His Lost Guitar ❥ l.h

❥ Prologue ❥

I groaned. Thank god it's Friday. I might have died if it was any other day. It's been a long week. A horrible week.

I say down on a random bench at a small little park on the way back to my house. I would drive because its a half an hour drive without traffic and such but my car is in the shop. So I took the bus halfway and I have 15 minutes to walk. I was almost to Central Park and then I would be 5 minutes to my house. I live in an apartment with my mom and little sister, who had recently caught a cold from playing outside too long without proper clothing.

So along with my car in the shop, my sister is sick, my mom is working too much, I haven't been able to study for tests, I haven't hung out with my friends, and I'm ready to yank my hair out. I'm so happy this week is finally over.

Just for the record, I'm a senior at Celia Cruz High School of Music. I'm there for singing and playing piano.

I stand up and hold my arms above my head and stretch out. Turning to pick my bag off the bench I see that there's a guitar case leaning against the wall, it squeezed in between the wall and bench.

I carefully slide it out as to not damage the case and open it. I stare in wonder at the well taken care of, yet well used acoustic guitar. It had a couple scratches and was a little worn. It was obviously played a lot and it was definitely loved. I slipped the strap over my shoulder and played the only two chords I knew. It was tuned. That meant it was only here for a little while or else it wouldn't have been. The cold weather would have made sure of that.

I inspected the case but only found one thing that would help me find out who this case belonged to.

Two initials.

L.H.