Scars To Your Beautiful
Nashville has been utterly quiet tonight, and I’m not too fond of it. That’s when my mind starts thinking over everything I have been through in my life. Twenty-one years old, and I’m homeless on the streets with just my guitar. I’m always dirty from sleeping in old abandoned buildings; I have to go down to the women’s shelter to shower and get some old clothes they leave out for girls who don’t have any of their own. My red hair is almost always in a messy bun on the top of my head; no need to look suitable for anyone, I have my voice, and that’s all I need. I always pick baggy clothes to have some extra comfort when I sleep most of the time.
The nights are the hardest when creeps start to follow me back to see where I sleep and if I’m alone, but I got pretty good at dodging them with the routes I take back to the buildings that keep me safe. I have different ones around Nashville as I try to switch up my spots. It’s not the life I have always dreamed of, but hey, you have to start somewhere.
I have made $20 so far, and I’m just happy to get myself something to eat before moving further into the city. I like to stay on the strip where most people visit bars and shows; that’s where I make the most money. I wish I could get someone to listen to me sings or read the songs I write.
I know I’m not the best, but when the children come around and dance to the songs I play, I feel like they wouldn’t have anything to look forward to walking down the streets if I were to stop. These kids weren’t your normal happy kids with families back at home. These were the kids whose families gave up on them, or something tragic happened to them. They call them the troubled kids. I wouldn’t call them that, though; there was nothing wrong with having dreams that no one else understood.
I know all too well what that’s like; some of the families I lived with would hate when I would play my guitar and sing most days. That’s why I like being alone with no one to tell me when I can play or how loud I can sing. I can play all day and sing my lungs out with no drama. No one tells me to get a job and give up the one thing I am passionate about; I don’t just sing and write because I love it; I do it to get my mind to focus on all the good I will have in my life. I know it doesn’t seem like I have much now, but I have a hell of a lot more now than when I lived with those people. They would take everything from me, the kids would run around with no rules and not a care in the world, but as soon as I stepped out of line, I would get punished for everything they did as well.
So that is why I sing to the kids who have nothing and no one; I know how freeing it is not to watch your back or raise kids being a kid yourself. I have no idea what it’s like to be a kid. I was always responsible for a kid younger than me. I didn’t mind most of the time. They were just kids who needed love and affection. So that’s what I gave them; I loved them when no one else did. I would bathe them and read them bedtime stories. I was always a mother before a child. I miss that the most. All their smiling faces and happy, hi are you busy? Will you play with us? Yes, that is what I miss the most. But when you turn 18, they send you out on your own with no job, no idea what and who you are supposed to be. They don’t get paid, so you don’t get to stay. Well, I’m okay with that. I hope the children are being taken care of and looked after.
When I make it, I will go back and make sure they all have a happy home and food in their bellies. I will make sure they are loved and being taken care of properly. That is the first thing I will do when I make it out here in this big scary world. But until then, I have to keep writing and singing to keep my mind at ease.
Well, my day is just about over, and this little girl comes up to me and asks me to sing her a song. I don’t usually make requests because I like to sing all my originals, but her face was too cute to say no. She asked me to sing, Scars To Your Beautiful by Alessia Cara. I wanted to cry. After all, it is one of my favorite songs to sing because it hits home.
“But there’s a hope that’s waiting for you in the dark
You should know you’re beautiful just the way you are
And you don’t have to change a thing, and the world could change its heart
No scars to your beautiful, we’re stars, and we’re beautiful
Oh-oh, oh-oh
And you don’t have to change a thing, and the world could change its heart
No scars to your beautiful, we’re stars, and we’re beautiful
She has dreams to be an envy, so she’s starving
You know, cover girls eat nothing
She says beauty is pain, and there’s beauty in everything
What’s a little bit of hunger?
I could go a bit longer; she fades away.
She doesn’t see her perfect; she doesn’t understand she’s worth it
Or that beauty goes deeper than the surface.
Oh, oh
So to all the girls, that’s hurting
Let me be your mirror, help you see a little bit clearer
The light that shines within.."
“Thank you so much, that is my favorite song, and you have a beautiful voice.” The little girl says with a shy smile; she puts money in my case and runs up to her mother, still smiling at me.
Her mom looks at me, gives me a small smile, and nods her head. Like she sees what I’m out here trying to accomplish. It gives me hope that there are kids out here with good parents who want them to fight for their dreams and love them no matter what they choose to do or be. I envy those kids, like why couldn’t my parents love me? I did that was so bad as a baby that they had to give me away. All I ever wanted was to be loved and to love them back. I will take what life throws at me and turn it around for the better. I will always give and never take. Never.
Okay, enough of the evil thoughts time to eat and get some sleep. I have just enough to buy myself a magazine of my favorite singers and dream I could live their life for one day until my day comes to live out my dream.
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I got some food and my magazine. Now time to make my way to bed. Today was a good day, though; that little girl was the highlight of my week, so cute, innocent, and sweet. She will do big things one day. She already has started with me by buying my dinner tonight. God bless her little loving heart.
I looked over my shoulder and made sure no one was following me to my building for tonight; I rounded the corner and ducked inside a basement window. It’s dark and terrifying, but after three years, you get used to it. I mean, what other choice was there? You have to start at the bottom if you want to get to the top.
I climb the stairs and make my way to one of the rooms I picked to sleep. It was the brightest room in the whole building, and it gave me a nice view of the city. I have a small flashlight, but I like to save the batteries when I read my magazines.
The room is dark blue with one window, a small thin mattress, a dirty pillow, and a body-size cover. I found this place a few years ago when a kid used to stay here; he told me I could have it that he has moved on. I was very thankful as this is my favorite spot in the city.
I have ripped out pages in my magazines and put them on the walls to make it look like one of my old rooms. I had so many posters on my walls from the other kids that used to live there, and it just made it feel not so lonely. I have big dreams, and they are plastered all over the walls of this room. When I wake up and don’t want to leave this place, I look up and see these pictures staring at me, and I know I can’t hide in here because I will never make it anywhere if I do.
