See Me Audition
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Teen (13-17)Accents
North American (Canadian-General) North American (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
on leaving behind this world and all the things I am I'm tearing away from this because I know I can. I'm pushing away from you and all the things you are I don't need the memory already Where the scars excerpt from my nemesis by five finger death punch Music is a big part of my healing process Got there the if you will that it keeps me saying those lyrics some of my life in more ways than one When I glanced in the mirror, the reflection staring back horrifies me and terrifies those who dare to take a second look No one cares to hear I became this way his hideous, massive burned flesh. I wasn't born damaged, but tragedy made me the man. I am from the outside at least what is where you'll find the so called beast. Why can't they see me for who I really am? See me for the love I can bring. See me the real me, the man that I am. Maybe I should take a stab at writing pain till lyrics seems people can always relate to another's pain. We're in the scars. I wish that was a metaphorical statement, but unfortunately has a painful reality for me. More than 75% of the left side of my body is covered in scar tissue from 1st 2nd and third degree burns permanently disfigured, courtesy of a car crash for which I was the sole survivor. That crash claimed the lives of both my parents. Hello. I was only nine of the time. For the most part, that night will forever be embedded in my memory, haunting my dreams, waking me in the dead of night. That was 20 years ago, and not a night goes by without the shrill screams disrupting my slumber nightmares so real I can still smell the acrid smoke laced with the repulsive scent of melting vinyl and burning flesh, setting me on edge to this very day. If I could find a way to keep going without ever sleeping again, I'd welcome it with a long lost lover who love her. Maslow removes that words in my vocabulary. Whoever want me. Had it not been for Officer Sorenson and his partner, I'd be six feet under, buried right beside my parents. Sometimes I wonder if I wouldn't be better off ending this menial existence that has become my so called life. No more pain. No more torment, No more me. The Glock in your night stand is only a few steps away. Your wrath. The clip is locked and loaded. Do it in the shower wrath. No mess in and out. Your aunt won't see anything. The voices guide me. The running water will wash all remnants away, leaving nothing behind quick. Hopefully somewhat painless. And then what? Relief? The only thing that pulled me from the darkness is my aunt's to ST face filling the void inside my head. Inflicting that beautiful woman with any further pain draws me back toward the light. My mind is at a constant battle of good versus evil, always at war with itself. Are you angel question this silhouette hovering above me, the light shining so bright I could barely make him out through the slits that my eyes had become no son. I'm Officer Sorenson. My partner and I are gonna help you get out of here. Oh, Carrie, Where's my mom? Were the last words I uttered as my heavily leaded swollen eyes closed and my small bodies succumbed to the painful tragedy. It was trying desperately to survive as everything faded to black. The next member I have from the accident was waking to a blinding light and lots of irritating beeping. My heart raced as I stared the unfamiliar faces surrounding me until I locked in on the only one I knew. Where's Mom and Dad? I asked her in Sofia. But even at my young age, I could read the pain on her face. Clear is day at my words. She began to cry, as did I. My aunt Sophia told me. Officer Sorenson, he's as it later asked me to call him. Rarely left my bedside. Those first few days I was in and out of consciousness. The medical staff kept me heavily sedated to help combat the pain so my body could fight the inevitable infection associated with the trauma caused by the burdens. His wife, Cindy, needed me a blanket and brought it to the hospital. Laying atop my bandaged body will have slept the blue Afghan still sit to the foot of my bed to this day, a memory, a sign of love in the beginning of a budding friendship that extended her small, broken family, the Sorenson's were never able to have Children of their own, but they quickly became a source of support to my aunt in me. I'll forever be indebted to them for their kindness. He helped me get my first contract ID I t job and has been a father figure to me from day one. They'll never replace my parents. No, they weren't too. But their unconditional love is a gift I'll never take for granted. Not a day goes by that I don't miss my mom and dad. But the Sorenson's love helps fill the hole in my heart that my parents deaths left behind. Even on a good day, I wouldn't wish the pain I endured on my worst enemy. And trust me, there are many who would be more than deserving. But it's not in my nature to wish hateful things on others. The never ending physical anguish is a given, but believe it or not, it's the mental trauma that's the worst to contend with. Humans can be cruel down, right evil, to be quite honest, and those are the scars that are the hardest to bear, and the ones that can't be inked over