They know we don’t have hearts, only broken pieces, scattered, burnt, and unusable.

New York New York, 10:00pm, 10/1/2030

Sirens ring loud in the distance. Music, music that reminds us of our pain, plays in every night club. And a night club sat at every corner. Ever sense my generation rebelled, things began to change. For the better? For the worst? I’m not sure.

We, beautiful little misfits rose, it could almost be said we rose to power. We rule these streets now. At least in New York. We painted the walls of each building with our own personal pain. The rejection, the pain, the hurt, we let it all out on the buildings. As if they had done a treacherous crime against us. Images of demons haunting a lonely soul, words that express pain, all written on the outside of these buildings. I suppose it was the way to show what we had been doing for so long, locking our pain in.

Of course we expressed it in other ways, like our clothes. Our long sleeve gloves to hide our scars. Piercings to show our rejection. But no one ever paid attention to us. Not until we finally took a stand. Not until we let all our personal hell break loose. Now they know how we feel inside. It serves them right for ignoring our silent, but obvious pleas for help.

Now the people of New York live in our world. The world we lived in for so long, the world the other people, just didn’t see. We saw it though; we just made it visible for the other people. We broke windows, destroyed cars, and left them to sit on the side of the street, lonely, cold, broken, and sad, just like our souls. We vandalized everything we could, we killed, we broke, we beat, and we destroyed. We showed them, we showed them what had happened to us, long ago. Now they finally felt us. They knew the pain and hurt, and yet they still looked down on us. Secretly though, they didn’t dare rise against any of us. They know we don’t have hearts, only broken pieces, scattered, burnt, and unusable. Death was something easy to us; something that came naturally, to kill, to hurt, and to destroy, all of our second natures.

Things like Rape, theft, lies, are all part of life. We saw it first, and that’s why we’re sad. We saw the corruption of life, before anyone else did. And then, in an even greater way, we saw the corruption in our selves. We saw the undeniable flaws of human, of people. I saw my mistakes, flaws, and every tiny imperfection magnified to a hundred degrees. That’s why I’m sad, that’s why we all are, because we see the flaws of the world and people.

I heard a tapping sound at my window which only means one thing. Jimmy. Jimmy’s my boyfriend. I had met him at a party, like any romantic misfit story, we did meth together. And we stayed together, and every night we left to get another fix. I didn’t have to sneak out, my parents long ago lost the desire to care. They lost the desire to try and save me. They gave up. They lost hope. They stopped loving me.

Welcome to my world, New York, NY, 10/1/2030

New York New York, 10:00pm, 10/1/2030

Sirens ring loud in the distance. Music, music that reminds us of our pain, plays in every night club. And a night club sat at every corner. Ever sense my generation rebelled, things began to change. For the better? For the worst? I’m not sure.

We, beautiful little misfits rose, it could almost be said we rose to power. We rule these streets now. At least in New York. We painted the walls of each building with our own personal pain. The rejection, the pain, the hurt, we let it all out on the buildings. As if they had done a treacherous crime against us. Images of demons haunting a lonely soul, words that express pain, all written on the outside of these buildings. I suppose it was the way to show what we had been doing for so long, locking our pain in.

Of course we expressed it in other ways, like our clothes. Our long sleeve gloves to hide our scars. Piercings to show our rejection. But no one ever paid attention to us. Not until we finally took a stand. Not until we let all our personal hell break loose. Now they know how we feel inside. It serves them right for ignoring our silent, but obvious pleas for help.

Now the people of New York live in our world. The world we lived in for so long, the world the other people, just didn’t see. We saw it though; we just made it visible for the other people. We broke windows, destroyed cars, and left them to sit on the side of the street, lonely, cold, broken, and sad, just like our souls. We vandalized everything we could, we killed, we broke, we beat, and we destroyed. We showed them, we showed them what had happened to us, long ago. Now they finally felt us. They knew the pain and hurt, and yet they still looked down on us. Secretly though, they didn’t dare rise against any of us. They know we don’t have hearts, only broken pieces, scattered, burnt, and unusable. Death was something easy to us; something that came naturally, to kill, to hurt, and to destroy, all of our second natures.

Things like Rape, theft, lies, are all part of life. We saw it first, and that’s why we’re sad. We saw the corruption of life, before anyone else did. And then, in an even greater way, we saw the corruption in our selves. We saw the undeniable flaws of human, of people. I saw my mistakes, flaws, and every tiny imperfection magnified to a hundred degrees. That’s why I’m sad, that’s why we all are, because we see the flaws of the world and people.

I heard a tapping sound at my window which only means one thing. Jimmy. Jimmy’s my boyfriend. I had met him at a party, like any romantic misfit story, we did meth together. And we stayed together, and every night we left to get another fix. I didn’t have to sneak out, my parents long ago lost the desire to care. They lost the desire to try and save me. They gave up. They lost hope. They stopped loving me.

Welcome to my world, New York, NY, 10/1/2030