No one loved music more than me. When I was little, I would spend almost all my free time in my room, spinning around imagining amazing things to the music I loved. I was a Famous woman with millions of fans to sing to. I was A lion freeing myself from the Zoo. I was a trick-or-treater stuck in a haunted house with friends. Music took me and my brain on a joy ride, and I never got tired of it.
I loved every Genre, from Rap to disco to rock (especially rock!) no matter how old or new the song was, if I liked it, I liked it.
When My parents got me headphones for my thirteenth birthday, I was overjoyed. I hugged them and listened to music ‘till twelve o’ clock at night, when they forced me to go to bed. I loved music so much, I began to write songs.
I would write songs and sing them in the shower, to my parents, to my friends, everywhere. Music was my life, and it still is.
But something changed in high school. I got more homework. I had hard school work. Music became a ‘special’ class, not something mandatory and done everyday, like ABC’s in kindergarten. Music always had time for me, but now, I didn’t always have time for music.
Anyway, the real stuff begins in math class one morning, I was tapping my pencil on my homework paper to a song I had just recently finished writing. I sang softly so that only I could hear:
Math ‘aint my path.
Reading’s like a beating.
My thing is singing
Can’t you see what I’m bringing?
“Stella!? Is that you talking to yourself!?” my bestie Joy scared me. She was right behind my desk, bookbag in hand, staring at me.
TO BE CONTINUED
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