Not Again

Prologue

I hated hearing his name. His name was always being found in the newspapers. 

He quickly was becoming famous, although it didn't surprise me. I always knew he was a genius. 

But he broke me. I tried to help him, and he threw it in my face. He yelled and screamed at me. 

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me? Bullshit. What he said to me that night left a mark. 

I was a kid when I first met him. Even though I was born in the U.K. , I spent my first few years growing up in America. When moved back to England when I was nine. I never lost my American accent though.

Next door were a family with two boys a few years older than me. The older brother couldn't stand me. The younger one seemed amused by how much I bothered his brother. 

The younger brother and I started a odd kind of friendship. I absolutely hated it when  he began smoking cigarettes. But when his older brother told me that he had gotten into drugs, I tried to step in. There were a few times I found him high. I got him home safely. 

But when I was fifteen, it got bad. When I tried helping he got  angry. 

I had always been a emotional person, and he knew just what to say to get me to leave. 

So I did. 

I never heard from either of the brothers since that night. 

It hurt loosing my friend. I found my only escape in music. I began to study different instruments and took singing lessons. 

When I graduated from High School, I moved into the city. I worked at a small bookstore. 

In my down time, I would play music in my tiny apartment. I sang and played the piano, violin, guitar, ukulele, and harmonica. I began writing my own songs, recording them on my laptop. 

Now here I am, seven years later. Trying to forget his name. 

Sherlock Holmes...