Tell me if you guys like it, and if you want me to continue. :-) Thank you and enjoy!

I want to be in a band.
I want people to listen and love my music.
I want to feel the adrenaline rush of performing on stage, the crowd cheering me on.
I want them to go wild when my band and I walk out.
I want boys to lust after me.
I want to find a guy on tour and fall in love with him- a deep, passionate, fiery love.
But I don't want the fame or the paparazzi. I just want my music and the fans to love it as much as I do.
Is that normal, though? Not wanting anything to do with the flashing cameras or the money?
Most people would love to have the chance- I know that for a fact. But none of that appeals to me.
I'd like to have my privacy, thank-you very much.
I'm Tris Prior, 16, singer and songwriter. I also play guitar, but what use is any of this if I can't share it?
That's why I want to start a band.
I already know whom I want with me: Uriah and Zeke- brothers who both play instruments- and Christina, one of my best friends. I've already mentioned the idea to them, and they all seem to be game.
We met for the first time last week, over at Zeke and Uriah's garage. We went over instruments, vocals, song ideas, band names, etc.… It went over the hour we planned it to be, but none of us minded. Well, Zeke was getting kind of antsy, claiming he needed to be somewhere, so he left a little earlier. That was fine, though. We had fun just randomly playing.
I want this to be something serious, though. I want it to end up actually happening, turning a dream into reality…

"'Tend your lights, 'cause on this night, I'll be coming home…!'" I sing along to Coming Home, bobbing my head and jumping around in my dark red bedroom. I hear my door being shoved open so I turn around to see my 'older' brother, Caleb, smirking.
"Whataya want? I'm kinda busy…" I tell him.
"Doing what? Jumping?" He retorts.
"I know I can't dance, so leave it be… What did you really come in here for?"
"Mom and dad want you to turn your music down." I groan. "Plus, I might've complained a bit because I was trying to read-"
"GET OUT!" He smirks again and slams my door. "Jerk!"
"Love you too!" Comes a muffled response. UGH.
Why does he have to be so annoying?
Doesn't he have anything better to do?
Oh, wait, no. He doesn't. Just likes to be anti-social and read and play stupid video games.
Reading is really the only good thing he does, though it still doesn't get him out of the house much. Oh well.
The day he goes to the beach, without a book, and actually gets in the water, will probably be the day he gives it all up for a girl.
Hopefully a real girl, and not some fictional character, 'cause though I may love reading, too, his case is SERIOUS. Like, really bad.
Anyway…
I turn my music down- just a little bit- for my parents. NOT Caleb.
I click on 'Hail to the King' and pause it. I take my electric guitar off of its stand and let the strap slide onto my shoulder. I walk back over to my computer and click play. As Syn starts playing, so do I.
This is the easy part.
I've been trying to teach myself how to play it. So far, I haven't been horrible, but I'm not that good yet. I hope to be, though. Some day.
A loud banging makes me look at the door. I stop playing and pause the song.
"Yeah?" I ask. The door opens and my mom walks in.
"Tris, hun. Could you please keep it down?" She asks me, a pleading note in her voice. I sigh.
"OK." I make a move to take off my guitar, but I stop.
"Thank-you." She starts to walk out.
"But can I just pick at it?" She looks at me.
"Write as many songs as you want, just don't bash your guitar."
"Thank-you!" I singsong. She shuts the door, laughing. I grab a random notebook and open it up to a blank page, then fling it on my bed. I snatch a pen from my desk and then sit down, cradling my guitar.
Now for a little inspiration… hmm…
I stare at the page, multiple ideas forming in my mind.
A thread… a broken heart… Maybe a needle sewing it back together?
I start writing.

Pierce in the heart
a thread filled with pain.
A tear down the middle,
left in the rain.
I tap my pen against my notebook, moving it between my fingers. Maybe…
Erase it from your mind,
start it all over.
What rhymes with over?
Pictures in your head
of a past lover, and oh…
My pen writes on its' own.
Do you wish to be reminded of a happier time,
One that you can't get back?
Do you wish to look forward
to something, you might never have?
I tap my pen four times…
Dare to take control
while falling under.
A blanket of snow,
calls on surrender.
My hand moves a little faster, my writing coming out a little messier…
Erase all your doubts,
regret no mistakes.
Trying not to falter,
when your heart's at stake, oh…
Chorus: Do you wish to be reminded…
Time for the last verse…
What might work?
Why try to look
stronger than you really are?
You're bleeding inside,
from the pieces of a shattered heart.
Try to fill the hole,
missing what you need.
Trying to grow…
Seed rhymes with need. How do I fit that in that sentence? Her tears are basically watering the seed, so she can grow. They make her stronger.
But how would I phrase that?
Your tears watering the seed.
Chorus, x2

I read over it a few times.
Sounds pretty good.
Now I just need to give it a name and some music…

And yes, I DID write that song.