Phoebe's Story

Chapter 2

I walk over to another guest that is looking at my painting of how I view the world. It's a big canvas with a globe, and it has lots of colors. I view the world, soft yet stern, it has it's ups and downs, and warm and filled with bright things that catches people eye. Then there is a big question mark in the middle, because the world is also a mystery to me. I guess to everyone it has to be a mystery, there is always going to be a question or two that no one can answer.

"Phoebe, grab your guitar they want to hear you sing" My moms say, there are about 10 people behind her looking at me, gosh.

"Do I have too?" I whine,

"Yes, now go get it" She orders, my dad looks pretty interested to hear me, only my mother has heard me sing. I practice away from everyone, so my mom had heard me sing once. It's not like I'm afraid to sing in front of a lot of people, it's just it's a lot of work for people who came to see art not me sing. I come back with my guitar and sit on the chair.

"What are you going to sing?" Austin appears out of no where and asks, oh god, no, now I'm a little nervous.

"Uh- Big Yellow Taxi" I mumble, I have practiced this the most and I know all the lyrics. I start with the the first part, all guitar but the singing comes quick.

"They paved paradise and put up a parking lot" I sing, and continue with the song, I notice my dad smiling. And people gathering. Then I finish, thank god that's over. People are clapping.

"Another?" I ask my mom, I am actually feeling confident.

"Yes please" She replies and my dad is smiling at me, I start singing titanium. The only other song I know completely. After they have finished clapping I quickly get up, say thank you, and return to my room. I set the guitar down and plop down on the little pink and white couch in my room. I look around the light is warm and dim, and I look at my massive bed that has two comforters on it. One a plain white and the white with pink flowers, spirals and trees. I had learn to knit, so a blanket made out of yarn was on my bed. The blanket was filled with crazy amounts of pastel colors. Much like my closet, I like very soft pinks, blues, purples, and red. I rarely ever were orange or something neon. I don't like thinks dark, like black and darks shades unless I'm painting with them. I glance at the arm chair, that is covered with my art supplies. And then my desk with my apple computer on it, I had found certain markers that I could use them to color on the sides of the computer. I drew little trees, kittens, ribbons, music notes, peace signs, and me and my best friend, London. I met London when I was practicing my guitar on the bleachers at school, turns out she like to play too. That where I learned most of my notes, like many people she was amazed by my art. That was when I was 14, I had quit guitar for a year to practice me art but we still remained friends. Long lines of beads hung down from the entrance to my room, I rarely closed the door, but I had painted the door too.

Just then I hear someone move the beads, it was Austin.
"You play good" He says, walking over and sitting next to me on the couch.

"Thanks" I say, I can't believe he is sitting next to me. The question is why is he sitting next to me? Just to thank me, no. He needs to ask me something.

"I know this is a weird question, but how old are you?" I was dying to ask that,

"23" He says then examines my room, "wow, very creative, who is that?" He says pointing to the painting on my wall, it was the picture I painted of me and London.

"My best friend" I say, I don't feel like including her name.

"She has pink hair?" He asks, and I look at it. I remember when I drew that she had pink hair, now it's blue but she is always dying it crazy colors.