Frays left from the ties you severed
Chapter one.
Sat on her bed, Jessie strummed a few chords on her old second hand acoustic guitar. Her fingers were worn out, the skin broken and blistered bearing the hours of her hard work. . Her bright emerald eyes focused on the patterns her fingers formed, as she tried to make the transitions between chords smoother.
The tattered DC’s she wore on her feet, tapped to the rhythm she was strumming. Flecks of mud were splattered on the once blue design as the shoes hadn’t been cleaned since the latest festival she had attended. The guitar was scratched and dented, the colour fading and burn marks clearly showing. It also had old sticker marks which lingered around the body though some still remained with band names or quotes from films she enjoyed. Also scrawled across the chipped paintwork in black marker pen were the lyrics, ‘Call me a safe bet, I’m betting I’m not’ and ‘I am on the mend’. She knew the guitar she held was worthless but it meant the world to her. Unable to afford a more expensive model, this second hand one she was given for her 17th birthday by her best friend was priceless to her.
Setting down the instrument she picked up an old elastic band and tied her auburn hair up. Throwing an oversized hoodie over her slim body she glanced at a picture on her wall. A young male with dark long hair and a fringe that flopped lazily into his brown eyes was laughing, arm around an 18 year old girl with piercing green eyes, Jessie. Though she knew when the picture was taken and how happy they both were. Laughing at a comment made by another friend of how in her words “What? I thought they were from Asia ... not India”. They were both laughing so hard when the picture was taken it was difficult to even comment on the stupidity of the statement. Yet now it felt as though the male in the picture was laughing at her, mocking her as she stood in her room alone. “Where are you Shaun?” She whispered out loud as she reached out and took the picture from the wall.
Placing it on her desk, she glanced at some letters from The University of Manchester. She sighed heavily, and attempted to forget the fact she was moving to University in 3 days time. She hadn’t packed a single thing and although university was everything Jessie once wanted, now things had changed and she dreaded attending. The course she chose to study was English Literature and American studies, she had always been fascinated by literature since she could remember and that one time her dad saved up enough money to take her to America had instantly sparked up an interest in the culture of the country.
Deciding to take her mind of the picture she grabbed a cardboard box and began packing for University. Never a person who was organised Jessie just began to throw a few clothes into a large bag, then chucked letters, photographs, notebooks and other personal memories into the cardboard box. Though the more things she placed into the box the more saddened she became. Each memory held some significance to Shaun in some way, whether photographs of him or ones she knew he had taken or whether it was a drawing from him given to her or a note scrawled from him. They were all too much for Jessie, so she grabbed the box and stuffed it under bed deciding not to take it to university. She was going to start a new life now and that meant to leave Shaun as he had left everyone else.
The tattered DC’s she wore on her feet, tapped to the rhythm she was strumming. Flecks of mud were splattered on the once blue design as the shoes hadn’t been cleaned since the latest festival she had attended. The guitar was scratched and dented, the colour fading and burn marks clearly showing. It also had old sticker marks which lingered around the body though some still remained with band names or quotes from films she enjoyed. Also scrawled across the chipped paintwork in black marker pen were the lyrics, ‘Call me a safe bet, I’m betting I’m not’ and ‘I am on the mend’. She knew the guitar she held was worthless but it meant the world to her. Unable to afford a more expensive model, this second hand one she was given for her 17th birthday by her best friend was priceless to her.
Setting down the instrument she picked up an old elastic band and tied her auburn hair up. Throwing an oversized hoodie over her slim body she glanced at a picture on her wall. A young male with dark long hair and a fringe that flopped lazily into his brown eyes was laughing, arm around an 18 year old girl with piercing green eyes, Jessie. Though she knew when the picture was taken and how happy they both were. Laughing at a comment made by another friend of how in her words “What? I thought they were from Asia ... not India”. They were both laughing so hard when the picture was taken it was difficult to even comment on the stupidity of the statement. Yet now it felt as though the male in the picture was laughing at her, mocking her as she stood in her room alone. “Where are you Shaun?” She whispered out loud as she reached out and took the picture from the wall.
Placing it on her desk, she glanced at some letters from The University of Manchester. She sighed heavily, and attempted to forget the fact she was moving to University in 3 days time. She hadn’t packed a single thing and although university was everything Jessie once wanted, now things had changed and she dreaded attending. The course she chose to study was English Literature and American studies, she had always been fascinated by literature since she could remember and that one time her dad saved up enough money to take her to America had instantly sparked up an interest in the culture of the country.
Deciding to take her mind of the picture she grabbed a cardboard box and began packing for University. Never a person who was organised Jessie just began to throw a few clothes into a large bag, then chucked letters, photographs, notebooks and other personal memories into the cardboard box. Though the more things she placed into the box the more saddened she became. Each memory held some significance to Shaun in some way, whether photographs of him or ones she knew he had taken or whether it was a drawing from him given to her or a note scrawled from him. They were all too much for Jessie, so she grabbed the box and stuffed it under bed deciding not to take it to university. She was going to start a new life now and that meant to leave Shaun as he had left everyone else.