Leave A Scar||Marilyn Manson Love Story

Prologue

"Part of me is afraid to get close to people because I'm afraid they're going to leave." -Marilyn Manson

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Sometimes, life likes to be a real bitch. But then later in life it decides to reward you for pulling through the hard times. It's funny though, how Life works. I mean, who would have thought that after seven long years of complete and utter Hell, I would be with my dream guy? Not me. I would have laughed in your face after flipping you off. Not many people get chances like this. I guess I'm one of the lucky few. I suppose you wont know where I'm coming from until I tell you my story. Well, it's a long one, so please ask questions if you get confused.

It all started in October 2009....

 

"Kyrsten! I need you to come hear this!" My best friend, Zach calls out. Rolling off my bed, I fall onto the hard wood floor with a thud. I groan as my cat Stalker walks over my back.

"Zach is it really worth moving for?" I hear him laugh before I feel his large hands pull me backwards, Stalker jumping off with a deep growl.

Pulling me into a sitting position he nods. "I think I finally found the man of your dreams. Now come on lazy ass! Come hear him sing!" I smile and look up at my best friend, his broad jawline covered with slight stubble, his short brown hair styled just right. His hazel eyes shine with excitement as he jumps up and down.

Finding some motivation, I stand up and walk to the other end of my room to the computer. "Who is Marilyn Manson?" I ask him as I stare at the YouTube page, the video black as it waits to be played.

"Don't worry about that yet, just listen to this song and tell me what you think." I shrug my shoulders and put the Skullcandy ear buds in. Zach hits the play button, and I'm instantly thrown into bliss. The singer's voice just cut through me, sending shivers down my spine.  

Nothing suffocates you more than
The passing of everyday human events
And isolation is the oxygen mask you make
Your children breath in to survive

Looking over to Zach, with a huge grin on my face, I ask him, "Who is this mystery man? And is there a music video? I want to see!" His laugher almost drowns out the song.

"The song name is The Fight Song, the artist is Marilyn Manson. I found this a few days ago, and thought of you. Let's listen to a few more songs before you actually see Manson."

He introduced me to Tainted Love and This is The New Shit next, and after that, I demanded to see what my dream guy looked like. Needless to say, I was impressed. His voice sounded amazing, the lyrics caught my heart and caused me to feel something other than depression for once in my life.

When I looked upon the image of Marilyn Manson, I became speechless. He was everything I dreamed I could be. Growing up in a town of 1000 people, with a class of only 14 children, it was difficult to be yourself if you ever wanted anyone to talk to. That and the fact the closest store that sold anything of my interests was a two hour drive away.

I could barely believe the man in the picture was real. So many nights I have dreamt of a guy that looked like him to come and take me away. His shoulder length black hair, skin as white as snow, one brown eye, the other an almost white. I knew that the white one was a contact lenses, but it was still amazing. I can still picture the black clothes and the combat boots. The narrow jaw and his penetrating gaze.

Zach continued to show me more of his music and art, each new thing making me feel more at home. After Zach went home to call his boyfriend, I continued to listen to every single Manson song I could get my hands on. I was on cloud nine with his music, it was turning into my drug, and I felt as though I would never be able to have enough.

In the upcoming years, Marilyn would teach me how to be my self, to not listen to what people believed I should dress or act. He would inspire me to try to get myself out into the world and try new things, to leave the fearful, shy, little girl behind.

Though it seemed as though everyone was trying to mold me into the "perfect teen", little would they know that in the process, it would shape me into the thing that they feared most.

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I do NOT own any of the music that will be listed within this book/story. It all belongs to Marilyn Manson, the band, and the manager.

Thanks~

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