to Harry noticing his eyes fixed on my lips, then my cigarette, then to my eyes. “Do you want one?”
He nodded in my direction and took a cigarette from the box. I handed him the lighter and watched him also as he lit it. The way he hollowed his cheeks look amazing, it stunned me how I could never do it myself. He looked down at his lap before exhaling. “I like the way you smoke.” He mumbled under his breath, I could barely catch a thing he said. “Sorry?”
He looked at me and then back to his lap, taking another drag of his cigarette. “I said, I like the way you play.”
“Last night, at the bar, how you played the guitar and sang the songs. It was nice.”
“Oh, thank you. I tried to catch up to you afterwards but-“ I was cut off by the sound of a familiar voice I know far too well.
“Ah look, it’s the emo slut. Another guy I see?” I sighed and put my feet on the edge of the bench, burring my face into my knees. I could feel Harry's stare burning my back. “Aw is the little emo out of words to say? Cat got ya tongue sweetie?” My eyes began to water and a tear rolled down my cheek.
“Hey Chrissi! Why don’t you go cut yourself you emo faggot.”
“Don’t you have anything else to say?” I felt the pressure of Harry's arm against mine disappear. His voice strong and confident.
“Oh, you have backup? Can’t battle your own fights, hey, princess?” There was a small pause, then the smashing sound of skin and a soft murmured ‘fuck’ escape someone’s mouth. “You’re out of this one this time, sugar.” His voice sounding harsh, deep and threatening.
I looked up and saw Bailey, my high school bully, clutching his face and walking away. Frank then joining me once again. “W-what did you do?”
“Punched him.” Harry took my lighter and re lit his cigarette. Looking attractive as hell. He had this edge to him, his look was dark, he was shy but strong and confident. There was something about this boy that I needed to know. In fact, no one, and when I say no one I mean no one, has ever stood up to Bailey like that. He was always the one to throw the punches. I wrapped my arms around Harry's thin body and whispered a small ‘thank you’ into his chest. “Don’t thank me.” His chest vibrating as he spoke, it sent me shivers down my spine.
We both separated as we heard the bell ring letting us know its Lunch.
“We should probably head to cafeteria now.”
I went along with my day skipping classes with Harry and loving every last minute of it. He was still keeping finding it hard to make eye contact with me, I was chill with it but he kept apologising. He does this thing with his nose which I find so adorable. He’s a great kid. Harry. Beautiful. . If I do say so myself, this is the start of a lovely friendship.