One
“We’re moving.” Mum announced in a really ‘today-it-was-rainy’ tone to me.“Fuck you.” I stated, obviously irritated by her. “Fuck you, and also fuck Steve. Why does he have to be around every time? You left him for dad. For fucking dad who loved you! Because of you, my life is a mess. And now you want us to move? Then fuck you. Going off to Steve, are you. Not for your own daughter.” I continued, my throat aching.
“I’m not going off to Steve and you k-” She wanted to comment. To comment back to me. Well, fuck her.
‘Whore.’ I thought.
“Than whom are you going off to? Auntie Barbara? Oh, wait. She’s dead.” I grinned like hell in my own mind. Go you, Jess. “Where are we going to, anyway? And what am I going to do with the week-ends when I was visiting dad?”
“New Jersey. And he’ll come and visit us, anyway.” She knew how to spice things up. I dryly laughed.
“He can’t. He’s broke.” I stated, making her glare at me.
“See, Jessica? That’s why I left him.”
“You are a fucking gold-digger mum. Screw you big time.” I answered, leaving the room and wondering if there’s any My Chemical Romance museum down in Belleville that I can visit.
You see, MCR were this big, big band down in the 06s but the lead singer died so the only the thing they could do is split up – you see, they decided that without Gerard, nothing is worth it. They just split up in 08. When I was 11.
But then Ray got sick, Bob went all mindless and so did Mikey and Frank couldn’t stand it so he snapped into another country. And that’s how My Chemical Romance broke up. It wasn’t so tragic, but I loved them. So, maybe I could visit it.
Oh. I forgot to talk about myself. I’m Jessica Copperfield and I’m from Chicago. I don’t know why mum wants to move us out of this beautiful place that I love (please notice my wonderful big dose of sarcasm), but maybe it’s because of our shitty life with Steve.
Now, I shall tell the story of my life, I suppose? Okay then, here it goes:
I was born on the 6th of October, in a dark night because that’s autumn and all those stuff. My mum didn’t want me, because dad was broke then, too, and then they couldn’t really take care of me but they both loved me so kept me. Okay, until mum found Steve, this co-worker of hers from the office and started dating him. Dad got angry. Fighting. Shout. Tears. Everything you should actually (not) wish for when you are 11 years old. See, then they divorced because Steve promised to take care of me and mum (bummer! The only thing he does is sit in pubs with his old stupid friends or eat cheese cake). I always despised him. He was a very muscular man, tanned and kind of slim – the kind of man I totally despise. The way he was looking at me – I could feel he wanted to be alone with mum. Fuck her, would you? No chance, big boy. Then I started seeing dad only in the weekends, because he was broke and all those stuff and Liz, the social worker, said that this is the best for us. How does she know? Fuck her. We lived like that for many years. I started changing myself. I had friends. But there was this special girl. Mary. We were best lads, Mary and me. But now I’m off to New Jersey – Hopefully Belleville, wandering off, with no one to be there right beside me, because Belleville High’s program is longer. Oh, God. Kill me.
I hate my life, especially as a teenager, because no one understands me. Mum just nods pitifully and I die of anger. Steve just asks ‘Are you okay, Jessica?’ (I hate being called Jessica, it is plain Jess, thank-you-very-much) and I nod even if he knows that I’m not alright. I just wish, wish, wish I could be Miss Luck and wear fancy clothes and have everyone loving me, but it’s not that simple – trust me, the expert is on the phone.
Oh, that thing reminds me of Mary. Such a dreamy girl, I loved her. She had this short brown hair and big brown eyes and chocolate skin and big lips (which I envied her for) and she had these pretty clothes. I loved her. I’m not sure she loved me, but I loved her with all of my heart. But I was depending on her. She wasn’t on me, because she could always have another friend to kiss her toes and call her princess. She was my only friend, but I wasn’t hers. Sometimes I was thinking about her, wondering if she’s with my in pity for me. Because I have no money and stuff and I’m not into fashion, even if I’m 13 and I should be because Mary always said that this is the only way you could get friends. I just nodded, and she smiled to me. Sometimes, I couldn’t even stand her when I had those days. But it was okay.
“Jess, packed already?” a rusty voice came back, making me shiver. ‘Steve.’ I thought.
