Anywhere But Here

Chapter Three, Dawn's POV,

I can't believe my dad lost all his money. My mother and father took us to these crappy apartments because of that fact, rent was low, but there were only two bedrooms in our apartment, not three. I had to share a tiny bedroom with my younger brother, Noah, and it wouldn't be that bad if he didn't kick in his sleep. The overall size of our apartment is small, everything was small in these crappy apartments. I would have to put all of my percussion instruments in the living room so they would fit. I saw all of my apartment when we came here a week or two ago to check it out, now my mom and dad were moving us in. An idea sparked in my brain, maybe I could play my Xylophone outside and play for the people walking to the strip mall, maybe I could earn more money. They told me to go ahead even though they didn't need it. I knew that they did need it, our mother's job working at the pizzeria at the strip mall didn't pay much. My dad was getting a job there too, he wanted to keep on making money for us. So while my parents took all of our stuff to our apartment on the first floor, I took my xylophone outside along with my mallets. Music for me, was a way to escape. My parents had no idea that depression was crippling my insides, so I played music to make the pain go away. I started to play my favorite song on it, it was one I made for the xylophone myself. It consisted of high notes being played at the same time as their counterparts to make a cool and interesting rhythm. I was playing that same rhythm today at school when that girl named Zyra was watching me play. I didn't want to be caught because if I was, they would definitely send me to detention. When Zyra had her panic attack I only knew what to do because my little brother has Anxiety as well. She thought my music sounded beautiful, but I had no idea you could hear it from outside of the classroom. It was weird we lived in the same crappy apartment complex too. I started to play the rhythm on my xylophone. I got so engrossed in it I didn't realize a homeless man putting a can with three quarters in it down on the highest note of my xylophone. As people made their way past me they would always stop and look at me play. Some people would even put coins and dollars in the can on my xylophone. I just kept playing because whenever I thought about actually living in that dump of an apartment, my heart broke. I wish my dad never lost all of his money in the stocks. If he didn't I wouldn't have to be here playing xylophone for random people on the street. Any apartment would be better than this one. I wish I was anywhere but here.