"Now where do I go?" I murmured to myself, the night's wind making my skirt fly around my thighs. I had no clothes suit enough for this weather. Actually, what I was currently wearing was the only outfit I had. I'd been walking around the whole day just staring at everyone's happy faces as they walk around jogging, or doing some shopping. Occasionally, I'd spot someone with an unpleasant face, which made me wonder if that's how unhappy I looked. I wondered what kind of problems those people were hiding behind their dark looks. Perhaps we had something in common, we were in each other's miserable company even though we were strangers. As the old saying goes, "misery loves company." I could do with any company I could get. In the two days of being in this city, my whole life has been a disaster. I came here running away from the pain of my old town, just to find myself almost getting into a brawl with an old, fat red headed lady at that rusty bar downtown. Then I ended up waking up in a dirt ditch, and here I am, walking around this dirty town like a zombie. With no where to go, like a lost puppy. I only know one person here, but I have no way of contacting her. It's my friend Heather, who moved here when we were 15. Ever since she left my life went downhill and I'm here hoping I'll find her and my life will turn around. But how am I going to find her? I need a miracle.
I walked for 2 more hours until my legs gave up on me, and I sat on a bus bench. I looked around to see if there were any cheap places to eat, but then I realized I had no money. Which sucked because my stomach was growling. I decided to walk to a little area of grass which looked like a park, but it only had two swings. I hoped onto one and I kicked myself off the ground, slowly swinging higher and higher into the air, my curly hair flying everywhere. An old man passed by and stared at me, but I didn't care. I was having fun, the fun I hasn't had in a long time. I kept swinging and swinging, laughing and feeling as if I were flying, with long beautiful white wings, flying anywhere I wish to go. I then saw a little girl in pig tails, staring up at me from the side of the swings, just staring with curiosity in her eyes. She took a step closer, making me nervous because I felt if she got a bit closer, she'd be the one flying in the air, minus the wings.
"How old are you?" she called out to me, startling me. I looked down at her as I kept swinging, making me feel dizzy. So I slowed down until my feet touched the ground, and I turned to her.
"I'm twenty." I whispered. She was the first person I spoke to since the bar fight, and for some reason it frightened me. She was so small, yet she held such power over me, making me feel smaller than her. I felt like recoiling under her curious, yet intense gaze.
"You look weird." she said. I looked around, hoping there was an escape. Until I saw a lady with brown long hair walking towards us. Just what I needed, a mother coming to yell at me for speaking to her young child.
"Excuse me, my daughter wants to use the swing, and I think you're a bit too old to be playing around her." The woman scowled at me, disapproving of my hair and clothing. I felt like slapping her, but I held myself back.
"Yes, you're right. Excuse me." I murmured, hoping off the swing and walking away as fast as I could; I could feel the little girl's gaze on me as I walked away.
I crossed the street and walked down a tiny alley full of shops, all kinds of shops. Art shops, vintage clothing boutiques, record stores, coffee shops, and thrift stores. I felt as if I were home, not my hometown, but home as in the place I belonged. I passed many stores, stopping to do a bit of window shopping. I then walked pass a man who had a table set up, a stack of cards, and about 5 cheap looking acoustic guitars. I had my eye on the black one, but the man was probably selling it for a high price; he looked like someone who'd sell cheap things for more. I stopped at his table and he looked up at me. He looked about fifty, and was wearing a Beatles shirt. /Typical/.
"Wanna have a go?" the man asked me, placing 5 cards upside down in front of me on the table.
"Go at what?" I asked. He looked at me and smiled, showing off a gold front tooth.
"Pick a card. If it's the card I was thinking about, you win a guitar of your choice. I'll let you play once for free." He smirked.
"You've gotta be joking. How many people have won at this?" I scowled. He leaned forward a bit them whispered, "none." He then leaned back and gave out a gargling laugh. His laugh pissed me off so I decided to give it a go.
"Fine then, can I pick now?" I asked, feeling annoyed.
"Go ahead, Darling." he smirked. I looked down at the cards, staring at them and hoping I'd grow super powers of some sort so that I could guess which was the correct card. I knew I'd get it wrong anyway, so I chose the 3rd to my left. I tapped my finger on it and the man slowly raised his eyebrows as he stared at the card I pointed at. I began to feel quite nervous so I looked at him with a questioning look. "What happened?" I asked him. He looked at me straight in the eye and gave me a untrustworthy look. I began to feel uncomfortable under his gaze so I wondered whether I should have walked away at that very moment. He then stood up and walked to the rack of guitars, and he turned to me. "Pick your poison." he glared. I couldn't believe my luck. Had I actually won? Was my life finally turning around? This was the dawning of the rest of my life. I just knew it. I didn't even have to say a word, the man already knew which guitar I wanted by the longing look I gave it. He picked up the shiny black guitar and placed it carefully on the table. He looked at me and he spoke in a cold voice, "There's your prize." I picked it up slowly and I ran my index finger down the front of the body. I looked at the man one more time before I turn and walked away with my new best friend.
I learned to play guitar at the age of six. My mother had taught me the basics before she left my father. I look at it as one last gift from her; a survival tip so that I could grow up as a well rounded person. That of course, is my mother's idiotic opinion of what a well rounded person is. I mean honestly, what use does knowing how to play guitar do to me? What, she thought I'd grow up to be a guitarist and become a millionaire? That's my mother, naive to the bone and a dreamer to the heart. But it still came in handy to me. Playing guitar had become my favorite pastime, in which I distracted myself from the modern age of hysteria around me. Basically my whole life had been shit but there was always a guitar around, so that I could strum away the pains of my youth. I never had my own guitar; I'd pick up anything around that had 6 strings, and I'd play. I'd sometimes use my best friend's guitar since she didn't care for it. And even though she never officially gave it to me, it was still unofficially mine. Oh my best friend, how I missed her. And here I was in her town, wandering around without a single clue of her whereabouts. I needed a miracle to find her at this point, or else I'll be waking up in a dirt ditch again tomorrow morning.
I walked for about a good two hours north of rodeo, until it hit me straight in the heart. Heather did not live in Rodeo... She lived in Jingletown! Oh how stupid could I be? I had to get to jingletown, but I had no way of getting there. I guess it was time to hitch a ride. I stood by an old road, where trucks were the only vehicles driving on the path. I stood there hoping I wouldn't run out of luck and some pedophile would pick me up. Suddenly I began to feel frightened for my safety. I sat on the edge of the sidewalk when a red car which happened to not be a truck, pulled up by my feet.
"Need a lift?" the man inside the car yelled. I stood up with my guitar and stared at the man. He looked extremely young, probably still a teenager. He was wearing eyeliner, and had black spiky hair. I'm not gonna lie, he was cute, but I wasn't looking for romance. I was looking for friendship.
"Yeah, I do. But I don't know how far it's from here. I'm trying to get to jingletown." I said.
"Oh I'm going to jingletown, too! I live over there with my girlfriend. By the way, my name is Will" He smiled, reaching over to open the door for me. I entered the car and I sat next to him; putting my guitar in the back seat. His car was really small, but it had this groovy vibe to it. He turned on the radio and out came The Clash, the tunes to my teenage years; the tunes to the dawning of the rest of my life as I drove down to that new town with this new person.
