It was 9 o’clock, and yet again the dimming July sky was dripping large raindrops on his head. One landed on his nose and he swiftly rubbed the sleeve of his hoody across his face to remove it. The soft fabric tickled his face as it swept across him; he had had this hoody for a long time. The dark blue colour had faded in the wash over the last 3 years, but he still wore it. He had so many memories with this jumper; it had been with him through a lot.

He shivered slightly as he walked down the dirty street; chewing gum covered the floors as empty crisp packets and sweet wrappers flapped around his ankles. He walked up to the doors of The Vault and fumbled around in his pocket for some change. He scraped together £10 and paid on te door for a ticket to see whatever band was about to come on stage. He didn’t really care who it was, he just loved the atmosphere of being at a live show. As frequently as he could, he would come down to The Vault, but on his Tesco wages this was a bit of a struggle.

He fought his way over to the bar and got a drink just as the band came onto the stage. They were a local band of teenagers playing some hard-core music, this wasn’t really his thing but the atmosphere was good and that was all that mattered. He sat there soaking up the atmosphere for a while, and got involved when their most well-known song which he gathered was called ‘The Plague’ came on.

These guys were alright, but he had grown tired now. It was now half past 10; he figured it was time to leave. He drained his glass and put it down on the bar. He stood up, adjusted his faded blue hoody and walked out of the venue. As he walked down the street, all he could hear was the now heavy rain drops splashing into the ever growing amount of puddles on the floor, but he didn’t mind.

As he turned a corner onto his street, he was suddenly hit by some new lyrics for a song that he had been trying to write. He picked up the pace and jumped the fence into the front garden of his parents’ house, quickly fumbling for the key in his pocket. He slid it into the door and unlocked it, quickly closing and locking it behind him. He kicked off his shoes and ran up to his bedroom to find a piece of paper to scrawl his new lyrics on to.

He found a pen and began to write; “The rain falls around me like the broken hearts//the puddles dry out and all the fighting starts//I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen// the way the world crumbles around me”
And at the end of this piece of paper he scribbled his name, Marc Jones.

Edited by user 12 July 2012 04:55:21(UTC)  | Reason: Not specified

Marc is sitting in his bedroom; the door is closed and old clothes are strewn across the floor. It was a long time since this room was tidy, he didn't really care for cleaning. He sat on his old bed, it had become very hard over its time and had become increasingly more uncomfortable as his body had lengthened and broadened; he pulled his old acoustic guitar across his bed and onto his lap.

As he sat there fiddling with the strings, he became aware of the gentle hooting of an owl in the tree outside his house. It was pretty much the only tree in his entire estate, and it had never shown any signs of life before now. He pushed his guitar off of his lap, getting it caught on his tired old jeans as he laid it gently on the bed. Marc stood up and slowly walked towards the window, looking into the darkening sky and straight into the beautiful fullness of the moon.

After a few minutes of studying the world outside of his messy bedroom he pulled his eyes away from the glistening stars and walked over to the small, cluttered desk. He picked up a guitar pick and underneath was the piece of paper in which he had scribbled a new song onto. He pulled it from under the junk which had been piled above it in only 24 hours and stood there reading through it. He casually meandered back across the maze of a floor towards his bed, and softly sat back upon it, gently bouncing as he reached across for his guitar.

Marc read through the lyrics once more and then started to sing them to himself under his breath while trying to find a strumming pattern that fitted it nicely. After a couple of minutes of fiddling and trialing he found something that seemed to fit his lyrics. He continued playing and eventually found what he thought to be a fitting tune for the song. Standing up now, he took in a deep breath and began to play through the song, singing as he goes.