Lost in Sound

Hallelujah

I want to be a singer. More than anything. I'm ugly. I can sing more beautifully than any other girl in our school. Don't get me wrong, they are all pretty, popular, and fun. I'd trade my voice for their life. The first song I ever learned was "Hallelujah" by Jason Castro. (I think) My mom sang it to me every night. Before she died. She loved me. Thought I was beautiful, in spite of my shocking blue eyes and dark complexion... Not to mention my stupidly blonde hair. Eerg. Ugleeee.

I was humming while my mom was brushing my hair, her powerful voice joined mine, soaring to the top of the room. "And love is not a victory march, it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah." I joined in softly, my amateur voice woven into hers- "She tied you to a kitchen chair, she broke your throne, she cut your hair, the baffled king composed of hallelujah." The baffled king? I never really thought those were the words. Oh well. I closed my eyes. I tried to focus on my mothers fingers combing through my hair, humming hymns from church that always made me cry. Actually, I don't even know what religion we are. How funny.

Back then I was always optimistic, I was freckleless, adorable, fun, honest, playful, shy, rebellious, and smart. What happened to me? The only thing that was the same from when I was little was my passion for music.

I heard there was a secret chord that David played and it pleased The Lord, but you don't really care for music... Do you? It goes like this the fourth the fifth, the minor fall, the major lift...