Back to December

As Taylor sung the lyrics out loud, she strummed the strings of her guitar in one smooth motion to the chords of the three lined song she had written. The song was merely one of the many ideas she had been toying around with lately, and now she had the time to actually do it.

It was going to be about love, and heart break. About wanting someone back after trying her hardest to get him. She waited, and waited. For a long, long time. And he never came.

Taylor felt the familiar electric thrill in her insides when she starts writing a song. It was like a wave of utter heat, power and adrenaline rising and crashing incessantly.

The melody was meant to be slow and dramatic all throughout the song. But it wasn’t going to be like any other song she had written. This was something fresh and new. She could feel it. This was going to be her best yet.



No, wait, scratch that, she thought. Taylor flipped her number two pencil over with her fingers and began erasing the words that she had scribbled on her journal page with sharp, forceful motions that her the paper almost ripped apart.



Taylor stopped writing and froze, with the pencil between her fingers still as ever on the paper. What am I doing? I can’t believe I thought this would work. She tore out the page and crumpled it angrily with both her hands, and threw it in the direction toward the trashcan beside her vanity table, but she missed.

Haven’t I already written something like this? To Taylor, the song sounded all too common and cliché like something she has done before.

Angrily, she thrust her guitar aside and threw her journal to the wall.

“Taylor, what’s going on in there?” Taylor heard her mom’s voice from the hall.

She did not answer. Instead, from her cross-legged sitting position, she let herself fall flatly on her bed with her legs stretched out as far as she could.

The heat and adrenaline was gone, and it was replaced by a strange, unknown feeling.

What was this feeling? Anger? Emptiness? Loneliness? Or was she just incredibly tired?

Whatever it was, it’s killing her.

The past year had been good for her, of course. So many good things had come to her in such a short time. Everything was more than she could ask for. Her dream had come true. Not too many people could say that. It was so strange to think that not too long ago, she was fourteen, sitting on this exact same bed, writing songs.

She was lucky, and she knew that.

But there were other aspects in her life that she wasn’t so good at. Like love, for example.
Taylor did not want to think about how many times her relationships had failed, especially her most recent ones. Those were behind her now. It was stupid of her to even still think about it.

Did she actually ever love any of them? Or was it true what they said that she was only using them for inspiration, and discarding them as if they were just chewing gum, with their flavor and sweetness sucked out of them?

Still, she had those moments when she would stop and those fragments of her memories would flood back to her like water would flow through a broken dam. All of them were a part of her, no matter what. She had given them a piece of her that would hopefully stay with them forever.

Out of all of them, though, there was that one that she would always love the most.

That one person who will always, no matter what, own her heart.

“Taylor?” Her mother called again.

Seconds later, she heard a knock on her door that interrupted her train of thought.

“Come in,” Taylor said faintly.

She heard her door creak open, and then footsteps on the carpet. Then she felt the right side of her bed sink when her mother sat down.

Taylor avoided her mother’s watchful gaze by starting intently at the ceiling.

“Are you okay, darling?” She began stroking Taylor’s hair slowly and gently, like she always did when Taylor was upset.

“I’m fine,” she lied. Truth be told, she was on the verge of tears and she didn’t even know why.

“Tell me,” her mother said.

Eyes fixed intently on the ceiling and trying her hardest not to cry, Taylor murmured, “I just want to be alone.”

“Okay, Taylor. Dinner will be ready in an hour.” Taylor’s mother kissed her daughter on her forehead and left.

What has gotten into me? she thought.

Maybe I need a break. A vacation. Yes, that would be nice. I’ll go somewhere nice and quiet and peaceful. And I won’t tell anyone about it, not even mom. I’ll wear a wig and glasses and a wide-brimmed sun hat so no one would recognize me. I’ll have the time of my –

Her cell phone was ringing and vibrating wildly on her bedside table, another interruption to her thoughts. Irritated, she sat up with the full intention of ignoring the call, but when she saw who was calling, she stopped dead.

It was an unregistered number, but she could recognize it any day.

With shaking hands she answered the call.

“Joe?” she said, subtly mixed with a tinge of bewilderment, anger and bitterness.

To her surprise, a girl’s voice answered the phone. “This isn’t Joe. It’s Ashley.”

“Ashley,” Taylor muttered. Joe’s girlfriend.

“Look I know things are weird between Joe and you and undoubtedly you and me too, but I need your help. Actually, Taylor needs your help.”