He wore black, only black, and just black. His face was pale, while his eyes were hidden by dark mascara. Everyone who made eye contact with him would immediately look away. His sinister appearance drew negative attention wherever he walked. The loud screeching of a metal guitar could faintly be heard from his headphones as he passed. Students never made fun of him, out of pure fear. He was alone, always alone. The only social interaction he had was the endless stares, and countless fingers which constantly pointed at him.
His music he had playing in his headphones molded him into this character. He was “different” because the musicians wanted him to be. They sculpted this artificial mold for him. He kept to himself because he had to. What would people think if one day he came to school dressed “normal”, and gave an honest effort to socialize with his peers? He was stuck wearing black. He was stuck wearing headphones. He was stuck inside this creature he created for himself.
Summer finally arrived and students were excited for summer, especially Zach. Zach had big plans this summer, no more mascara, no more black, no more metal. Zach was tired of his life. He was tired of all the rumors, and of everything the music made him become.
The first day of school he was standing in front of me in line for identification card pictures. I had no idea who this new student was. He looked familiar though; I jus’t couldn’t place this well dressed kid to Gothic Zach. Then the photographer called his name, “Zachary your turn.” It hit me; this was the same kid who dressed in all black the previous year. He smiled at the photographer, and laughed when he counted down from three.
This couldn’t be happening. The kid who was rumored to slit his wrists, and do heroin was smiling and laughing while wearing a bright blue shirt. He stood up and walked towards me.
“Hey I’m Zach” He said abruptly.
“Hello I’m Alex” I muttered, trying to avoid eye-contact.
“I see you like Sublime” He noticed I was wearing a sublime shirt.
“Yea they are my favorite band” I said looking him in the eye for the first time.
“I am starting to get into them too, I think listening to them makes me a better person. Well I’ll see you at their next concert.” He said with a jolly smirk glued on his face.
Zach and his bright blue shirt now fit in. He became friends with everyone. Happy-go-lucky Zach swears he will never listen to the satanic worshiping music that molded his antisocial past again.
I believe that music ties people together. I believe that music can change a person greatly, from the friends they have, to the clothing they wear. I also believe that you can never judge a book by its cover. This I believe.
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