Anonymous | Ashton Irwin |

Boulevard Of Broken Dreams

It has been a year since I haven't seen him. But his figure is fading before my eyes. I've slightly forgotten about him, not everyday I am thinking about Fletcher. I wrote a song about him and I want to send that message to him, like, when it's a hit on the radio or somethin'.

It is the beginning of summer, again. I don't play near the store, anymore, nor do I buy anymore movies. I've decided to save it for the bus fare or something to get me to Capital Records.

Right now, I am eating dinner with my family. It was really quiet. A random rhythm played in my head and I started to tap on the table and hum.

Alex abruptly pound the table and yelled to me,"What part of 'you suck' do you not understand?!"

I ignored him and continued a little louder on purpose, just to get him even more pissed.

My mom complained to the both of us,"Will you both, please stop and eat our dinner peacefully?!"

A moment of silence of eating. Then, I couldn't help it, but to continue playing without recently recalling to stop.

This time, my mom rudely shouted,"I said to shut up, Priscilla!"

"I'm sorry mom, I can't help it." I honestly apologized.

"It's not like music is going to make you a success in the future." Alex said.

"Shut up, it's not like video games is gonna make you a big success, either." I come back.

"Well at least I've accomplished something in my school and now in a school that is best for my future! You haven't accomplished anything you worthless-stupid-piece of shit!" Alex insulted.

My mom yelled out between our argument,"You know what?! Priscilla, just go to your room and eat. There! Problem solved! And I can be able to eat in peace."

I stood up with the plate in my hands and muttered,"You don't appreciate me."

"What?" my mom was confused.

I continue a little more bold,"You don't accept me for who I am. Well I'm gonna show you who I am and who I want to be. You guys expect me to be someone like you, or just like you -Alex." I glanced a glare at him."This house is not a home for me, and I can't wait to leave this misery." I marked my words before I went in my room without a door to slam.

I don't think I should tell them where I am about to go. They don't deserve to know. They don't deserve to leave this city with me. I can't become an easy target for them to have an easy way out of this misery. This is my life, my road. I think I am better off alone. Tonight, I'm going to leave.

I waited for hearing everybody snore asleep. As soon as I did, I got up, stole some money from my mom, and slung my guitar case over my shoulders before I climbed out of my window and started to run away. I took out the information card and read the map to head to the record company.

I started in a cab, to the Metro, to Downtown L.A. where it's near a USC college. I decided to find a place to stay, more like a safe hideout so nobody will be concerned about me being lost or whatever that's in peoples' minds. I walked into an LAX airport building and saw a brunette boy -about my age- playing an acoustic guitar in the middle of a crowd. He was really good.

I walk over to him, slowly, putting twelve dollars in his guitar case.

"Alright. What can I do for ya?" he said in a slang accent. I shrugged and he started to strum and sing like an angel,"Oh, oh, Oh Lean on me/ When you're not strong/ And I'll be your friend/" I wanted to play along with him, but out of nowhere, I reached to pluck a string. He moved back as he crankily said,"Whoa, whoa, hey! Nobody touches my Naxor, except me!" his guitar's name is Naxor..... cool. He continued,"You know what, I'm outta here."