SUNDAY

What if you dreamt of your death? Cam does. In infinite detail.

I woke up. Having remembered to close my curtain properly, it was almost lunchtime. I skipped eating and pulled on some clothes before settling into my worn corner chair, guitar in hand. I looked down at the lines I had scribbled the day before. They reverberated through my head. They still made so much sense to me. I plugged my guitar into the amp.

A few chords later I still wasn’t getting anywhere. I stared and stared at the lyrics, they just felt so right. But I wasn’t sure how to translate them into music, how to get their message across. I tried a few more chords until I was interrupted by banging on my door. I strode across the room and pulled it open. My father stood on the other side, glaring at me, face red. He ordered me to turn the volume down or stop playing. I shut the door and walked back over to the chair.

I thought of Katie. Her hair. Her smile. Her smell. I thought of how I felt when I was around her. And of how she despised me and accused me of ruining everything. I picked up my pen and wrote:

What did you think would happen to us?

What did you think I would do if we fucked…

It all up?

Now it’s gone.

There it goes.

Burnt.

I placed the pen gently on the arm of the chair and pulled the guitar back up into my arms. Humming to myself, I started again to try and find the right chords. It was unusual that nothing was coming to me. I was better than this. I was blocked. Too full of anger, and hatred. Another smatter of bashing on my door. This time my sister yelled through, telling me to shut up or give up or something similar.

I tried for a few more minutes, trying desperately to find the tune. Nothing. I gave up, angry with myself for taking my sisters advice, for adhering to her complaint, for failing. I sat there for several long moments, my mind blank. Then I thought of Katie again. Then I thought of how much of a failure I really was.

I lay on the bed, snapping my headphones over my ears and turning the volume on my iPod up to loud, drowning out my sister. Drowning out anger. Downing out the world.

Reviews

[Jenny DelVecchio]

music is a great escape. I like the way you use arts for his emotional release, it really is incredibly important in teen life.