“Yeah.” I answered, but truly I didn’t really put a finger on that luggage. Because I didn’t give a fuck. But that was going to change, anyway.
Because the stupid, annoying, stressed, un-sleepy and dumb Jessica Copperfield was going to become the queen. And she knew it. I always dreamt these things when I was younger. I was a queen with long, fair hair and I was tall and all the boys had to truly love me so I can go down to them and be their wife but only one prince won my heart – I had a long, pink, dress with wonderful detail and my pajama should my flat stomach and I had a nose stud but still I had wonderful dresses and wore these fancy shoes and my one and only prince was the most charming prince in the world and he loved me and we had this house on a mountain and we enjoyed ourselves – we were rich and we gave money to everyone who needed and everybody loved us and we had 5 babies which we named in alphabetic order and-
“Then get the fuck down!” Oh, little Stevey used a bad word! Hell, I got to hurry up.
Two
“Then get the fuck down!” Oh, little Stevey used a bad word! Hell, I got to hurry up…Or not. I just got that magic idea that pops up in people’s heads when they most need them. What if I locked myself in my room? And say I couldn’t do it? And put chairs and other shit in front of the door… so we would just call somebody to fix it and then we will just have to leave too late and we will wait one more day but I’ll go to school and when I come back I’ll say I have to do home work. Genius!
So, here I am. Putting chairs and tables and also my bed and other stuff and locking the door. I won’t really sleep tonight, but it is worth it. Because I’m going absolutely no-where. I don’t care if they fuck cows because of me or if they just left without me, I don’t want to be next to them. I want to be with dad, in his old café, with Ms. Janice and Mr. Ron and everyone there – they all knew me and had no problem about me.
Only old dopey momma had a problem, she always said: “Oh, Jessica, I don’t understand you – sitting with poor old people, when you can be rich with us and have fun and friends.” Well, fuck her, dudes. Who cares that I had this white room with cherries everywhere that was clean and smelled of vanilla in mum’s house and I had a small, dopey room at dads. Like I slept much, anyway, at both of them.
Actually, I heard they were fighting before I was born. Mum didn’t want me. Mum wanted a child with a rich man she’d never divorced with. A little blonde child that went to Harvard, because for her, that was worth it. The child would make a very cult family, with lots of traditions and they’ll be rich forever. Too bad she had me, an intelligent child, with long black hair, that was slim and had medium grades – no Harvard for her – with a now broke man. I just hate, hate and hate her. I just wanted to be loved for who I am.
And I hate Steve with all my life. Did I tell you he started smacking me? Maybe sometime he’ll rape me and I’ll report him and he’ll be into jail and mum would regret and then she’ll hug me and tell me it’s all right and he’s a jerk and then she’ll come back to dad who was rich already and I would be perfect and have perfect grades and we’ll be happy forever and ever and-
“I don’t see you’re really hurrying up, much!” A shouting came again, this time from mum. I guess she wanted to convince me.
I didn’t answer. I just went to the window and climbed on the tree, looking at people pass, or wave to me or anything like that. But then I saw Mary. Mary with her stupid little friends: Brandon, Lexis and Benjamin. They were talking. About me.
You see, Mary’s friends always hated me because she gave me attention, too. They just wanted her. And she wanted them too, anyway. They scribbled ‘M+B+L+B=BFF’ on every place they could. Of course, with Mary’s name first, because that’s fancy as hell. I wish mum would stop yelling from downstairs so I could hear what they say. They’re probably talking about me again, bragging and bragging and never stopping of bragging and bragging. Bragging is shit.
So is Brandon. He’s tall and really skinny and always wears straight fit clothes that show off his bones and he has a very big nose and he always speaks very strange and he has black hair and fake scars that he does with spray because he wants to be very hard core.
Lexis isn’t better with anything. She’s obese and her clothes don’t fit her in any way. She always wears ‘The Nightmare before Christmas’ stuff, because she thinks that’s cool, even if she didn’t watch the movie. Her favorite band is The Pussycat Dolls, next coming Shakira.
