Crash – Six Years Ago
When the bell rang for the end of the day I was already in one of the little music practice rooms at school. I'd skipped last period because I had a song brewing and I wanted to work on it. And it wasn't like my mom ever checked the phone messages anyway.
As the pounding feet and yelling voices of everyone getting the hell away from school began to fade, I sat on the hard bench at the piano and tried to tune my guitar. One of the pins kept slipping and I was pissed. I needed to replace the pin, and the strings—which I prayed wouldn't snap every time I played now since they were already old when I got the guitar three years ago. Because where was I going to find the money for new ones? And a new tuning pin? Those things weren't expensive, but having the guy at the store fit it and restring the guitar cost twenty bucks I didn't have and wasn't likely to get for who knew how long.
