Keep the Faith

Abnormal.

Three syllables.

Eight letters.

Three vowels.

Five consonants.

And something, she's felt numerous times.

She had friends, lots of them.She didn't talk, at all. And was considered a mute to most, but some people liked that about her. "Its good cause, your someone who listens" is what the teacher's would say. Most teacher's liked her, and said that she was a good student, who never got in trouble, nor caused it. She was always on time, always turned homework in, never back-talked to the teachers, and always said "Yes ma'am" and "No sir".

The worst thing she did that year, was when she asked someone for a pencil during SOL's, and was sent to the principle's office.

That didn't make her dad very happy.

When she got home, her dad was furious. He calls her names:

Stupid.
Worthless.
Fat.
Freak.
Weirdo.
Ugly.
Emo.
Shit.

FAILURE

That was the worst one. It wasn't a swear, but she treated it as though it was. Because she never got an F on a report card, never failed a class...that was the only thing that caught her off guard.

Every.

Single.

Time.

So when she'd go upstairs into her room, she'd stare out her window. She'd see all the kids from her school, the ones who like her cause she listens, and wonder...

When they come home, what do their parents say?
Why is it, I'm here, and not there?
Do they have to live in constant fear, that someone will find out?

That someone will find out, why she's so quiet.

So it is here, that she is not safe. She can sit in her room, but she will not cry. Because, in a world where, people cry and cut, and burn themselves, you need someone to keep it in. To hold it in their hands, and swallow it, and never let it out.

If you never talk, you don't have to share.

Don't think the torment stopped there. She gets it everywhere. When she goes to the bathroom, her brother is calling her "Stupid, freak show, get a life". When she's brushing her teeth, her youngest brother calls her, "A fat ugly pig". Her oldest brother, won't say anything though, he's playing a game, in which he has no time for his little sister.

It still hurts her, just as bad.

But when she comes to school, she'll smile to her friends. She won't talk, but she'll listen. She doesn't have an opinion, but she'll listen. She doesn't gossip, but she'll listen. She just sits there, hoping school would last longer than it always does. Hoping, she wouldn't come home, to brother's who call her names and one who doesn't do anything, to her father who has his way, and his way only, to her mother, who treats her as though she's an ignorant child.

Her mother.
It doesn't get better from there.

Most mother's have problem's having their child dressing in revealing outfits, her mother has problems getting her to try on revealing outfits. She won't wear a bathing suit, because she can feel rolls on her stomach, and her thigh's jiggle when she walks. Her mother says to her, "Your like a nun, its just a skirt and tank top". But its more than that, because, her mother is the reason why she won't wear revealing clothes.

"I can see your roll coming out of jeans, you need to lose some weight"
"Just stop eating rice and eggs so much"
"Start working out for three hours a day, its healthy"
"I don't see why your so depressed, if you lose a few pounds...
You'll be BEAUTIFUL"

Beautiful.
She used to feel that way,
But because she's fat...
She isn't anymore.

So you see, when those kids get picked on at school. Someone can stop them, someone can tell them to "Back the fuck off" but not for this girl.
When she comes home, she's by herself, no one to say "I love you" or tell her she's unique and beautiful in her own way.

No one.

No one to stand up for her.

When this man came, and he wrapped his arms around her, and he whispered in her ear, "I'll take care of everything, you don't need to worry, everything will be...okay" he hugged her tightly, even though she couldn't see him. She felt safe in his arms, though they felt secure, even if it was a stranger.

No one had ever spoken to her like this, it was...comforting.

When she walked to her home, she still heard the insults, all the words and swears she desperately fought to keep out, as though she was drowning in water too deep to see the surface, so all you could see was black, not knowing how much longer you have left. It was tight, and though she could breathe, she didn't want to waste the last bit of life that was so rightfully hers slip away so easily...

The Listener is now The Fighter.

She did what she always did, took it in her hand, and swallowed it. Never letting it out, and never shedding a single tear stroke her broken, sullen face...

Because she's strong like that.

So if she wanted to kill, she Brought Bullets, if she wanted to hurt, she helped Sweet Revenge, and when she couldn't breathe, she lived in The Black Parade.

Hopefully, she'll find her niche, her place to be, and she'll learn, she can Stay.

But when she finds The Bullets, brings Revenge, and lives in The Black Parade, she isn't strong anymore. Her iron shield she fights so hard for, because she's a fighter, has melted away, and reduced to nothing but her clean, and pristine self.

She lets the tears roll, and feels them surrounding her, feels them in her presence, knowing that their there, even when their not. "We just want you to know, its okay to cry, just let us be the shoulder to cry on", she knows their not there...physically, but when she wants to kill, hurt, or breathe, she knows where to turn.

She isn't a failure, she's a fighter.

Which is why, you should be one too.
When you can't cry because you have to be strong,
When your not allowed to be yourself, be free,
When you can't have your way, even when you need it...

You have them.
You have a Fighter too,
You don't see it now,
But its there...

If he made it through...
If they made it through...

Then,

So.

Can.

I.

"So many kids have come up and told us that there are things in their (lives) that have been destroyed and from our thirty-five minute set they have figured some things out. If we can do that to one kid a night, we're done."-Frank Iero