We Can Make Something Beautiful

“What do you mean I can’t go to Warped Tour? I already have tickets, and Acid is coming with me. You can’t make me stay here forever, I’m turning 18 today. I’m an adult, I can make my own decisions.”

Today is July 24th, the day of Warped Tour in my state, and my parents weren’t letting me go. They were giving me every reason under the sun as to why I couldn’t go. All of my favorite bands were going, All Time Low, Pierce The Veil, Of Mice and Men, Chelsea Grin, and even better…Black Veil Brides.

“I’m not letting you go with Elizabeth because this place is dangerous. You could get hurt, or thrown into one of those….circly things,” my mother said, grabbing my hand. I snatched it away and glared at her.

“It’s called a mosh pit. And her name is Acid. Not Elizabeth.”

Acid was my best friend, I met her in grade 4, and ever since then, we had stuck to each other like glue. We bonded over the typical boy things, monster trucks, race cars, and all things gross and creepy. We never ever wore dresses, it was poison to us. In grade 10, we had decided to change our names. Hers being Acid, mine being Blade. It was the equivalent to dolls and Barbies for us. Because of it, we were excluded, never invited to the other girls’ parties or events. Naturally, we rolled with it, joking and calling ourselves the Outcasts.

The Outcasts lasted all through high school together, and after graduating, we made a pact to go to Warped together. We would see all of our favorite bands, especially Black Veil Brides. That was Acid and I’s main source of bonding. We liked the same music, none of this hip hop, rap, or even bubblegum pop music. No, we liked heavy guitars and drums, screaming to the point that we couldn’t understand them.

This was our day, our day to finally blend in, be with our people, it was our day to not be treated as if we were…different.

“Acid and I are going to Warped Tour, and you can’t stop me.” I looked my parents in the eye, letting them know that I was 100% serious. My father returned the stare and disappeared into the hall closet or a few seconds. He came back with a suitcase and dropped it in the floor at my feet.

“If you’re going, don’t bother coming back home.” His stare was just as malicious as mine, and I knew he was dead serious.

“Fine. Throw your only child out on the streets. If that’s what you want,” I picked up the suitcase and faced my parents with a serious look on my face, “then that’s what you’ll get.”

I stalked up the stairs with my suitcase and stormed into my room, throwing the suitcase onto my bed. I tore down the many band shirts hanging in my closet and threw them onto the bed to later put into the ominous black suitcase. I went to my dresser and pulled open a drawer, staring face to face with every single one of my pairs of ripped up skinny jeans.

I pulled out all of my favorite pairs, white, purple, red, regular old blue, and black. I pulled out one pair that had zippers that went from the waist all the way down to the ankle cuff at the bottom. I had designed them on-line, and they were gray with the American flag printed on them, just like Alex Gaskarth’s. I threw them onto the bed along with the others and moved to my underwear drawer. I packed the necessities, and went on to my shoes.

I bent down to the floor of my closet and picked up my beat up black high-top Converse. I looked at them and smiled, remembering all the good times I’ve had in them. I wore these old things to Homecoming, the year I decided to change my name to Blade. My dress was dark blue that year, and I had also worn black lace finger-less gloves, along with several silver necklaces, and of course, my Converse. Acid was right along with me with her blood-red dress, black silk gloves that went up to her elbow, fishnet tights and her high-tops.

Another good memory I had in these shoes was when Acid and I had made fun of the preps, or as we call them, the Cheer-Whores, and they were chasing us down the street. We had called them out because the Captain was flirting with a “scene” kid. Acid had called out “I thought you wanted us ‘emo’s’ to go slit our wrist and die!?” The kid looked at the Captain, Brittany, with a disgusted expression and it had pissed off more than one Cheer-Whore. Next thing we knew, we were laughing our asses off, running down the street.

I set the old shoes down carefully on the bed, putting them down like they were a baby. I went back to the closet, picking up my red and gray Osiris’s along with my worn out black leather combat boots. I placed them on the bed and began to fold everything, knowing that, this way, I would have more room to put other things in the suitcase.

When all the folding and packing was done, I left the suitcase in my room and walked into the bathroom, picking up my toothbrush and toothpaste. I grabbed my deodorant from the compartment behind the mirror, ironically placing it under my arm to make room for other bathroom necessities. I picked up my shampoo and conditioner from the side of the tub, and walked back into my room, throwing them down on the bed. I looked around and found a red backpack, my eyes lighting up as they landed on it.

I lifted the backpack off of the dingy carpet, smiling as I did so, and started to pack all of the items from the bathroom into the red bag. I had the feeling I was forgetting something, and I searched around the room for other things that I needed. I found my laptop and my laptop bag and packed those into the suitcase, my phone and its charger, even my start-up money I had saved over the years, which summed up to $3,000.

But something was still missing. It popped into my head and I lifted my mattress, revealing maybe 10 sharp and clean blades. I smiled at the thought of them and grabbed them, putting them in the smallest pocket of the backpack. You know, just in case. I pushed my abundance of bracelets down to my palms and slung the red backpack over my shoulder.

Giving myself one final look-over, my winged eyeliner, ripped white Black Veil Brides tank-top, red skinnies and black boots, I picked up the black suitcase and waked downstairs, the case loudly hitting every step as I walked. I faced my parents at the base of the stairs and looked them dead in the eye.

“Phillip, Joy, it’s been a pleasure knowing you. I’m on my way to make my life the best it’s ever been. I’ll notice you when people all around the world know my name. I’ll tell them that it was you that got me off to a great start, and I’ll send you some retirement money later on. Good day kind lady and sir.” My voice came out like venom and I dragged the suitcase over to the door.

“Destiny Patterson, I will not allow you to do this,” my mother said, pointing a bony finger in my face.

“I told you, my name is not Destiny, it’s Blade now.” I opened the front door, flipping my former parents off as I stepped outside. I closed the door shut behind me, hearing a click and I laughed.

They think I can’t handle myself. They're the immature ones, not me. I'm not weak. And I'm going to prove that.

The sound of a car horn interrupted my thoughts, and I looked to my left, seeing Acid driving down the road, blaring Pierce The Veil. I smiled and brought my luggage down to the driveway. I laughed at Acid’s confused expression and loaded my things into the backseat of the sleek, red 1965 Impala.

“My parents said that if I went to Warped, I wouldn’t be coming back home.” I laughed as I hopped into the passenger seat and looked at Acid’s worried expression. She turned the music down so it sounded like Vic was whispering, and she looked at me with sad eyes.

“Maybe you should just stay home, I wouldn’t want you to lose your family,” she said softly.

When Acid was 16, she had been kicked out of her foster home. Her biological mother had been raped and didn’t want to keep the baby, so she sent Acid, her born name being Elizabeth, to foster care. I know she didn’t want me to end up like her, without family, lost and cold on the streets with nowhere to go. When she was old enough, she found a good paying job at a Goth-punk clothing store, and rented an apartment of her own. She had been by herself ever since.

“I mean, I could always come live with you right?” The hopeful look in my eyes made the corners of her mouth tug upward, and she placed both hands on the steering wheel.

“Of course you can. Now, let’s go to this concert, huh?” She backed out of the driveway, cranked the music up, and put the pedal to the medal, hauling ass out the neighborhood.

Notes

So, hi everybody. This is my second story(: My first was Angels and Saviors and Whatnot, if you haven't already, you should go check that out. Hope you guys like this one! Stay strong Pinjas!

My chapter titles are going to be song lyrics, so, I hope you get the references XP