I feel so bad about writing this! :( I'm not to fond of this though, and I'm not really sure if I'm leaning more to liking it or hating it.

Also I had to change a few words, but those are in bold so you'll know which ones. Rated T for swearing (like once or twice).

Disclaimer~I OWN ALL !

*Police break down the door* "Ma'am put your hands in the air!"

"Oh. . .hehehe I was just kidding! BYE! I OWN NOTHING!"

Concrete Angel

He walks to school with the lunch he packed
Nobody knows what he's holding back
Wearing the same clothes he wore yesterday, he hides the bruises with linen and lace
Oooh

Carlos Garcia walked to school his head held down, he didn't want to see other little boys hugging their Mommies, because he knew his Mommy would never hug him.

His grip on his paper bag lunch tightened as he heard a little girl call out "Mommy! Mommy!" from the corner of his eyes he can see a little brunette girl tugging on a woman's sleeve to get her attention, she points to him. "Why does that boy wear those clothes every day?" she asked.

"Shhh, honey." the women responded patting the girl on her head, and turning her attention back to her older son and his friend.

Carlos pulled his worn out jacket closer to his faded Mighty Mouse shirt, trying to hold in the tears.

The teacher wonders, but she doesn't ask
It's hard to see the pain behind the mask
Bearing the burden of a secret storm
Sometimes he wishes he was never born

"That's a beautiful comb James. Oh wow Kendall! Is that you playing hockey? That's so cool! Oh wow, Jo is that you and a werewolf? Very nice." Mrs. Collins smiled walking down the aisle of her second grade class.

Reaching Carlos desk she peeked over his shoulder to get a better look at his drawing. She frowned slightly as her eyes landed on the bruise that disturbingly was in the shape of a hand print. She shook her head and walked on. "Wow Camille, that's one pretty robot princess. Oh my goodness! Stephanie, your monster is so scary looking!"

Carlos looked up and felt a twinge of sadness he didn't get a compliment over his picture.

He got up and began to walk out of class to the playground when the bell signaled. "Hi!" a voice chirped from his left, looking over he came face to face with a pale little boy "I'm Logan."

"I'm Carlos." Carlos answered timidly, the last time kids talked to him was just to prank him.

"I liked your picture."

"R-really?" Carlos stuttered a light blush rising to his cheeks.

"Yeah, your house was so real!"

"Did you see my Mommy and me holding hands?"

"Yeah, I liked that too." Logan beamed.

Carlos smiled back, not mentioning that his Mom doesn't hold his hand or smile at him. "Your really nice Logan."

"Thanks, we should be best friends."

"Best friends?" Carlos mused, he liked the sound of that.

Somebody cries in the middle of the night

Through the wind and the rain
He stands hard as a stone
In a world that he can't rise above
But his dreams give him wings
And he flies to a place
Where he's loved
Concrete Angel

Carlos smiled as he walked into his house, it had been a week since he meet Logan, and for once in his young life everything seemed to be going right in the world. Walking into the run down dump he called home, he saw his Mom lying on the couch.

"Mama, look at the drawing I made." (A/N it normally takes like a week to grade drawings and then send them home. . .right?) Carlos beamed while unraveling his manila paper of his home.

"Lovely." she slurred not even looking at it.

"But you didn't even look Mommy." Carlos pouted.

She looked over at it and sneered. "Well. . .it's something alright."

"Do you like it Mommy?" he asked, his face full of hope that only a little kid could hold.

"No, it's fucking ugly." she growled ripping the paper from his hands and tearing it in half. "Now go to your room!"

"But Mommy, I haven't even had dinner yet."

"I don't care, your stupid drawing ruined that for you, NOW GET!" she screamed grabbing his arm to tight and throwing him in the direction of his room.

Once in his room Carlos peeked out to see his mom had moved to the kitchen clanking around no doubt for more beer. He snuck out and gathered up the broken pieces that was once his beloved drawing and ran back to his room. Digging through his draw he retrieved tape, and taped his precious drawing to the wall.

Smiling at his own handy work he didn't catch the voice whispering to him at first. "Psst. Carlos!" turning around he saw Logan peeking out of the window on the house over.

"Logan! You live next door?" Carlos asked surprised.

"Uh. . .yeah." he chuckled. "So, are you okay."

Carlos opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off as his mother stumbled in, alcohol strong on her breathe.

The neighbors hear, but they turn out the lights
A fragile soul caught in the hands of fate
When morning comes, it'll be too late

"CARLOS!" she slurred, and advanced on him.

"Mommy no!" he cried right before her hands made contact with his face.

"Your such an awful boy!" she screamed before kicking his stomach. "I can't believe I gave birth to a freak like you!"

"Please stop, Mommy!" Carlos sob trying to shield himself with his hands.

"You stupid, STUPID BOY!" she screamed while again hitting him. "I HATE YOU!"

Logan looked away from the window he was at looking up to the sky, 'why do you let this happen?' he silently questioned, but his only answer is Carlos mother screams and a low thump.

A statue stands in a shaded place
An angel boy with an upturned face
A name is written on a polished rock
A broken heart that the world forgot

Logan stays silent watching from the shadows as paramedics go into a house, that wasn't a home. The paramedics walked out hustling little Carlos Garcia to the ambulance. His body was bloody and bruised, and he didn't look like he would last much longer.

The people of Rosewood lane all looked on in horror and shock at the little boy, but their attention was soon grabbed by his mother being drag out kicking and screaming. "He deserved it!"

Logan looked down tears brimming his eyes, people like her didn't deserve to know people like Carlos.

Through the wind and the rain
He stands hard as a stone
In a world that he can't rise above
But his dreams give him wings
And he flies to a place
Where he's loved
Concrete Angel

Logan looked down at the little white marble stone,

Here lies

Carlos Alexander Garcia

may you fly to the heavens young one.

His eyes prick with tears at the stone, another one gone.

"Logan?" a scared timid voice called.

A smile lit up Logan's face as he turned around and found Carlos standing there scared.

His Mighty Mouse shirt had been restored to its original state, his jacket looked brand new, his jeans were dark and had no holes, but most of all a huge grin lit up his face.

"Whyere are we?"

"We're free Carlos, we're free." Logan smiled. "You're loved here." he offered his hand and Carlos took it. "We're not alone here."

"What?"

Logan pointed up the hill where a group of kids their age, they were running around playing tag, one stop and waved them over. "Come play with us!"

Carlos grinned, he liked it here. . .he was loved. And that was the best feeling he ever felt. . .loved.

This was like the fifth Martina McBride song that inspired a story, although I'm not sure if I'll post the other ones, because I don' know how much of it I'll actually type up. So yeah I know it's no where as good as the music video, but I just felt bad for not updating in awhile so I figured I had to give you something. ;D Please review! :D