The key to the black parade

The rattle of the paint can was the only thing that could be heard in the dead as the petite Blonde carried out her illegal political statement. Smudged eyes, ghostly pale skin, red lipstick and dirty blonde hair, she could have been a model if it weren't for the cuts and scars that plagued her arms, legs, hips and stomach.
I'm not o-fucking-kay
So give me all your poison and give me all your pills and give me all your hopeless hearts and make me ill
You're running after something That you'll never kill, If this is what you want then fire at will
Kill all of your friends
I don't love you
Her favorite MCR lyrics were sprayed in black over those horrible posters advertising the modelling company that had just been set up. They were the ones of the pretty and skinny girls that go to her school. The ones who got modelling contracts. The ones who were perfect. The ones who gave her a black eye because she wears punk make up. The ones who made her cut herself. The ones who made her attempt suicide 8 times. They broke her repeated since Primary school. Now they will pay for what they did to her.

Notes

New story :D sorry this chapters really short but enjoy!!!