Painful Lullaby

Each time I went to the park, it made me sad. Seeing all the happy families playing together was something that I never got to experience. After my dad completely removed himself from my and my mom's life, we both changed. My mom became very frustrated all the time; any little thing could set her off. So I avoided her, and in turn I became withdrawn. I wasn't accepted by my peers at school, so I made myself stand out by wearing 'emo' clothes. There were a few other girls who had similar problems, and we ended up becoming friends.

The wind picked up a little and along with it came the sound of screaming. Not a scared scream, an intentional scream. I followed this scream until I came to the small band shell. There were four guys playing, the banner behind them proudly declaring their name to be "Broken Heart Remedy."

This really caught my attention. It wasn't every day that there was a screamo band playing. They usually had some off-key country singer who couldn't hit a note if their cowboy hat was exploding.

I joined the few people who were sitting on the ground. I was captivated by this band. They had more energy than many of the bands I'd seen play lately. And they were gorgeous. They all had awesome hair and amazing clothes. Their songs were as catchy as Escape the Fate's. As a matter of fact, they even covered on of their songs, and pulled it off wonderfully.

After 3 of their songs, the singer announced "Thanks guys, but our time is over!" Everyone had cleared out before I had time to clear my head. I knew I should move, since the next band was setting up, and looked a hundred times worse than the previous. I stood up, and slowly started to head over to sit under my favorite tree.

"Hey, are you okay?"

I turned to see the gorgeous singer from Broken Heart Remedy chasing after me.

"Y-yeah. I mean, I will be after I get a cigarette and some coffee." I replied.

"Hang on, right here," he said, and started chasing after one of his bandmates.

"Donny! You got a cigarette?" He yelled.

"Yeah, but since when do you smoke?" Donny asked.

"It's not for me...it's for her." He jerkily motioned at me.

"Oh, okay dude." Donny grinned, and pulled out a cigarette and and a lighter and handed it to the singer, who then rushed back to me.

"Here you are. Now follow me," he demanded, handing me the cigarette and lighter.

"Thanks, and where are we going?" I asked.

"I'm getting you some coffee. And by the way, you don't look old enough to smoke," he pointed out.

"I'm not."

"Alright, and how old are you?

"Fourteen, and how old are you?"

"I'm sixteen. What's your name?"

"Roxie."

"You can call me Jag."

"Nice to meet you, Jag."

"Let me help you with your bags."

"No."

"I insist."

I sighed loudly, and handed him my Skelanimals bag. He held out his hand, waiting for the other one. I rolled my eyes, and handed him my messenger bag. We walked in silence for a few minutes, not saying anything until Jag led me into a yard that I assumed was his. I dropped my cigarette and ground it into the grass.

"Is this your house?" I asked.

"Yeah." He answered, pulling a key out of his pocket and opening the door.

"I don't think your parents want me in your house."

"Good thing they're on a business trip, now isn't it?"

He held the door open for me, and I walked in, admiring his house. It wasn't small, but it wasn't big. It was two stories tall, and looked like a nice place.

"This place is nice," I complimented.

"Thanks. You can have a seat at the table right there while I fix us some coffee. Do you like yours sweetened or black?" He asked.

"Sweetened."

I watched him as he busied himself in the kitchen. His hair was black with a blonde streak in it, and it shone in the dim afternoon light. He wore a purple t-shirt with 'The Birthday Massacre' written on it in a rainbow of colors. His skinny jeans clung to him in all the right places and were the neon blue ones you could buy at Hot Topic. His black Converse were customized with green laces, and there were little pictures drawn on the rubber toe part. He looked over at me and smiled.

"So I seen you come sit down. It was kinda scary to see someone so covered in blood. Do you feel okay?" He asked, and as he turned to me, I could see he had a lip ring.

"I feel as okay as someone as bloody as me could feel," I retorted.

"Well," he started, bringing me my coffee, "after you drink this, you should probably take a shower, and I could wash your clothes for you." He blushed when he said it.

"Well, by your red face, I can see this isn't some trick to get in my pants, so I guess I'd be okay with that. I think I need a good shower."

We sipped our coffee in silence, the air around us was tense.

"I'd really like you to tell me how you got that much blood on you."