I wasn't sick. But still it was the third day that I had called my work telling them that I wouldn't be able to make it in. Instead of getting up at 6:30 every morning, I had been sleeping in till 10, making an excuse as to why I should lie there for another hour. Ever since I had opened that cardboard box of Noah's music clippings I had been in a rut. It was the only thing I could think about and yet I couldn't bring myself to listen to any of the other songs he had recorded.

My eyes trailed over the large crack on the ceiling above my bed. The off white color that the owner of the building had painted over it right before I had moved in had already begun to chip away. Cars could be heard outside on the street as I continued my dazed staring contest. A sigh left my lips as my head lulled to the right and I cringed as the cardboard box came into view. I didn't know why I was so uneasy about listening to the cd's. Hearing his voice just that one time after two years had been hard enough.

It was then that I rolled over and reached out for the notebook that lay next to me on the bed. I ran my hand over to surface before I took it in my hands, opened it up and continued where I had left off the night before.

"Well I'm tryin' to get home,
But it feels like another life..."

My lips mouthed along with the lyrics written on the page in my ex boyfriend's hand writing. I pressed my fingertips to the page as I hummed along to the melody I could picture going with the lyrics.

"Yeah I'm tryin' to stay strong,
But sometimes I realize,
That the further I go, the more that I know,
That I want to go home..."

My gaze moved back up to the ceiling as I let the lyric book rest against my chest. The words to Noah's song replayed over and over again and even with the sad thoughts in my head, I couldn't help the tiny smile that appeared on my face. It was then that I closed the book and sat up in bed.

The floor was cold as my bare feet touched the wood. I crept slowly toward the closet in my apartment, hesitating slightly as I reached out for the handle. I bent down in the now open doorway, pulling out shoes and miscellaneous knickknacks that I had stored away inside. I reached further back into the abyss of the tiny closet as my hands finally came into contact with the rough canvas material of the guitar case I had been searching for.  

A heavy breath escaped my lungs as I sat back, staring at the case. My face contorted into a painful masterpiece of emotions as I thought back to the day that Noah had so casually given me his guitar. At the time, I had been honored to even hold it, much less have his permission to use it. Tears welled up in my eyes as I tried to shake away the feeling that I should have realized back then with that action alone there was something wrong.

I wiped under my eyes, catching the tears that still hadn't fallen before I swallowed back the uneasy feeling and placed the guitar case on the ground in front of me. I rubbed my hands together in anticipation as I pinched the zipper between my fingers and pulled.

. . . . .

"Well I'm packing my bags,
Another day and another time.
What a fool I am, can't seem to settle down..."

I had done it. After three days I had finally built up enough courage to listen to another one of Noah's songs. The same song I had read the lyrics to after waking up that morning. The Noah I knew had always talked and acted so independent from his family, and how he wanted to carve his own path. But this song said something totally different. The lyrics sound homesick and his voice as he sung the words was almost hopeful, like he wanted his family's approval over everything else. It just raised more questions in my mind about my late boyfriend.

My fingers moved across the fretboard, pressing down against the thick strings as I nodded along to the demo recording that played through the speakers. My forehead creased in concentration as I played over the tune once again, trying to memorize the chord changes as best I could. I may not have played in a long time, but I sure as hell would never forget how to do it.

If there was one thing that I prided myself on it was my tenacity. I refused to give up when I started something and learning this song was the only thing I planned on doing. And even though it was written by Noah, it still somehow put me in a good mood. Like I was learning something about him that I hadn't known before. There was a strange exhilaration that ran through me the more I practiced the tune.

. . . . .

People of all ages passed by me as I stood on the sidewalk outside of the Trill and Turn on a Friday night. My eyes followed after a group of youths who looked like they had just turned 21 and were all too excited to get into the bar and start drinking. Loud music from the band inside hit me at full force as the door opened, but filtered out to a muffled reverb as it closed again.

I don't know why I was there, why I had decided to do this, but something deep inside compelled me. I took a deep breath as I adjusted the guitar case strap on my shoulder before I made my way inside the crowded bar. My eyes traveled around the large space, seeing that there weren't as many people in here as I first thought, maybe 20 tops. Everyone looked so happy and in their own little worlds of drunken bliss.

"You here to play?"

