I'm Not The Same Boy You Knew Back Then

Alex groaned in frustration, fingers clumsily pressing against frets on his new guitar. Mark had taught him some basic chords like D and E, but he was still struggling.

He heard footsteps in the corridor outside, and jumped into what Mark could only describe as Alex's 'action stations' mode. He slammed the guitar against the wall quickly, sprung up from the chair and pretended to be staring out of the window. He didn't want anyone else coming in and seeing him play the guitar, in case they tried to take it off him and keep it or sell it. Alex would never forgive himself if he let that happen.

Once he was sure the footsteps had retreated, he picked up the guitar once more in his dirty hands and sat down leant up the wall of the office, trying to play the chords properly.

Music reminded him of his early childhood. He only had a few memories left from before his parents' death, and he held them close to his heart. One of which was a family picnic in the park. It was a beautiful summer's day, when Alex was six. The fountain in the park was glistening as it shot jets of water into the air, some children even playing in the stone basin it fell into. Alex was sat on the red and white checkered blanket, playing with a small teddy named Charles. It had placed it into his cot shortly after he was born, by his grandma, who sadly passed away when he was 2.

Alex's mother, Isobel, was sat next to Alex, taking items of food out of the picnic hamper. At that moment, Alex had lifted his head up from his toy to the melodic sound of a guitar. Peter, Alex's father, was stood playing his sticker covered guitar, swaying slightly as he strummed. Alex stared at him in awe, the beautiful tune filling his ears and seeping into his brain.

That day was only 3 moths before they died, and Alex tried to make sure he never forgot them.

He repeatedly strummed the strings, the sound slowly improving, until the perfect D chord rung out through the room. Alex never knew a smile could be so big it hurt his face.

~*~

Alex was sat at one of the three large dining tables, bowl of chicken soup and juice carton in front of him. He raised the spoon to his mouth, blew on the liquid, and ate it, closely watching everyone else in the room. The people here were homeless and desperate, so stealing extra food from others was a regular occurrence.

But that's when his eyes landed on Mark standing next to a small boy whom he guessed was the same age as him. He had shaggy black hair, worn out red converse, and a big nose. He was quite tall too, but his arms looked too thin and his legs were quivering. But that didn't matter to Alex. The boy looked weak and feeble, and more to the point famished. Thats when Mark spotted Alex at the table, grinned, and led the boy over to him.

"Alex, this is… well I don't know, actually. He wandered in a few hours ago. I've been trying to talk to him in my office, but he won't say a word. However, I think he's the same age as you. So, d'you reckon you can make friends?"

Alex smiled softly and nodded. Mark let out a sigh of relief and rushed off.

"Hi! My name's Alexander William Gaskarth, but you can call me Alex. What's your name? Why are you here? Do you like dogs, 'cause I do."

The boy stared at Alex with wide eyes, not sure of what to say.

"You can sit down if you like. I don't bite, I promise!"

He sat down on the very edge of the bench. Alex scooted along so he was right next to him, to which the boy didn't look all too pleased.

"Do you want to be my friend?" Alex whispered.

The boy only nodded.

"Awesome! I'll look after you. Friends stick together-"

"Like glue."