Sam TaylorMature

I stepped into Room 22. It wasn't much, but was way better than what I was leaving behind. I had gotten a scholarship into the Spotlight art performance school, which I would never have been able to afford otherwise. I should've been elated, but I wasn't even happy.

I placed the case which held my electric guitar on the bed. I had made the guitar from pieces and scraps I had picked up from the junk-pile of various music stores. It sounded better than any other guitar on the market to me.

I had stumbled upon the Spotlight Scholarship Talent Show and entered it, winning the first prize. This was probably the boost I needed to get a better life. The first sixteen years of my life had been quite pathetic. There was one consolation. It could only get better now. I lay down on my bed to get some sleep. I was exhausted.

A knock on the door startled me. I sighed and got up to open it.

The End

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