Benjamin is very fit and muscular and he’s Mary’s boyfriend. She isn’t really in love with him, but whatever. It’s not my business. I’m just describing here. He’s tall and has blue eyes and light-blue hair and he has 5 pierces: 2 in his lips, 1 in his mouth, 1 in his eyebrow and 1 below his lip. All the girls think he’s hot. (Even I had a tiny crush on him, once. Sue me!)
Mum always loved Mary, but not her friends – especially Benjamin. So when she came around, her pals weren’t really there for her so she would just tell me stuff and we would draw or do anything stupid then go to lunch and then she would go home, really pissed that she lost her day. Well, it’s not my fault she’s stupid!
Anyway, mum stopped shouting. I could hear what they were talking. Mary didn’t give a shit about me. And the others encouraged her. I wanted to shout at them, but not until I could hear all the things they would say. When they would decide to leave, I would just shout at them like crazy. That’d be awesome.
“So, Mary, sad that the loser is leaving?” Benjamin asked, while pecking Mary’s lips softly.
“Yeah. I mean, she was such a loser. I was so sorry for her, but I’m glad that she’s finally moving. With her stupid mum who always invited me to dinner – she was so boring!” Mary exclaimed.
“Totally.” Lexis agreed, with her high-pitched voice that you couldn’t hear very well because of her Jack Skellington scarf.
“And she was all so ‘Wanna draw?’ every time we met. It was boring!” Mary added.
“Totally.” Lexis agreed again.
“I just hope we won’t see her again…!”
“Totally.”
Three
“Totally.” God, Lexis was so boring – the only thing she could say was that.“Did I tell you she smells?” Mary said. They all laughed but shook their heads.
“Yeah, she does. And her mum does, too.” I started getting angry. Mary was a fucking bitch.
“So do you, Mary! You’re such a freaking stupid kid, thinking that you can do everything and anything. Just because I’m not rich? Fuck you.” I then started getting into my room, singing.
Singing relaxed me, but drawing did not. I hated drawing because I had no piece of talent. Even my arts teacher told me. She said I have a... Interesting talent. But I knew she was just polite to make me happy. Oh, I hate this kind of people. Trying not to hurt my feelings, are you? Well, guess what. It’s more of that. You’re making me frustrated, bitch. Well, anyway. I stood with my head on the window again, staring. Still singing, but then a man passed. And I stopped. He asked Mary some stupid shit; they all laughed and pointed to me. The man smiled warmly and asked me:
“Are you the one singing?” I nodded, shyly. But not blushing. I never blush. “You’re brilliant. Can I come?” I shook my head and explained him everything.
He nodded and asked if he could just climb. I shook my shoulders and nodded. What if he was a famous musician? That would be freaking awesome. Just see the newspapers, everyone: “Bullied kid gets superstar at age 13.” I could see myself grinning, then the man in front of me. I could study him freely, now. He looked a lot like Frank Iero at age… 29. Just as he should be now. Or is it more?
“Wow…” was all I could exclaim.
“What’s up?” He asked, and then giggled. I knew that giggle.
“You just seem so much like Frank Iero…” He nodded.
“Don’t tell anyone, but that’s because I am Frank Iero.”
I could barely hold myself. Frank Iero. In my room. In my bed (well, not really. In the place where my bed should be). In my fucking own world! I should’ve known. I should’ve prepared everything. It could’ve been perfect! He probably saw the look in my eyes, and just shook his head.
“You shouldn’t have prepared. It’s not a big deal. So, I heard you don’t want to go to NJ. Why is that? I mean, I see you have your friends down there, but every start should be looked as a new one.”
I started smiling. Then grinning. Then laughing, and ended up in a hysteric laugh, a stomach ache and some tears. He just looked at me, confused. I explained:
“Well, one: You talk like mum. Two: Oh, fuck, you don’t know about them already, do you?” He shook his head and I started explaining with a very big happiness.
“Oh, well, sorry then. I guess I’m just stupid.” He sighed. “Sorry twice. I just miss everyone.” I just looked at him, confused. I didn’t know shit about what just he was saying. I didn’t care. Sue me.
“It’s okay.”
Four
“Okay.” He just looked around, but then grinned. “What?” I asked.“Why aren’t you packing up?”
“Packing up?”
“You’re going to NJ, are you?”
“Not really, I don’t want to.”
