The Lyrics That Brought Us Together

Chapter 1: Lost In Thoughts That Wouldn't Come

I quietly strummed the guitar I've grown to love. I've learned all the flaws of the guitar, everything their is to know about this guitar. I've even named him. Yes, my guitar is a boy (because I play him, if you know what I mean wink wink). A boy named Austin. Austin and I have been through so much together. When my heart was broken, Austin helped me get through it. When I'm happy, sad, confused, lost, excited, or doubtful I go to Austin. But I think I'm getting ahead of myself.

My name is Samantha Rose Indlee. But I'm never called Samantha Rose. For some people I'm Sammy, others I'm Sammy Rose, there's a huge list.

Sammy, Sammy Rose, Sam, Sam Rose, Sa Ro (I have weird friends), Indlee, ect.

I have jet black shoulder-length hair. I wish it was curly, but it's always completely straight. I have hazel eyes, and I'm pretty short. I know, I don't have the most individual look, but whatever.

I have tons of really close friends, and I've heard lots of people say that they like me. That's the thing. I'm not ugly, but I don't deem myself as drop-dead gorgeous, either. People would say I'm popular, I say I'm mutually known and liked. People say I'm a genius, I say I can resourcefully remember facts and try to keep my grades up. But I am 100% NOT a slut, and never will be. I am not a virgin, but I thought he was the one. Earlier when I said stuff about getting my heart broken, yeah, put the pieces together. He said he loved me, acted as if he was into me and only me, and after a good year, I trusted him. Big mistake. He waited around until I would, than left me right after. I was distraught, and the only thing that took my mind off of it was Austin. I acted like I was okay around other people, but I wasn't. I gave up on dating after that.

I am a musician. Huge musician. I sing, play guitar (acoustic and electric), play piano, play flute, somewhat play drums, and I dabble a little in trumpet and trombone. I absolutely love music. It's my passion. I can easily remember/memorize lyrics, I'm pretty good at remembering notes and measures and stuff like that in music. I write songs, and I play songs already written.

At the moment, I was trying to think of lyrics to an upbeat song I had recently written the music to. It had only been 3 and a half weeks since I have been back to normal from the breakup. Upbeat lyrics are kind of hard for me to write because...well, you know. I've probably been thinking for hours. I have to go to bed soon, considering I have school tomorrow. I'd written down ideas but nothing was coming together. It just wouldn't work. I set the music aside, and continued to work on a slower song I was almost finished with.

When I only had a line or so for the ending and about half of a bridge left, I put my guitar away and went to sleep.

That night I dreamt about living my dream. Cheesy and cliche, yes, but I want to be a singer. I wanted the flaws of fame, too. No matter what the cost, I wanted to be known for my singing and songwriting. I knew there would be crazed fans, and creepy stalkers, and annoying paparazzi, and stupid rumors. I wanted it all.

I had this dream almost every night. I was singing on a stage in front of a small crowd. I had nothing but my mics, my guitar, and a stool. At first, it seemed as if people didn't like it that much. But after a while, people were up on their feet slightly dancing to the beat (hehe that rhymed!) and they obviously liked the song. I got a standing ovation on the end, and won a trophy, but I don't know what for. I didn't even know where I was.

The next thing I knew, I was in a ginormous arena, with thousands of people. They were all screaming and shouting. There was a crew of workers and people like that backstage, by me. Then they started telling me I had about a minute until I was due onstage. Half a second before I walked on, I woke up. Always at that spot.