1st place in ChickLit Discovery Awards!
1st place in ChickLit Doughnut Awards!
Reached #1 in beingalone on 07/08/2019
"I floated away at the hands of the wind, seldom resisting the manipulation..."
Meet Rosalyn-or Ro- as she goes by, a beautiful, k...
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A/N: Hey reader! Really happy to have you here. By some miracle, you have stumbled upon this book, and for that, I am immensely thankful. If you feel like it, let me know what you think in the comments, but silent readers are great too :) This is my first book and I am super excited to share it with y'all, so get excited!!!! I update daily so stay tuned <3.
"I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing, with a broken heart that's still beating..." I sang as my calloused fingers gently brushed the fingertips of my beat-up guitar. I softly hummed the rest of the melody, allowing the words of Lifehouse to envelop me. My neighbors were probably fed up by my twilight hour music, strumming at 3 AM, but honestly, I didn't care-I wasn't sure of how many more nights like this I would get.
I picked another favorite, Changing Tides by The Fray, and closed my eyes. My fingers moved along the strings, the melody resonating in my small room. This song had always been a favorite, making me feel hopeful, that even when things were at their worst, maybe, there was the smallest chance of things changing...hopefully for the better...
I awoke to the incessant ringing of my alarm clock. Annoying, compared to the beautiful songs I had fallen asleep to. To say the least, I was irritated. I had forgotten about the morning shift I had, so four hours of sleep would have to do- four very crappy hours of sleep. I fell asleep on the floor with my guitar stuck under my neck, and in return, I was given a massive crick in my neck.
Yay- Note the sarcasm.
A great way to start the break. I was 19, about to begin the summer after high school, supposedly the time to live freely, with no consequences, before college began. But that didn't seem to be my story. With no plan in sight, I was living day by day, letting life pass me by.
Getting up from the ground, I must have looked like Bambi trying to skate on ice, my butt coming up first and my arms flailing, trying to grasp at the ground for balance.
Graceful, I know.
But what really won the prize, was my face. Just wow. It looked like a bird had made a home in my hair and the bags under my eyes looked like air mattresses-queen sized.
I attempted to make myself presentable, but it was no use. My hair was not cooperating, a messy bun would have to suffice. Already late, there was no time for makeup, a quick wash and I was out. I slipped on my uniform and a pair of hightops, quickly glancing at myself in the mirror. Mo was gonna throw a fit. Whatever. I grabbed my guitar and keys and skirted to the car.
My car was my baby. A silver 1998 Honda CRV, it was ancient and was ready to give out at any point, but I liked to think it had character. I turned the ignition on and it sputtered to life. Every time I heard the slight cough of the engine, I got nervous, thinking this would be the end, but so far, everything seemed okay.
