Ashley

Written for my Creative Writing class in the Spring of 2016. The prompt was to write a piece about if something changed in your life and how your life may have past may have changed.

There wouldn’t be Metal to start out.

I am who I am because of Metal. The sweet sounds of a front man plucking strings, backed up by heavy guitars and bass drums lead me out of my Country façade. I only really liked the Country artists that were partially rock. I still sing the lovely tunes of Rascal Flatts to this day, and they remind me of my roots. I digress, Metal opened me up to more than just subtle music with banjos and southern accents, babbling about women, love and parties. It opened me up to less subtle music about women, love and parties, and much more. It led to my wide range liking for music.

I remember my first experience with Rock music. Three opening titles led on to a game where this wondrous collection of rock songs could be played on a mock guitar. Many songs I had never heard before were now at the tips of my fingers, and some of them molded me into who I am today. A particular song, Cult of Personality by Living Colour, still pops in my head and exists in music libraries found everywhere in my digital collection.

That song always pops my favorite wrestler in my head. Phillip Brooks used it as his theme music for a while, a shortened version that still I found fascinating. He was influential yet very devious, a majestic snake. I would have never gotten into wrestling, even though I started watching very late in my childhood, leading to one of my greatest role models not dwelling in my head.

My role models would have been totally different. They wouldn’t have consisted of Phil Brooks, Kevin Smith, Bill Nye or Jack Black. They would’ve been people like Oprah, Michelle Obama, and, maybe, dare I say it, Beyoncé. Just thinking about it makes me cringe, not that those first two are bad role models. I would have been a completely different person. One that I myself currently would loathe. I like the speech mastermind that is Phil Brooks. I admire the comedy Kevin Smith brings to the screen, as well as the knowledge he presents in his writing. I aspire to have the knowledge and tolerance that Bill Nye has. And I always dream to act like Jack Black and still get popularity from it all.

I may have been popular at some point. I never wanted to be ‘popular’. I like a certain ground level of friends and that’s it. I’ll admit, I tend to show off the most in that group of friends, but I do it way before acting out in straight up public. I probably would have been an older version of my sister; a cheerleader, (I do like my fair share of cheering now, being a mascot at one point) and having the lowest self-esteem I’ve ever seen. Why is that? Popular kids always having low self-esteem. Maybe it’s their begging for attention that gets them popular. I’ve never wanted to be popular. In fact, I consider myself a reactive-introvert; only acting out when around friends, and rather than going to parties, playing video games or watching movies with them.

I don’t think my interest in entertainment would have been damaged. My mother introduced me to video games when I was still a toddler, and ever since I have been a video game enthusiast. But what if I never got into video games? What would I have been doing now? Participating in classes at the YMCA? I still read now, but would I have read more? What would I have written about to start off my writing endeavors? Would I have ever took an interest in writing?

The more important part is that I wasn’t a problem child. I may have been with this slight change. I could have gotten in trouble more often. I could have received bad grades. I could be working a dead end job as a manager at McDonalds. At least I’m on the right track. Going to college. Steady Part-Time Job. At least I’m not a murderer! A murderer. I could have been, and with how much rage I have bottled up before, it is quite possible. I could have torn someone limb from limb. I like to think that I could have super strength. No wait, no. I would have shot them. No matter what I would have kept my love for guns and how two small things can cause so much damage.

To think, I could have been the Devil! I mean I would assume the Devil bleeds pretty often like I would’ve. The mouth on me would have flew at each full moon, blabbering about how I needed a man, or a dog, or chocolate. I would have been cliché. Majorly cliché. I’m already cliché on the down-low. But the Devil! Taking men’s souls and draining them until I left them for dead and moved on to my next prey. And when that was over, I would eventually find prey that I would latch onto for the rest of my life until either of us dies? What a devil I would’ve been.

Wait, Metal is the Devil’s music! At least, according to my Christian extended family. They would have shunned me for the Devil I was. I would’ve bathed in their blood after sacrificing myself. For I was the Devil. I would not have taken pity or shame from anybody. I would’ve basked in a tub of red while immersing myself in Jeff Hanneman slaying Raining Blood from his guitar in the depths of hell. I would’ve battled with the former Devil, and claimed my throne, or at least felt like it, all just because I would bleed at least a dozen times a year.

So there’s your answer. Being the devil, I would’ve listened to metal. I would’ve had these hardcore role models. I would have watched Wrestling, I would’ve played video games, I would’ve been popular only before I sacrificed everyone. I would’ve been a great devil.