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☆━━━I SAT IN MY rolling chair, now dressed in a red oversized hoodie and a pair of black sports shorts to match. I tucked a stray blonde hair behind my ear, lip resting between my teeth as I fiddled with the knobs at the top of my old acoustic guitar, tuning it. Once I was done adjusting the strings, I placed a finger on the string closest, plucking it.
A soft smile blossomed on my face when the low vibration tickled my brain and flowed around my silent room.
It had been an hour since I got back to the apartment with my sister, and April was quick to hog the bathroom, claiming she had to dethaw with a hot shower. I blamed her for us both freezing to death. That rain honestly felt like ice, and I was sure my fingers would never recover from how cold they got.
And while I patiently waited for my turn, I figured pulling out ole' liable would be a good way to keep my mind off tonight's previous events. If I were being honest, I couldn't remember the last time I sat down to play. Being so busy with my internship and juggling school on top of that, I always felt like time was slipping.
I needed music in my life. It was a hobby I picked up years ago, and I kept it relativity private since it was the only thing in my life that I felt like I had control over. My love for music started when really young, and found out my mother was musically inclined – so naturally, I grew curious, seeing as that was the only way I could form some type of relationship with my birth giver.
At first, my attempts at playing were honestly pathetic. I couldn't sing a steady note, or play a simple tune to save my life. But after months of anger tantrums, sobbing in the shower, and a lot of motivational videos on 'how not to smash a guitar' – holding an instrument was like an extension of my body, and singing became almost as easy as breathing.
Soon enough, was was excelling in the musical field, and I would be lying if I said I didn't love it. Over the years of playing, I bought a little black leather book. My songbook. It was where I kept all my lyrics, rhymes, and sometimes my thoughts. It was like a music diary. And it was sacred. If anyone ever found this book and read it, I would cease to exist.
