Writing Words To The Music In Her Head

I sat down in the back seat and put on my phones. The music of Operation Ivy blared into my ears. I sat back and enjoyed it.
That would be the only thing that would be like it used to be. Everything would be different from now on, except my music. I was so happy that music was invented, without it I'd be seriously screwed.

Not that it always had done me good. My dad and most teachers liked me less because of it. But I couldn't help who I was, could I? Just because I had different interests than the other kids it wasn't like I didn't give a shit about School or didn't care about my future.
I wanted to have a good future, and I behaved well. Sure, I played the guitar and went to shows, but how bad is that? I had never been drunk or wouldn't smoke anyway. So just because I didn't stay home and talked in the phone for hours like most girls or hung out at a mall, people just assumed I was different and that different was bad. I sighed to myself.

My brother, Frank, was all my dad wanted him to be. He wore the clothes our family bought for him for Christmas and birthdays, and he stepped in line. He was the class president, and the principal only made him come to his office to encourage him to do even better in School.
When I went to the principals office, it was because they asked me how I felt and if I did any drugs.

Life was shit.

At the same time, I loved my brother. He wasn't just a good student and son, he was a kick ass-brother too. He introduced me to the music I listened to, even though no one would believe he liked punk rock. He always encouraged me for who I was and about my looks. And the un-responsible side of his was hilarious. He was fucked in the head, I could tell. He always came with the most unexpected jokes and comments when we talked about something.
When I was angry at our dad or something, he'd always make me laugh, even if I didn't want to. He was actually my only friend.

Now you think that I'm bullied and stuff, but I'm really not. Sure, I could spend time with some people I met at a show, but those friendships never lasted. They were all so fake, and they'd always think that I was a wussy for not drinking or smoking. That was what made them leave me. I refused to step in line and give in to any sort of peer pressure. I didn't even want to be like everyone else, even though it was tough being on my own sometimes.

I put my phones of.

”Aren't you kids excited?” Dad exclaimed. ”This is going to be so much fun!”

He was so excited. His big dream had always been to move to California, and now his dream was finally fulfilled. I guess I should be happy for him, but I really wasn't.

Frank made a face at me and I smiled. He was the best dad-imitator ever. He could even make his voice high-pitched and angry, like when he screamed ”SARAH!” just because I was suspected to have spray-painted on the School buildings. I had never done anything like that, but sometimes they just gave me detention to have someone to blame.
I had to suffer because they were too stupid to understand that it was the preppy girls at School that did stuff like that. Not that I complained. The more time I had from home, the better. And I needed to study in School. It was just more time in School, gosh. It wouldn't make me cry and beg to be taken home.
People were stupid.

The only thing that was disturbing about it was that I knew I didn't deserve it. It was unfair. I had good grades and a good-looking future, just like those preppy girls Miranda and Michelle. But just because they wouldn't ever get near a Misfits-shirt they were supposed better people than I was.
I sighed.

Frank tapped on my shoulder.

”What's up?” I asked.

”Why are you upset?” He shot a concerned look.

He was always so concerned for me. Well, I was after all his baby-sister. Not that I was a 'baby' anymore, I was 16. Oh well... Stupid word. Baby sister.

”I'm not upset”, I answered.

”Oh, come on. I know you are! You're sighing and frowning.”

I raised an eyebrow.

”I'm just tired.” I hated moving.

”I don't like that we're going to change School either y'know”, he whispered. ”It sucks.”

I glanced up at his blue, sincere eyes. And he spoke with such a low voice. He didn't want to disappoint dad. Who wanted that, after all? I did everything in my power not to upset him. I made him angry just by existing, it seems.
Frank was supposed to be the realistic, older brother. He had two baby sisters to take care of, and he couldn't show his anger at any time. Sure, he talked to me about it, but he never showed it to dad. It was like he was afraid of him.
I knew he wasn't, though. He was just being the perfect son. I felt sorry for him. He never did what he really wanted.

”It sucks”, I agreed.

I hadn't changed Schools before in my whole life. We had moved a couple of time before but never this far. It was really sad.
Not that I'd miss anything else but the awesome club where cool rock bands came to play... But it was sad anyway. I grew up in that area.
It had so many memories. My mother died when I was six years old, but I couldn't remember her. What I remembered about it was Frank's and dad's hurt looks whenever I brought her up in a conversation, or our little sister Kim said she wanted a mom.

Yeah, that was our sad story. I thought we were fine with just our dad, but I guess my parents had been in love when she passed away.

Something the really bothered me was when dad said that he was worried that I was 'the way I was' because I didn't have a female role model in my life, and that he was worried that the same would happen to Kim... What the fuck? Frank was fine and he hadn't a 'female role model' in his life either! Stuff like this made me want to kill someone, seriously. I was fine too, why didn't anyone else realize it? Maybe I was just being too confident. Maybe I was fucked in the brain. But my grades were good anyways, so why did everyone complain?

I looked out the window and watched trees, houses and people pass by on the other side of the window. We would arrive at our new place at any seconds. The thought made my heart skip a beat.

As my thoughts wandered off to how unfair my life was again, the car stopped outside a small house. Kim and Frank ran went outside immediately. I took my last breath as a New Jersey-girl and opened the door, and took my first breath as a California-chic.

“The California-air”, dad breathed and smiled to us. “Don't you love it?”

Silence.

“I like it, dad!” Kim exclaimed and threw herself around his neck.

He smiled warmly and Frank and I couldn't do anything but just nod in agreement. Even if we didn't like it, we couldn't let it show. Dad loved this place already, and I for one didn't want to destroy his happiness. Even though he liked to destroy mine.

*

After have taken a look around the house, I went to explore my own room. The only good thing about moving was that I wouldn't have to share my room with Kim anymore, and that was a great relief. I hated sharing rooms with her, cause she always had her gross little friends there. And of course they thought I was SO COOL and wanted to play with me all the time.

Well, now it would be different. I opened the door and saw my room. I took a step inside and looked around.
The place was pretty nice. Not really big, but enough for me. The wallpaper was in a fading yellow color and the skirting-board was white. There was a big window with a view over the garden and my bed was already placed by one of the walls. I decided I liked it. This was my place. And it would stay that way.

I sighed to myself and walked towards the window. I looked out.
Our garden was kind of big, actually. There were trees that Kim would love to climb in (yeah, she was more of a monkey than human) and beautiful roses. They'd probably die under our supervision, but right now they looked beautiful. I smiled to myself when I thought of the money I'd earn by mowing the lawn, and the concerts I'd pay for.
If they even had a place like that around here. I had no idea. The Knitting Factory used to be the best place I knew. What would top that? Nothing.

I didn't want to feel depressed. I lay down on the bed and imagined my first day in the new School. I tried to convince myself that it'd all work out fine, but I was scared.

Everyone would think I was weird. Everyone. Like in my last School.
But in my last School, people had grown to ignore me, because they already knew that I was a girl out of the excitement. I wouldn't embarrass myself, and I would defiantly not care if someone told me that I was weird.
The people on the new School didn't know that about me yet, and this first testing week scared the hell out of me.

I hoped they'd be gentle.