I hadn't realized I had just been standing by the door until an older man broke me from my obvious staring. I fiddled with the case strapped to my back and nodded slightly in response.

He smiled, his graying beard lifting as he did so before he turned and pointed toward the end of the bar. "Sign up sheet is right over there."

"Thanks," I muttered.

I moved hesitantly toward the bar, a smile formed on my lips as I saw Jeff serving drinks to a girl who looked like she had already had one too many. I wiggled my fingers in the air as I caught his eye and he nodded in response, preparing the drink he knew I wanted. I took a seat at the corner of the bar, trying to stay unnoticed as I grabbed at the clipboard not too far away with the open mic sign up sheet on it.

"Didn't know you knew how to play," Jeff spoke as he set a full pint of beer down in front of me.

"Mhmm," I responded with a nod, glancing away nonchalantly as I took a sip of the beer. "Keep these coming, would you?"

He gave a suspicious look before he nodded and moved onto the next costumer.  I sighed deeply and sat back on my stool. My heart had been racing since I stepped in here and yet I still didn't make a move to leave. I really shouldn't have been doing this.

My body wavered back and forth ever so slightly as I tried to sit up straight in my chair. I had been here for at least an hour and a half now and still every time I was called up to perform I told them to push it back, thinking another drink might serve me well. And it had as my name was called once again and I stood from my stool without a second thought. I unzipped the guitar case and moved to the front of the room, the makeshift stage seeming further and further away.

"You ready to go?" The older man from earlier, whose name I learned was Marcus, patted my back reassuringly.

"Sure thing." I smiled hazily and moved passed him and stepped onto the stage.

The beer and few shots I had taken made my mind go blank. It was exactly what I had been hoping for as I took a seat on the tiny stool behind the microphone already set up. My eyes scanned the room; most of the people who had been here at the start of the night had left to sleep off their buzzes, while the last few stragglers sat around the room chatting with their respective others.

The comfortable hum of the voices kept me calm as I pressed my fingers against the strings. My lips hovered centimeters away from the microphone before they parted slightly in preparation to sing. I plucked the strings, the sound coming out light and airy as if I was still unsure about playing the song.

"Well I'm tryin' to get home,
But it feels like another life,
Yeah I'm tryin' to stay strong,
But sometimes I realize..."

I sang out the words I had memorized only just the day before, letting my eyes flutter closed for a brief second as a wave of happiness washed over me. I didn't feel like I was playing in front of a crowd of people. I didn't feel like I was playing a song written by someone who had killed six people. I felt like I was in my own little world, learning something new about a boy who had a passion for music making.

The sound from the guitar faded out, the sounds of people's voice yet again filling the space around me. No one had really heard the song, but that was okay with me. I smiled sadly to myself and glanced down at the floor as I stepped off the stage. It was still an odd experience to share those lyrics with people that didn't know Noah on a personal level, but I wanted people to hear them. I wanted people to enjoy the music even if I did keep to myself who wrote the songs.

I weaved my way around a few people as I headed toward the bar, Jeff grinning and handing me a celebratory shot just as I did. I didn't even bother taking a seat as I tilted my head back, letting the liquid easily slide down my throat.

"Well, Jeffery," I shook my dazed head and slapped my hand against the table as I spoke. "I'm outta here."

"You played well, kid."

I snorted back a laugh and shrugged. "I appreciate that."

It took only a few moments to find myself standing on the sidewalk outside of the bar. The air was cool, but it felt good against my flushed skin and I took a deep breath, finally letting my shoulders relax. I took one wobbly step in the direction of my apartment when the sound of the door opening behind me caught my attention.

"Umm, excuse me?" A gruff, yet anxious, voice spoke up from behind me.

I raised an eyebrow as I turned to see the bleach blonde boy I had made awkward eye contact with the week before. "Hi?"

"I just-" It was then I realized the gruffness of his voice had turned to slight embarrassment and a drunken smirk formed on my lips as he continued to stutter out his words. "I just wanted to say that, that song you played-"

His eyes were wide as he flailed his arms around in a nervous habit kind of way. "Like wow - it was amazing! Amazing! I could tell no one in there really got what you were trying to say, but I was seriously feeling it. Did you write that?"

I pursed my lips as I took a step away from the very tall boy. It wasn't that I was scared of him, in actuality it looked like he wouldn't even be able to hurt a fly. It was just the fact that I really didn't want to bring up the fact of who had actually written the song. I had to be cautious.

