Losing It

From The View Of:Christopher Drew

My mother was obsessed with Christopher Drew. When I was born she named me Christopher and our last name just so happened to be Drew. That's how I came to share the name of a famous guy. Sometimes I swear that peple mistake me for him because  I always have girls swarming around me, asking me to sing to them. The thing is, I don't sing. Not in public anyways. I'd rather smoke. I live off of ciggarettes and my parents even buy them for me. When they got divorced, it was an easy way for them to make me happy so they agreed to buy me ciggarettes whenever I needed them.

I guess that's how I got here. A ciggarette in my hand and driving in my car beside a lake. I reach into the back seat to take her hand. The thing is, she isn't there. She cheated on me a week before I moved. That's one of the many reasons that I am here now, a month later in a brand new town. It sucked.

I pulled over and got of the car. I walked down the path that led to the parking lot of the lake. I clipped my keys to my belt loop and walked towards the edge of the lake with my cigarette still in my hand. I took a puff and flicked the ashes to the ground. It came so naturally that I could have been breathing.

I looked at the crystal blue water and thought about that cheating girlfriend. I remember screaming at her and then suddenly stopping.

I stood there and took a final puff of my ciggarette before dropping it to the ground and stomping on it to put it out. I then walked to the stone wall at the other end of the lake. I sat down and leaned back to catch the breeze that rolled off of the water.

At least the town was beautiful.

From The View Of:Josie Vazquez 

I wanted a new guitar pick but apparently the store was sold out. I could try somewhere else but they wouldn't have the same pick as they did here at Target. This was unbelievable. They were never sold out of guitar picks. This town was small and the amount of people that played guitar was even smaller.

Nobody understood what I was going through. Playing guitar and writing songs helped me get my feelings out. Painting did the exact same thing.

The guitar picks were sold out.

"Are you sure there aren't anymore?" A tear slipped out of my eye.

As I thought about the guitar pick, I couldn't help but think about my brother. He had been two years older than me and had just died in a car accident. He was the one who had taught me how to play guitar. He had wanted this special pick and now that he was gone, I wanted to get it for him. Our family was poor and my parents had refused him a new guitar pick because he already had a perfectly good one. We didn't even have enough money for a TV. With both of my parents working, we still didn't have enough to pay the bills so I got a job at the local restaurant. I had given all of the money I earned to my parents but after my brother died, I kept just enough for this guitar pick. I let my head drop as another tear slid down my cheek.

"You can buy the one on display I suppose." The clerk told me.

"Thank you." I whispered.

Another tear slid down my cheek and fell on the counter.

I gave the lady a hug and didn't let go until alost a minute later.

"Eighteen dollars please."

"I only have thirteen." I managed to get out.

"I can pay for the rest." The clerk gave me a warm smile.

 I couldn't believe my luck.

"Thank you." I said again.

I knew that this was going to be my lucky pick. My brother had wanted it so much before he died. This was like my way of saying goodbye.

The lady left for a few minutes and when she came back, her hand opened to reveal the guitar pick. It had a sun on it and in white letters it read: "Ain't Going Down Till' The Sun Comes Up" That had been my brother's favourite song and now it was mine as well.

I gave the lady my money and she gave me the guitar pick then I ran out of the building and down to the lake. The lake wasn't very big but it was like a second home to me. I picked up a piece of newspaper that was blowing on the ground and put it in the recycling bin. I sat down a little while away from the bin and pulled a candle and some matches out of my purse. It was starting to get dark so I lit the candle and then put the matches away.

My brother had loved candles and that's why I lit one whenever I came to the lake. It was the candle that he had given me on our last Christmas together. I really hoped he was in a better place.

I grabbed my guitar from the hollow tree where it was hidden. I never brought it home because if my parents knew that I had it, they would make me sell it for money. I began to play "Ain't Going Down Till' The Sun Comes Up" When I finshed the first verse I bagan to sing as well.