Tabitha sat in the middle of her bed, its blankets covered in tab sheets and music books. She had a room all to herself now that they had expanded the mansion. Her room was her sanctuary. The one place where she could be herself and not be judged or looked critically upon. A place where she could be as wild or as mellow as she wanted. And thank God the walls blocked the sound in her room from going into the hall or people would be finding out how many different moods she had then the always wild and crazy one she had been pinned with.
Her dark blue fender rested in her lap and under the crook of her arm. Her electric guitar had helped her through the best of times and the worst of times. She had played when she was happy, when she was sad, and when she was just to bruised and battered to move anywhere else. This thing had traveled with her to six different states and had always been her best friend when no one else would come near her.
She had been careful to hide guitar from her father to protect it from one of his rages. So pretty and shiny, it would have been the first thing to draw her fathers attention. she smiled fondly at it now as she ran her thumb down the strings and the soft notes rang out dimly in the room. She was so used to having to hide her guitars that it was almost strange to hold it and not be afraid of someone bursting through the door and finding her with it.
She put her Switchfoot CD in the stereo and hit the track button until 24 began to play. she smiled as she played along. Her clear pure voice rang out through the room as she hit the chords and sang along.
She became part of the music as she felt all the notes ringing true in her soul. She smiled as the track ended and the CD stopped playing as she held onto her life long friend and thanked it for all the help it had given her over the years.
For those of you that have a special relationship with a guitar. you are not alone.