If I Fell (The Beatles/George Harrison Story)

1: Ella Matthews

As I stood by the radio in my mother's living room my ears filled with excitement, rock & roll. I adjusted the knob turning up the volume on the box and began to sway. I had never really been fond of jazz and finally the radio stations had started to put on more new genres. Although many of my friends and classmates wouldn't listen to rock & roll in fear of getting in trouble by their parents, I had permission from my mother. That was one of the things I was most sorry for, how most of my classmates and friends weren't allowed to listen to rock & roll.

Twirling around and moving my feet to the beat of the kick drum I felt as though I was one with the music. There wasn't much room in my living room to dance but in my mind, it was absolutely necessary. Although it was a rainy summer afternoon, the music made me feel like it was a beautiful day. Lost in thought, I continued to glide around the room to the beat. Twirling and twirling and twirling and-

"Ella!" I gasped stopping abruptly. Turning around I suddenly realized my mother was in the doorway of our average Liverpool home. "What on earth are you doing?" 

"Umm, I was just, y'know...Dancing." I spoke in an embarrassed tone.

"I can't believe you! Stop this now! When I ask you to do the dishes I expect you to do them!" She almost looked silly, garden tool in hand. But, I was not going to bring that up to her with the mood she was in.

Visibly shaken, I quickly walked over to the kitchen counter noticing a heaping pile of dishes resting in the sink.

"I'm sorry mother it won't happen again, I promise."

"As it should!" She spoke in a menacing tone. "Next time I catch you listening to that sort of music when you're supposed to be doing work, there will be no more of it!" Rushing away, my mother marched back outside with a irritated expression stained on her face.

I sighed, knowing that tomorrow I might not be able to sneak out to The Cavern with my friends. My mother would be keeping a close eye on me, therefor I would run the risk of being caught.

I was just your average 17 year old girl, I loved reading, writing and the outdoors. But, what nobody knew about me was that I had a passion for music, a real, thriving passion. Some days I would tell my parents that I was heading out with a friend or going for a long walk when I was actually running down to the music store to listen to records or have a look at the new instruments in stock. I had a bunch of songs all planned out in my head and I could hear everything as well. But I had no way to get them out since I didn't know how to play a single note.

Speaking of the music store, I had only been noticed once or twice down in the area of which it was situated. But, I still preferred to go in the late evening, when most people would be finishing up supper. I knew that if I went then I could stay for a rather long time without someone I knew catching me. If anyone knew that I was into music they would make fun of me. I could not have that kind of torment in the position I was already.

There was nothing special about me, I had blonde hair and blue eyes but looking at myself, I realized why I was never stopped on the streets or smiled at when I ran by. My hair was the slightest bit wavy stopping just below my shoulders. Often, I would just put it in a ponytail even though most girls my age in town didn't prefer that style. But, all in all, I was as ordinary as ordinary could be. Many of my thoughts were music related but sometimes I would just sit and ponder on the thought of how I would grow old and lonely, faint and unrecognizable, ugly and disliked.

-Splash!-

I dropped a spoon into the foggy water of the deep sink, retrieving it I looked out through the stained glass window at eye-level noticing a boy about my age. 

"Where have I seen him before?" I quietly asked myself. Staring more and more I began to notice that he was not alone, seeing that to his left were three others. I gazed at the slender boy as if I was making sure he wouldn't fall, for his friends were tormenting him greatly. But no, he didn't fall, instead he noticed me.

That short second of eye contact was all it took, I was hooked. He barely seemed to care but I could tell that I had known him from somewhere. I flashed a smile at him and he began to as well, yet he was interrupted by a boy who looked a few years older messing up his hair. As I watched the scene unfold, I noticed that another one of his friends seemed to care a great deal about his hair and would flinch every time the older boy would ruffle his up. This was quite funny to me, but I dare not laugh for my mind was already occupied. 

"Who is that boy?" I whispered with smile on my face watching them fool around. "And, how do I know him?"