“I’m sorry, but you will.” He took my hand and pushed me out of the window, making me break my leg. He just grinned, probably taking out all my stuff, throwing them out one by one.
I could see what he threw. Well, practically I couldn’t. But I would with these infra-red eyes I just made up. Hey, what if I was a spy? I could have these cool black shiny costumes and red, round glasses and a backpack that had everything I needed – fancy utensils that looked like real make-up stuff. Sorry, I watched too much Totally Spies today.
“Got them?” I could hear Frank ask me, and I looked around. I just yelled a ‘Yes!’ and he nodded and jumped.
“Now, let’s get somewhere, shall we?” He smirked.
“I don’t know… I just don’t feel like I can. It’s not me.”
“It’s okay. I promise I will protect you.”
“Frank, it’s not really that (well, it is, but that’s the second reason) - the thing is I broke my leg while you pushed me.”
“Oh, shish. Well, I guess we should put you in the car and take you to the hospital?”
“I-”
“Jessica Marie! What are you doing? Running away with a total stranger?” I could hear mum’s voice and saw her red puffy eyes. I just rolled mine. Like she cared.
“I guess you’re asking for a good smacking, young lady.” Steve warned. I just shook my shoulders and Frank smiled.
“Hello. I’m Frank Iero, a teacher of Jessica’s. She made it to the English Olympiad. We are taking her to New Jersey, where she’ll probably have to move because of school changes – a very good school wants her and she wants to go. I reckon she didn’t tell you?” Mum shot me a death glare, but then she smiled at Frank and said:
“No, but that’s wonderful. We were moving today to NJ. Just… wonderful.” Steve nodded at me. “Can we take her?”
“Wouldn’t I be taking her, registering her at the school and other stuff?” Frank asked and nodded at me, too.
“Oh, okay.” They both said and left.
I jumped into Frank’s arms while the 4 losers stared. I mouthed ‘Fuck you, people!’ at them and left also with Frank.
Five
“So…”“So?” Ring-Ring. Ring-Ring. “Oh, answer the fucking phone, Iero!” I snapped. He gave me a confused look. His left eyebrow was raised and his mouth was slightly open. I wondered if his mouth ever watered, but shook my head. He just giggled.
“Well, it’s not my phone, umm…”
“Copperfield. Whose it is then?”
“Yours, probably.” Ring-Ring. I just took the phone out of my pocket and stared at it.
“Yes. Of course. No, not really. Sure. You think so? Well, that’s nice of you. I can’t believe. Just when I left? Oh my God. Well, fuck you anyway. Yeah. Hip you out. Yes, soon. Bye.” I closed the phone with a pretty confused look on my face (I didn’t see it, but I knew it was confused, just don’t mess with me and my opinions). It was Mary. The fucking Mary who was trying to be nice.
Nice fuck, eh? Well, I hate Mary. I hate Mary, I hate Mary, I hate Mary, and she sucks! Well, however. Frank’s got this confused look on himself, too. Like I would tell him who it was, anyway. He was very mean. Well, he wasn't. But I would like to think of him like some sick pervo. Like he was trying to rape me.
That would be fun. I could sue him, too. Just see the titles: "The old rockstar Frank Iero smashes a rape - Confusion or despair?" Oh, Lord. Aren't I great? You could just give me a prize. Everybody would buy the magazine - that would be mine, anyway. And I'll get him into court and just trick everyone that he raped me and I was mentally shocked and hated him and never wanted to touch any man again. Money, money, money!
Excuse me. Too much Abba for one day. Actually, I listened to no Abba. I mean, I listened. But in my head. I played it in my head many times and it was fun because I had this groovy voice that sounded extremely great and I got a CD out and everybody loved it and Frank was still into court and I was still very rich and I got pity of him and got him out and we were best friends forever and we found reincarnations of MCR.
Okay. It was my imagination. But what if we actually did? What if... what if I would meet reincarnations as my school mates? What would happen of me? Of, well, the majority of everyone? Mum? Steve?
Questions, questions, questions. Mary said I always ramble about stupid music and old rockstars and that I should like new stuff too so I could be in the style with everyone - that's how to make friends, remember? That was the fucking way to make friends. Well, not for me. Just for her.
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