Bulletboy-26th august 2006
Friday-26th august 09:00
I woke to the sound of metal pumping through the head phones this morning. It reminded me of all the gigs I used to go to it’s the only place I feel truly safe without you. Its not just about the music it’s the sense of community. You look around the room and you see people you have probably walked past in the street or the guy who served you chips last week and you see them in a new light. While your sat in your room drinking your problems away to sophomore slump or come back of the year so are they. When you cry to Ohio is for lovers because someone broke your heart so do they. When you celebrate with im not ok so do they. All the songs that have become the soundtrack to your life mean just as much to them. “Take your tears and put them on ice” make there heart beat faster too. and yes when they hear the words “joke me something awful just like kisses on the necks of just friends we are the kids who feel like dead ends and the poets are just kids who never made it and never had it at all” make them feel like someone has taken there diaries and read tem out loud. Musicians are a lot like writers they take everything you’ve ever felt and make it into something beautiful something that’s more than words more than a feeling. You sit on a bus or train or in your room and it feels like every song was written for or about you or worse you wish it was. They make you feel like you’re the only one that will ever hear it like its too personal for the public audio ………………so why does the whole room feel the same way? They promise you the world and deliver nothing but these “liars” helped me through most of my education it’s nice to feel someone understands or ……..felt the same as you, in a sort of sick and twisted way.
I would never wish how I feel on anyone.
In order for you to understand the following events I feel it’s necessary to start not with what happened when I arrived at Dominic wards house but what happened before that, two days to be exact.
I fell out of bed which was weird not only because I had gone 16 years without doing exactly that but because soon after opening my eyes I realised I had not fallen out of bed but off my sofa. Like a sharp pain it all came flooding back and I stood up shaking not because it was cold because it wasn’t, I was shaking with anger. Every night for the past six months which is roughly two weeks before the start of college I had the same dream. we are walking down past your parents house when a car pulls up along side us and the passenger door swings open you slide in next to the driver and he slips his hand around you’re waist. For six months this faceless stranger has stolen you away but that night he wasn’t just a faceless stranger he was Dominic .more real than anything I had ever dreamt. I was scared and angry all at once. How could he do this to me? Was he not satisfied with just breaking my brother’s heart did he have to steal mine as well.
I rode the metro into Manchester and once I arrived there I headed straight for the craft centre. Its a small shopping arcade full of arty shops ,a dress makers ,café and jewellers. I knew exactly what I wanted ,a thin silver band with a tiny delicate heart just off centre, id seen the way your eyes lit up last time you had spotted it. I walked over to the cabinet it was just as I remembered it, id even brought your bent and buckled gold ring you got on your eleventh birthday, a perfect cast of your finger. Id slipped it of when you were sleeping and I saw the way your heart sank when you thought you’d lost it but it had to be a secret and besides id give it back that night. But it didn’t work out like that did it?
So now you know my intensions ,im not just a mindless thug
That night I walked round to your house only to be told you were studying with a friend. I bumped my hip against my fathers car the way id seen him do it a thousand times and sure enough the door swung free. I climbed inside and slid my hand inside the glove box until my fingers reached the keys. I flung round corners and every time I stopped at lights I would reach into my hoodie and feel for the box. as I pulled into Dominic’s drive a low hum of indie music floated out of the open window followed by a laugh ………………..your laugh. The feeling came back to my legs and I rang the bell. After what felt like hours a dark silhouette appeared at the door and Dom popped his head round it. I cleared my throat and said what I had been rehearsing all the way there “is Skye there please?” after a second or two he laughed ,loudly throwing his head back. I breathed in the warm summer nights air and swallowed my pride “look mate I think we should put everything behind us! What do say? Friends?” my voice was shaky and I immediately hated myself, how could I betray Dallas like this? He looked at my out stretched hand and took it in his as soon as I had breathed a sigh of relief he tore the sleeve of my hoodie up arm revealing my wrist “ I had no idea you could tattoo over scars” he spat “your from a different world do her a favour and get over it…………………….me and her? Were meant to be together I told you she would come round eventually”. he stepped out from behind the door to show he was in nothing but a white t-shirt and black silk boxers a switch got flicked and I flipped out I pushed him to get into his house his strong arms held me back. He pulled me close like we were lovers or good friends and said “now don’t make me call the police I don’t think your mum could deal with too **** ups”. Tears stung my eyes and everything hit me at once. I opened my eyes and swung my fist, it hit him square in the nose sending him into the hall. he got up blood trickling all over the cream carpet he wiped his face on his hand and in the same second hit me in my mouth I could taste blood but I didn’t feel anything I swung again with the same result. he looked up from the floor his cheek slightly cut and his nose still pouring and even in this moment of triumph he managed to bring me back to earth with a bump “at least your dad taught you something” he said .his eyes lit up as my face crumpled he spat blood and smiled through his swollen lips. I turned around and ran my heart beating in my mouth as I got to the door I dropped the box and it hit the step and opened up to reveal the ring and the scroll of paper that contained the song.
This may only be a line in a song and I know im no curt cobain
Its only four cords and a chorus but I hope it won’t be in vain
I could be your Romeo if you’d only let me try
And you could be my Juliet but I won’t let you die
I don’t have much to offer just this simple song
And my love that I assure you is guaranteed life long
I’m just a broken heart from a broken home
Just a broken heart that’s scared to be alone
But I could be your Romeo if you’d only let me try
And you could be my Juliet but I won’t let you die
Bulletboy-30th august 2006
Tuesday-30th august 00:30
Sorry its been so long its nothing against you its just I spent a year trying to forget all this and now im dragging it all back up again.
When did I become so weak?
I used to think I couldn’t live without you like that weekend you went to Ireland, it’s been a year and im still here but id hardly call it living.
Weeks went by and rumours spread so quickly in college it was barley a month before I found out. The night you showed up at my house soaking from the summer showers your beautiful eyes red and swollen I didn’t know what to do. Here was the only person that understood me and I couldn’t even look you in the eye. You reached out and touched my cheek but just the thought of him touching you made my skin crawl and I turned away. “Isaac …” you started but I couldn’t let you finish I just stared at slither of skin visible between your top and your low slung jeans your pancake flat stomach that held more secrets than I ever wanted to know. A tear rolled down your cheek leaving a mascara trail I wanted nothing more than to reach over and wipe your face but my hand stayed in my pocket. Once you left I ran to the bathroom and threw up the guilt but nothing could get rid of the nasty after taste seeing you had left in my mouth.
After that I didn’t see you for five months and every day was more painful than the last. Sometimes I drove past your house late at night and watched your silhouette pace the length of your room.
I did help you in my own way, dropping money coincidently in your wake to help finance your expanding middle. I sat in your college car park ever morning, driving off just before you pulled up to make sure you had the closest space. I watched you grow from the sidelines and listened to the gossiping more intently than ever to find out how you were. But I never quiet managed to actually talk to you. I was the hooded stranger that stopped you from stepping into the road. I was the hand that held open a door, the arm that steadied you when you tripped. I just wasn’t the voice that comforted you when you cried.
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