I was 13 years old, sitting on my bed after school in my own little bedroom at the end of our house with my Next Base player in front of me. My little pink MP3 player was on top and the remote control was beside me. I was listening to Paramore’s Breathe. I was a sophomore in high school, my sister was a senior, my mom worked in the little business she and my dad put up years ago, and my dad was so addicted to target shooting that he didn’t spend much time with us like he is now. I loved school so much because I could escape from things. I would always lock myself in my room so I couldn’t eat. I had an eating disorder back then. Whenever I locked myself in my room, I would study so I couldn’t think of anything else. When I’m done, I would write things – daydreams, feelings, and thoughts (My Inner Reveries). After a little while, I’d hear screams from the other room that is separated by walls and a little path walk. I’d run to the other room or I’d see my mom coming in. They got into another fight again. I’d shiver and be really nervous whenever this happened. I would pretend I’m okay and I’d say words to try and make everything fine again. When it finally did (or not), I would go back to my room, cry, turn on my player, get my pen and diary, write whatever I’m feeling (how I’m scared, what I ate), and listen to this song on replay.

Now I’m 22, working and up till today, this is what I remember every time I hear this song. None of these changed. I could remember and feel each detail as if I’m in my old room back home again.


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