Keep the Faith

Saviors Of The Broken, The Beaten, And The Damned

A girl watches out the window as the car drives through the night surrounded by other cars and the sound of the world at sleep.

She can’t sleep.

She can’t sleep for the excitement.

Besides.

She has somewhere to be tonight.

Somewhere she’s been waiting her whole life to get to.

Somewhere where she’s just another face, but that doesn’t matter to her.

She’s going for the music.

The pounding drums that echo her heart, the guitars that scream in her heart, and the dark lyrics that speak to her.

She goes for the music that she lives for, for the music that saved her.

Quite literally.

To her, they’re not just another bunch of faces.

They are her saviors.

They are her inspiration.

She closes her eyes and smiles in anticipation.

There soon.

Soon, the car will stop, and she will join them.

The car speeds up and the brakes whine a bit, a thin wailing cry.

It makes her frown.

Then it makes her remember.

All those people who have forgotten or who love the faces, not the music or don’t like what they stand for.

It makes her pissed.

Her band wasn’t about politics or what was right or wrong.

They were about music, and making a difference.

Saving lives like hers.

Saving them from suicide, and cyanide.

Saving them from themselves, and the darkness the human soul is capable of.

She isn’t one of those who forget, one of the teenies, or haters.

She loves the band, and what they do, represent.

She keeps the faith every day.

Another smile pulls at her lips.

The car slows and her eyes snap open.

They’re here.

She jumps out, the night air and exhaust hitting her lungs, and the rain giving her goosebumps, but she doesn’t care.

She runs to the stand, hands in her ticket, and is admitted.

She shoves to the front, not caring who she knocked over.

She clutches the cold rail as the rain runs down her face.

The house lights dim and everyone surges forward as they take the stage.

The band.

Her band.

Her saviors.

The saviors of the broken, the beaten, and the damned.

Screams start as they take their positions and the singer takes the mic.

“Scream for me!"

The crowd obliges.

"Who are we?"

The crowd screams with him.

"We are MY…CHEMICAL…ROMANCE!”
♠ ♠ ♠
I know it's short and I don't think it's very good, but I came up with it in an hour, so.

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