Chapter 2:

After Sam left, I turned to my bags. They were both large, and they held all of my relatively cooler clothes. In one I had my Miley clothes, and in the other I had my Hannah clothes. I couldn't leave without it.

I grabbed the Miley bag first, opened it, and started to put up my clothing in the dresser. I would leave the closet for Hannah.

After I put my clothes in the dresser, I looked at the bottom of the bag and saw my decoration. I had posters and books and cd's. There were some shelves on the side of the wall near the desk, so I put my books and cd's there, while hanging up my posters on the walls.

I grabbed the Hannah bag and opened it up. There was the lovely wig, outfits, and signed pictures and cd's. I grabbed it all and put it in the closet. Once I was one, I shut the door. I didn't want to see any part of my Nashville life today. It would only make me miss it more and more confused as to why I wanted to come here in the first place.

I looked at my guitar case and decided I would relieve my stress. I opened the case and saw my baby. It was an acoustic guitar, with signatures of all the most famous artists in the world. From Billy Ray himself, to me, Hannah Montana. I took Sam's Song from my bag and thought it would be nice to start my trip with my favorite song, even if he wouldn't like it.

I got off the bed and grabbed some rags from a old drawer in the hallway, and when I got back I stuffed them in the space between the door and the floor. Now he won't be able to hear me.

Having my guitar in hand, I sat in position on the blue and white striped bed, my music sheet in front of me. I started.

You tucked me in, turned out the light
Kept me safe and sound at night
Little girls depend on things like that

Brushed my teeth and combed my hair
Had to drive me everywhere
You were always there when I looked back

You had to do it all alone
Make a living, make a home
Must have been as hard as it could be

And when I couldn't sleep at night
Scared things wouldn't turn out right
You would hold my hand and sing to me

Caterpillar in the tree
How you wonder who you'll be
Can't go far but you can always dream

Wish you may and wish you might
Don't you worry, hold on tight
I promise you there will come a day
Butterfly fly away

Butterfly fly away, butterfly fly away
Flap your wings now you can't stay
Take those dreams and make them all come true

Butterfly fly away, butterfly fly away
We've been waiting for this day
All along and knowing just what to do
Butterfly, butterfly, butterfly, butterfly fly away

Butterfly fly away
Butterfly fly away

God, sometimes I wish he would still be like that. I got off the bed to grab the rags still underneath the door. I grabbed them, then opened the door to put them away. I noticed it was still silent.

I grabbed my music sheet for Sam's Song and went downstairs for a drink.

I went through the hallway and entered the living room. Everyone was still there, only this time they were speaking in low voices. They were all huddled together and stopped talking as soon as I entered the room.

Ignoring them as I went to the kitchen, which was attached to the kitchen so I could still see them talking, I went to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of Coke and chugged. Living with Cousin Jackson had its backfires.

After chugging half of it in two gulps, I turned to the group in the living room. On my way, I saw a container holding pencils and pens and such, and I grabbed one.

I hadn't made a final copy of Sam's Song, and I decided it should be on paper. I hadn't titled the page, so I quickly wrote Sam's Song in big letters on the front.

Crossing the living room again, somebody from the group of huddlers asked, "Is that what you were playing upstairs?"

I hadn't realized that anybody was listening, so I was nervous. I didn't want some crazy Hannah fan blowing my secret an hour into my visit.

"Yeah. How did you hear? I stuck rags in the bottom of the door to stop sound coming through." I told him. He was tall and muscular like Sam. Actually, they all were. They had that look that told me that they were right and I was wrong.

"Must not have been able to stop my super hearing! But, anyways, it's really good. You should sing more often." He said. He seemed generally happy for me. It was weird.

"Yeah. Maybe."

I was walking up the hallway when I heard the same guy, or at least I thought the same guy; ask "What's the name of it?"

I froze. I didn't want Sam to know that I made a song for him. He wouldn't like it, and he would criticize it like before. I had almost entered my room when I whispered,

"Sam's Song"