Chapter Thirteen- A Thousand Bodies Piled Up

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 It was Friday, the day before our second gig at Skull. I was at school but I wasn’t concentrating on any of my lessons. I was completely focused on the band. I had been in a creative mood all day, which was lucky because it was the deadline for me ‘expressionist artwork’- and I hadn’t done anything. I didn’t have a lesson second period so I went to the Art Annex to get something done. It would be rushed and it wouldn’t be very good, but I had other things on my mind besides my education. I wouldn’t necessarily need an education to be in a band.

 The art room was deserted when I entered and it was all deathly silent. I decided against listening to my IPod because it would no doubt distract me. I pulled out a new canvas, sat down… and stared at it.

 Expressionism… emotion… I’d already decided that I wanted to create something with impact- but what?

 I sighed and looked over at George’s desk. He’d already handed in his assignment. He hadn’t shown me what it was, though. I decided to look through his work, maybe get some inspiration… and I came across the drawing of Matt and Maisy.

 Matt was smiling his timid smile in the photo, his eyes showing only happiness and adoration for Maisy. Just looking at it made me smile; they were such a cute couple.

 The happiness that was present in the photo, however, was showing no signs in Matt of late. He seemed totally out of it most of the time, not focusing on much, and very, very afraid. I wondered if Liam was quietly bullying him and he just hadn’t told us about it. It was driving George insane too; it was killing all of us to see Matt so forlorn and depressed. The situation was really taking its toll on the Foster brothers. They seemed more mentally linked than ever, and George found it difficult to be in a positive mood when Matt was so upset. They’d both been drinking a lot more, too.

 I buried the photo amongst all the work on George’s desk and returned to my own. Brow furrowed, I went to the supply cupboard and got out all I would need. I painted a stream of red going across the page and then painted the whole rest of the canvas in black. I waited for it to dry a little before using the end of the paintbrush to scrape of some of the black paint to reveal the white of the canvas underneath. I scratched out a moon and its aura in the sky, making highlights from its light pick up on the stream of red before etching a person sitting near the stream with a miserable, forlorn look on his face. It wasn’t great, but it was kind of emotional. I was tempted to add an empty alcohol bottle by the boy’s feet, but I thought it would reveal a little too much about my lifestyle at the moment. I went and gave the artwork to my teacher who was in her office.

 At lunch everyone was jittery, on edge about tomorrow. Bex was going to watch, as was Maisy. My mother, Mr Hughes and Ms Foster would also be attending…

 I wasn’t sure if having people I knew in the crowd would make the stage fright better or worse. I knew it would make me laugh, though- imagining Mr Hughes or Ms Foster in a rock club was hilarious. Ms Foster had a decent music taste and all, but I wondered how she would handle the mess…

 I went home to mum’s that night so I could get a good night’s sleep. If I’d gone back to Jake’s, not only would we probably get no sleep, but we’d also be freaking each other out with our own anxiety. When I woke up in the morning, I looked around my cramped room and smiled. It was the room of my childhood, and waking up in it was rather odd after I’d been slumming it on Jake’s sofa for so long now.

 I woke up and went downstairs quietly, shutting the kitchen door almost silently before I flicked on the kettle. I didn’t want the noise to wake mum up; she hadn’t been in the best of moods last night, for some reason, and I wanted her to feel good enough to go to the gig later. She woke up anyway and came stumbling down the stairs, hair everywhere, in pyjama bottoms and a huge hoodie. She was definitely not in a good mood. She kissed me on the cheek but otherwise didn’t say anything, just went over to the cupboard and got out two pop tarts- one for me, one for her. Her hands were shaking as she tried to push the lever down on the toaster, and she couldn’t do it.

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