1970

Chapter Thirteen: December 27th, 1969

Jacob's point of view:

We went back to my place and snuck up to my bedroom. Well, we didn't really sneak. My mother caught us coming in and gave Rebekka a friendly hello. She said it was find that she would be staying here and welcomed her with open arms. She also asked that I show her to one of our guest rooms. I told Rebekka that I would after a while. She didn't argue.

We walked into my bedroom and I shut the door behind me as she trailed in with a curious and watchful eye. I took my guitar in hand from where it sat in the corner of the room. She sat herself down on my bed as she kept searching around the room. She noticed the many posters of bands and singers and all of my favourite movies. There were more of those then there was wall now. I had been living here forever, the posters had grown with me over time.

"You really are into music," she said with a laugh. I chuckled and nodded in agreement as I sat down in the chair in front of the bed. She crossed her legs over each other as she sat at the foot of the bed, watching as I held the guitar in my hands.

"You still want to hear a song?" I asked. She nodded and waited for me to begin. I tried to think about what I could play for her. I tried to think up my favourite songs that were hard to fail at. So I went for one of the first songs I had ever written, and it was also the easiest to sing and, quite frankly, it sounded the best out of all my writing.

I began to strum the guitar in intro. The song was slow tempo at first, kind of mellow and calm. They were simple keys that came together to form a kind of Mediterranean tune, combined with the American beat that everyone here loves, even me. The intro was only a few seconds long to bring the song in, then I went straight to the lyrics, which were a little sentimental.

"It's the middle of the night, and I'm walkin' far.
Meanwhile your daddy's in the wind, drivin' his car.
And you're sleepin' under the night's pretty stars.
So I fall to the ground, tryin' to make a sound.
Wishin' mainly I would be yours to crowd.
Then you come over to me and say "sir, are you alright?"
Then I see you, and I take flight.

A beautiful young ghost.
Acting as my hold.
An enemy turned haven
Keepin' me clean shaven.
I'll stay with you until our days are done.

War torn country, filled us with fear.
Yet the child unborn gave us a happy tear.
The separation made us pray to unite.
Together was the way we wanted to fight.

A beautiful young ghost.
Acting as my hold.
An enemy turned haven
Keepin' me clean shaven.
I'll stay with you until our days are done.

And she's an angel in the worst of the darkest times.
And even though she was strong, she was always mine.
I'd protect her in the fire and the bullet's shine.
Because even though she had her strength, she was always mine.

A beautiful young ghost.
Acting as my hold.
An enemy turned haven
Keepin' me clean shaven.
I'll stay with you until our days are done.
Oh yes I'll stay with you until our days are done."

"Wow...that's beautiful. How did you learn to sing like that?" Rebekka asked as I ended the song. I was flattered that she liked it so much. I loved this song because it was so close to my heart and was based off of real events.

"Thank you. I wrote the song about my parents. It's their story during World War Two," I replied. She smiled bright and it seemed as though her mood has changed after I played her the song. Had it really given her such an affect?