Like I said, it was a good thing I kept in touch with Scar, and that I looked after her. We have now known each other for about two weeks and she has poured out her heart and soul to me; as I have to her. They way she told me the stories about her made me visualize it. She was a small town girl, she had problems in school and with her family. She felt like she didn’t belong and because of that she told me about her struggle with self harm.

The night she told me this we had just gotten home from watching The Perks of Being a Wallflower. We both ended up crying while watching that movie of course, but something about the pain in her eyes had me wondering. So I asked her about it, and she began with her story…


“It all started off when I was a little girl. I grew up being a little different and because of that no one in school really talked to me. I had a few friends but I felt they just talked to me because they had to. I was into different things, while girls my age liked princesses I liked witches. When they were into boys I was into cartoons. When they stayed up to watch Hannah Montana I stayed up to watch Avatar.
None of them accepted me, and in time all my friends ended up ditching me. I never understood why no one liked me. Just because I didn’t like the same stuff as them? I tried to get into their things but I just didn’t like it. So from a young age, I became the outcast and I hated it.
Once I reached the age of realization and knew what was going on I was too far of a weird kid to even try to be normal. I hated school too, I was never any good at it. Plus the teachers hated me too, they also treated me like the weird student. No one accepted me, ever. I went all through grade school alone.
My worst nightmare began in junior high, when I started to actually get picked on and not just completely ignored. My first year there was the worst. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, I didn’t want to be around anyone. I just wanted to be left alone. Everyone would always pull my hair, trip me, push me around, but the most common they would just yell things at me. I learned to ignore it; none of it mattered to me.
It wasn’t until my second year there that I found someone like me. His name was Alan and ever since I meet him we were inseparable. Every one always thought we were dating, but we were just friends. For two whole years it was just us two. Then when high school came along, we meet so many more people like us, and they all started calling me Wolf Tiger, just because those were my favorite animals. It was our little group of six people.
Our sophomore year however was a bad one. The excitement of being in high school was gone and we all went back to our life’s of being the schools laughing stock. That was also the year Alan, committed suicide. The pressure he was going through was something he had never gone through before. It was too much for him and he took his own life. Another two of us moved away and I stayed with a girl names Grace, her and I where never close and in time we drifted. Once again I was alone, and this is when I started self harming.
It all started by accident. I was in science class and my lab partner dropped a beaker. Causing the glass to shatter and for some of it to cut my forearm. The only thing was, it didn’t hurt. It felt good, and looked cool. Seeing my blood flow down my arm, almost like my inner demon was in pain and I was in pleasure. The warm red blood were the tears of my depression. So I began to cut whenever I felt it was taking over me. I thought I was killing a monster. Now I know I wasn’t; I was creating one.
I still self harm till this day, but not as bad and frequently and I’m actually trying so hard to stop. I’ve been clean for two months now, my record is three. But that’s only because that’s when I was in the hospital for almost bleeding to death. That’s when I came up with the idea to leave. Ever since this whole story started I loved music. I loved playing the violin and piano. That was my passion; I sing here and there but I prefer to play something.
When I left the hospital the summer going into my senior year I realized I didn’t want to go back to that place. So I packed up, left a note for my parents, and drove here. They called me and were furious and disowned me as a daughter. I haven’t spoken to them since that call. Now all I want is to play music. I want to be in a band. I want to save lives like so many musicians have saved mine. Similar to you, Black Veil Brides have been there for me.” Scar finished her story in tears.

All I could do was hug her, hug her and tell her everything was going to be ok. That I would help her get through her self harm. That I would always be here for her. No matter what.

“You know what Scar?” I whispered.

Her head slowly rose up to meet my eyes. “What?” she chocked.

“You can be in a band.” I told her.

“What?” she sounded confused.

“I got an offer the other day to record at the studio. I have a drummer, bassist, and I play guitar, but I would sure like a piano/violin player and backup singer.” I smiled at her.

Her eyes lit up as if she had just seen the most beautiful thing ever. Her smile grew so large it looked like it hurt. Her head began to nod. “Are you serious!” she screamed.

I nodded and smiled, “How would you like to be in my band?” I asked her.

“Yes! Hell yeah! Of course!” she screamed and nodded her head. Her arms were thrown around me, and I threw mine around her. We both screamed and jumped in joy.

“Great! I just have to call the producer and tell him a big, fat YES!” I yelled.
“Who’s the producer?”

“John Feldmann!” I smiled. Her jaw dropped to the ground.

“The ‘John Feldmann?’ As in the man who produced Wretched & Divine?” she squealed.

“The very same!” I laughed.

She screamed and jumped around. “Oh my god! My dream is coming true! All I ever wanted was to live my dream and belong, now I finally am.” she said. A few tears began to roll down her cheeks and mine too.

“Look at us! We are going to make it Scar! We are going to make it…” I whispered.

“Thank you Crystal, thank you so much.” she hugged me tighter. “We are going to make it…” she whispered.

We held each other for a few moments, both in joy. When we had our tears under control I called John and approved everything with him.

“Excellent! Come over to the studio this Saturday at 11 am sharp! Address is on the card. We are going to make this happen.” he said right before he hung up.

Once again Scar and I screamed, “We are going to make it!” we both yelled.