I left my home in the middle of the night, my face throbbing, nothing on me but a backpack that was full of clothes, food, and every cent I had to my name, and my guitar. I didn't look back.

I waited sleeplessly for the rest of the night and by the time the sun rose I found a place with good acoustics far enough away from "home."

I opened my guitar case, tuned my guitar, and began to sing.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

Under a bridge in a quiet park with my guitar case open in front of me, I sang from sunrise to sunset. Even when there was no one to hear me. And as the street lamps flickered on, my voice flickered out. As it cracked and faded I felt hot tears slide down my cheeks.

I put my guitar away, on top of the crumpled one's and scattered coins. I slung my guitar over my shoulder and trudged away to find a place to sleep, tears still streaming down my face.