Sing For Me

Ch.1

I don't know where I'm goin

But I sure know where I've been

Hanging on the promises in songs of yesterday.

An' I've made up my mind, I ain't wasting no more time

The lyrics swam through my head as we neared the exit into the small town of Shrewton. Our beaten up pickup truck rattled as we crossed over the rocky road into the city. The smell of farm animals filled the air making me scrunch up my nose. Home sweet home, I thought sarcastically.

The small town of Shrewton was my new home. The eighth home this year. It's only June and I've lived in eight different homes in eight different cities in eight different parts of the U.S.

It's just me, my mama, and my little 4 year old brother, Hawk. I've basically been homeschooled my whole life. After Hawk was born my father skipped out on us, so my mom decided that we'd travel the world and never think about old pops again. She said there was no need for school because she could teach us everything we need to know about life. Yeah right.

Up until the age of 9 I believed her. I thought my mama knew everything, but I guess nobody really knows everything, huh?

I'm Lennon by the way. I turned 17 just last October.

And yes, my mama was-and still is- a hippie. I know Lennon and Hawk aren't very commom names you hear!

But anyways, here we are now. Shrewton. Population 302. Well I guess 305 now, but whatever.

Shrewton is like no other place I've lived in before. I've always lived in well known cities with thousands of people living there. I've lived in Chicago, NYC, Boston, Seattle, and a whole bunch of other places. Even Washington D.C. You see, my moms an artist. We live off the money she gets from selling her paintings. Which isn't much. She doesn't have a real job. I can't remember the last time she actually did. Maybe when I was 5 or 6.

She was a teacher. A great one apparently. Can you guess what she taught?

Art...

My gram and pop spent tons of money for her to go to college and she choses to be an art teacher.....Theres nothing wrong with being an art teacher, except when you become a teen mother at 15 and are struggling to make ends meet.

My gram and pop were willing to pay anything as long as she actually was passing. If I had a kid at 15 and had the money for college, I'd go through hell and back to get a good job that would be able to support my family.

She didn't. She only thought about herself.

Now I'm not saying she's a bad mama, but she's just a little selfish. She likes to put her needs before her childrens. I;m grown up enough to take care of myself, but little Hawk isn't.

I was brought out of my thoughts when the tires schreeched to a stop. I flew forward and hit my head on the dash.

"Ow, mom!", I yelled.

"We're here!", she exclaimed, totally ignoring me.

I rolled my eyes and took out my headphones, stopping Whitesnakes Here I Go Again for a moment.

I looked around and sighed. Don't get me wrong, the house looked great, too great.

I knew this house was too expensive for us. Especially in such a small town that I'm betting won't care for mama's painting s at all.

I sighed again. Except for the stench, I liked it already here. The view was beautiful. Green trees and grassy fields, and farms. I loved it all.

Don't get to used to it, I told myself.