Ok, so I thought it'd be neat to maybe come up with a true yet not so true past for Jayy Von Monroe of Blood On The Dance Floor. For those of you who don't know, his childhood wasn't so great. Which I briefly explain in this chapter. There will be more to come. This was just an on the spot type idea so I only have this much done for now. Anyways hope you enjoy. And remember, I'm not trying to make it completely true so don't feel the need to tell me all the errors I've made regarding what his childhood really was like. K thanks. Bye!
You know, I never thought I'd open up… Especially not to millions of people on the internet. But I was wrong. Because here I am sitting at a desktop typing what comes to mind to post on the internet. I'm trying to recall my "childhood". It's the start of all the problems that led me to where I am today, being proud of my imperfections and singing to deal with emotional pain that comes from years ago. Don't get me wrong! I love my attitude towards life, and I love the way I am today! But only five or six years ago I would totally disagree with myself now. I'm Jayy Von Monroe of Blood On The Dance Floor and this is my story.
I think I got the inspiration from a song I'm sure you've all heard-Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day. So, let's start from the beginning.
I remember always being..different. I never fit in. Never. Although I wasn't different, problems didn't arise until middle school. I felt like I had to push the boundaries, you could say. See how far I could take my originality.. At that age, there's a bully in every class. And if there's a bully, there's a target. Unfortunately, the target was me. I was the prey. The helpless one. The one who was bold enough to be himself, but not to fight back. At least in middle school the bullying was nothing physical. Only verbal.
But once I got to high school, everything changed. There people would punch you the first day for no reason. Bullying became more than just being called a fag in the halls. I was beaten. My mom was worried the whole. But she didn't take action until I was literally beaten to a pulp by some seniors one day. After that I had to show up to school late and leave school early. I sat in a classroom by myself all day. Of course I still learned. I was just by myself. Any time I went into the hall, even to just go to the bathroom, a police had to follow me. I had to get lunch before the lunch bell rang. I would get it and go back to the classroom to eat alone.. Or maybe if I was lucky, the teacher would be in there and I'd talk to her.