"I've got to get home." I jutted my thumb back over my shoulder.

"You're drunk," His pale green eyes watched my every move as he noted the obvious.

"Great observation." I chuckled lightly as I turned away and begun to walk down the sidewalk.

"Hey!" I heard rushed footsteps behind me and once again I came face to face with the blonde. "For as small as you are you are extremely intimidating and I just came out here to ask if there were any more songs like the one you just played."

I shrugged, glancing away for a second, but I could see an excited smile start to form on his face the longer I stayed silent. "I'm taking that as a yes."

"I didn't say that." I pushed by him, not liking the conversation topic in the slightest.

My feet faltered as my shoe skidded against the ground, a hand reaching out and grabbing my arm to steady me before I fell. I frowned and looked up at the boy who couldn't seem to leave me alone, pulling away.

"Let me give you a ride home," He suggested. "You shouldn't be walking around alone at this hour."

"I'd prefer not to be murdered tonight, but thanks for the offer." I shifted on my feet before I glanced around the deserted street.

He sighed loudly and ran a hand through his hair. "Well I hadn't actually planned on killing someone tonight, but I could move a few things around to do so if you keep up the snarky attitude. I'm trying to be thoughtful."

I forced back the smile that had involuntarily formed on my face as he didn't even bother hiding the grin he wore. It was nice to finally meet someone who could keep up with my sarcasm so well. It took a second for me to make up my mind about the overly talkative boy, but before I knew it I was letting him open the passenger side door of his car for me.

"I'm Michael Clifford, by the way," He spoke as he took his seat next to me on the driver's side, sticking the key into the ignition.

I sighed over dramatically as I turned and looked out the window. "Kennedy."

It was quiet for only a moment before Michael opened his mouth again. "So about that song. It was so good! Like I haven't heard something so well written in such a long time. Have you ever considered-"

"Michael." His mouth clamped shut as I interrupted him. "Stop talking. You're giving me a headache."

"S-sorry!" His voice raised an octave and I could see his hands tighten around the stirring wheel in my peripheral vision. "It's just I kind of talk a lot when I'm nervous and you make me really nervous because you obviously have got some talent."

"Michael!" I spoke up, giving him the most serious look I could muster in my hazy state.

The car fell silent and I let out a relieved sigh. I scrunched my nose as Michael fiddled with the radio anxiously. I leaned further back into my seat, the only words coming out of my mouth for the duration of the car ride were the directions to my apartment.

"Thanks for the ride, kind stranger," I said as I shut the door and leaned down against the open window.

"Sure." Michael averted his gaze as he fidgeted in his seat. I knew he wanted to say something else about the song I had preformed and I could tell how hard it was for him to keep his mouth closed. But even so, I could tell his intentions were good.

"Goodnight, Michael," I said after a long silence.

With that I turned on my heels and pulled my keys out of my pocket as I headed up the front steps of my building. I shook my head in anticipation, starting to count out the seconds that passed in my head before he'd speak again.

"Okay! Hold on a minute." The sound of a car door as it opened and closed had me turning to look back at Michael.

He stood out in front of his car, hesitantly taking a step toward me. "Are you seriously telling me there are no other songs?"

Michael now stood on the sidewalk in front of my building. "Because you don't just write one song like that. Those lyrics come from experience. Someone who writes like that wants people to hear what they have say, which means there has to be more. I just thought we could maybe get together and jam-"

"Goodnight, Michael," I repeated myself. If only he knew how true his words were.

"Just like wiggle your eyebrows or give me a thumbs up - some type of sign that there are more songs and I will leave you alone." He persisted, ignoring me completely.

Instead of doing either of those, I raised my hand, flipping up my middle finger at him. "Goodbye, Michael."

He put his hands up in a defensive manner, backing away with a grin on his face. He pointed at me happily as he opened his car door again. "I'm totally taking that as the sign!"

With that he got into his car and drove away. I stood there on the front steps for a moment, watching as the break lights of his car lit up before it turned left and disappeared out of sight. I shook my head in disbelief at the random encounter as I fumbled to get my key into the lock on the door.

For once I ended my night not thinking of Noah, but instead the odd, persistent stranger who didn't know when to stop talking.