I Sing For You

Chapter 1

A/N:  Hey! New story!  Please be sure to read the description thingy!! It'll make more sense when reading the story:)

A C cord, then a G cord, then repeated.  I smiled softly to myself because it was finally working.  I taught myself to play the guitar.  There was still work to bee done, but i was strumming, and it didn't sound like screeching tires on the road.  I started humming, and began to experiment a little more, trying to play a song I knew.

But the bell rang.

I put my guitar back into it's case, slung my backpack over my shoulder, and hustled out into the hallway, fighting through the crowd of teenagers with my obnoxious guitar.  I climbed the stairs to the second floor, and walked into English 10.  I didn't take advanced courses because I thought it was a waste.  All I have ever wanted was music, and I was cool with regular classes.

When I went in, I got the usual 'you're a creep' stares from the kids, and took my lonely seat in the back of the classroom.  I set my guitar down beside me.  I tried to pay attention to my teacher talking about our next novel we had o finish by the end of the week.  I couldn't stop thinking about me finally figuring out the guitar.  I hoped my dad was looking down at me from somewhere, smiling because he was proud.  It was his guitar.  He used to play songs for my mom and I when I was little, before he went off to war.

"Jordan," my teacher said, snapping me out of my thought. "When is the essay on 'Animal Farm' due?" she asked, testing me to see if I was paying attention.  Nope.

I shrugged.  I didn't talk much at all at school.  She looked at me for a really long time, and then went on with explaining how many pages it needed to be and stuff.  Eventually the never ending class ended, and I got to go to chemistry, which was a little more bearable.

"Hey Jordan, wait a minute," Mrs.Clemons asked.  Oh boy, this meant possible talking.  I spun around to face her, letting out an annoyed sigh.  I set my guitar down and crossed my arms to show my annoyance.  "I'm worried about you.  At the beginning of the year, your grades were fairly decent, but now they are dropping.  Is something going on?" she asked.  I knew she was trying to sound gentle, but I couldn't hold back the rage.

My mom is getting worse.  When i'm not playing music, it's me trying to take care of her.  I know I should call a doctor, or a therapist of some sort, but if they take her away fro me, I'll be even more alone than I am now.  Even though she isn't well, I can't loose her.  

I shook my head, and ran off to my next period class, waiting for myy next period which was free.

During free periods I would go down to the auditorium and practice, or record myself with the unused laptop.  I delete all of my recordings after.  Earlier I was just practicing the guitar, so i didn't have time to record anything.

I went into the auditorium.  There was a piano in the center of the stage.  The piano was always my favorite.  I debated whether to practice guitar more, or play the piano.

I went with the piano since it was my last free period of the day.  I gave up all of my electives to get all free periods.  I know I might have to repeat, but music is the only thing I can afford to fall back on right now.

I sat down on the leather seat and played a few basic cords.  I played some scales and some warm up songs.  Then I stopped.  

What was I feeling?  I was feeling ticked off at the fact that Mrs. Clemons had the nerve to even ask me what was wrong.  She knew the circumstances.  She knew I didn't talk to anyone here.  She knew I was a military kid with a dysfunctional mother.  But most of all, I was feeling what I was always feeling.  The grief from the loss of my dad, even if it was a couple years ago.  He left me like this, with wounds in my heart and mind.  I missed him, like always.

My Immortal, Evanescence.

I began to run my fingers over the keys, playing that beautiful beginning melody.  I pressed the pedals every now and then, but this song was mostly about the melody and chords.  Then, I sang. 

"I'm so tired of being here.... suppressed by all my, childish fears....And if you have to leave, I wish that you would just leave, 'cause your presence still lingers here...." I said, trying my hardest to make my voice sound thick and strong like Amy Lee's.  I was probably failing miserably.  

I remember the first time I tried singing, in music class in first grade. I sang louder than everyone else in my class.  I was so into the song I didn't stop, even when everyone else stopped singing to look at me.  When it was over, i was the only one singing.  The music teacher stared at me in awe, and said, "You have pipes," I remember blushing so hard, thinking it was an insult.  I never sang loud like that again. I always blended my voice with the other kids.

Because piano was my original instrument, I turned to that when my dad died.  That's when I tried singing again.  Then I tried other instruments.  Sure, I had terrible stage fright, but I liked to pretend that I had an audience.

"And it won't leave me alone.  These wounds won't seem to heal.  This pain is just too real.  There's just too much that time cannot erase," I sang, smiling because my voice amplified throughout the auditorium.  This was one of the few songs I felt confident on.  Normally it took me forever to learn a song and sound decent on it.  I could always go to this song, to express my feelings about loosing my dad.  "When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears....When you'd scream, I'd fight away all of your fears" I sang, even though it was the opposite for me.  My dad fought away my fears.  He made me feel safe.

I thought I heard something coming from the left entrance to the stage, but I ignored it and kept singing.  I wanted my dad to hear every word, and constantly be reminded that he left me....Don't get me wrong, I loved him and would do anything to get him back.  But he affected so many more people than just himself, and for some odd reason, I blame him.  Sometimes I wish that I had that 'oblivion' spell from Harry Potter so the gaps in my life would be filled.

I finished the song, ending with long, drawn out notes. "All of me," I sang, and eventually ended.  I smiled sadly, and sat there for a minute.  Then I heard slow clapping, and looked over to the left of the stage.  Raymond Banks.  Everyone called him Ray for short.  I've never once talked to him, and wasn't planning on it, until he said:

"You have a beautiful voice,"

____________________________________________________________________________________

__________________________________________________________________________________

___________________________________________________________________________________

First chapter :) Thoughts?

-Cheesy Writer