The Soundtrack of her life

The Soundtrack of Her Life

Everyone has a past, and every life has a story. Too often people will flip through the pages and never read the book.  A life without a story is like a song without words.


“It is extraordinary how music can send one back to the memories of the past”
“George Sand”


I once knew a girl…. She grew up in the mountains of Montana. She lived with her Father, Mother, Brother, and her two sisters. Her mother was a homemaker, an amazing woman. She taught her children culture, and how to be good people. Her father was a strong man, a very Manley man. He could fix anything, or build anything. He raised his children with strong morals, and how to be strong people. He taught them all to hunt and fish, and how to survive in the wild with only a sleeping bag. He was brilliant; he seemed to her to know everything about life. She loved her Family, and adored her father. Her life was great, but one day without any warning her mother and father split up. Her Mother started college, and her father moved away to Germany with her baby brother.


“You left without saying goodbye
Although I'm sure you tried
You call the house from time to time
To make sure we're alive
But you weren't there
Right when I needed you the most
And now I dream about it
And how it's so bad, it's so bad”
“Nickelback”


In the ninth grade she felt her life start to change. She had an English teacher by the name of Mrs. Castle who closely resembled the green witch from the Wizard of Oz.  Mrs. Castle spent most of the class period quizzing this girl. She would get great pleasure embarrassing her in front of the class ever time she got an answer wrong. This girl dreaded going to English class; her stomach hurt every time eleven O’ clock rolled around, because that meant she was about to see Mrs. Castle . But just when she thought it could not get any worse in that class it did. One day, Mrs. Castle told her to read a story that she wrote about her father in front of the whole class. The story was very personal, and there was no way she wanted to share it out loud. She stood in front of the class trembling like she was ice cold. Her voice was shaky, and it sounded like she was on the verge of crying. Nothing she said was could be understood. You would have thought the teacher would have let her sit down, but she didn’t. She kept making her start over until every word she read could be heard. She stood there for what seemed like forever with tears rolling down her face.

“I count the falling tears
they fall before my eyes”
“I’m not your fool
Nobody’s fool”
“Cinderella”

The next day, she decided to skip class, and hid out in the woods across the street from the school.  She spent the day writing stories, and listening to her head phones. She was very happy alone, and enjoyed it more than going to class. so she kept going back; everyday for weeks she went to her spot in the woods, and no one knew about it.

“The spirit of the woods is like an old good friend
It makes me feel warm and good inside
I knew his name and it was good to see him again
'Cuz in the wind he's still alive “
‘Ted Nugent”

Eventually, she was caught, and sent back to school, but she was put in the classes for problem children. She spent her days in a room the size of a janitor’s closet with eight other students. At lunch they walked down the halls like a chain gang. They all sat together secluded from the rest of the school, but easily seen by everyone. She was nothing like the other kids in her class. They really were problem children, and they were very proud of the reputations they had created for themselves.  She figured if she was going to have to live with a stereo type, she might as well live up it.  So, late one night she wrote her mother a very long letter.


“I hope you know, I hope you know
That this has nothing to do with you
It's personal, myself and I
We've got some straightening out to do
And I'm gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket
But I've got to get a move on with my life
It's time to be a big girl now
And big girls don't cry
Don't cry”
“Fergi”

The next morning, she took the bus to school, but instead of walking inside of the school she walked in the snow to a truck stop at the edge of town. She walked straight to the restroom and looked at herself in the mirror. She reached in her bag, took out her scissors, and cut her long brown hair, and then made her way to the highway and in no time at all she was crossing the Montana state border.

“No one heard a single word you said.
They should have seen it in your eyes
what was going around your head.

She’s a little runaway.
Daddy's girl learned fast

she's a little runaway.”
“Bon Jovi”

She was always able to catch ride with different people; always in a different city. She learned fast how to steal.  She slept in truck stops, and occasionally in communities where there were other teenage runaways, but most of those children were doing drugs, and living a lifestyle so different from what she was searching for. Eventually, she caught up with a truck driver by the name of Charles. He was a loner. He had no home and lived his life on the road, and was happy to have the company of a teenage girl. She spent most of her time listening to headphones and writing stories in the back cab. She wrote about Charles and the life he lived, and wrote about the people she had met on her journey. Every few weeks she would send a letter to her mother just to let her know she was still alive. As much as she missed her family, she enjoyed her life on the run, but soon that changed; when one night at 3am Charles pulled over on a dark back road. The time he was spending with a young female had finally got to him, and she was aware that one day it would. He climbed in the back cab where she was sleeping and forcefully grabbed her, and attempted to have his way with her. She fought him with everything she had for a long time. She knew if she did not keep fighting that he was going to kill her, and just when she was about to give up, she screamed and fought with the power of a grown man. She beat the hell out of him until he could not move, and she did not stop, she kept screaming, and she kept fighting.


“You run and you run and you runaway
But you can not run away from yourself”
“Bob Marley”


She had gotten in way over her head, and her life was no longer the same. She wanted to go home but she had no choice but to continue to run.  She had no plan and no idea what to do with herself she went place to place and never stayed anywhere long.  She had to continue to fight for her life in order to survive, because she had become prey in a world full of hunters.


“You see her confidence is tragic, but her intuition magic”

“Well she wants to live her life
then she thinks about her life
Pulls her hair back as she screams
I don't really wanna live this life”
“Train”

Her childish look had become hardened, her eyes had no depth, her voice had no laughter, and she had ran out of “fight”.  She stopped writing her mother, because she was ashamed of whom she had become.  She no longer wrote stories, because there were no stories left in what she saw.  She became a dancer, [a stripper] and music was the only way she was able to “feel”.


“Used to look so nice how'd you get so thin?
With a heart of ice it's a heart of sin
Skin white like a ghost with a pale complexion”

“That’s the price you pay for running away from the stress
Feeling the pain she likes to dance by the DJ
Reminds her of a time when things were ok
frightened by her own shadow
now she wants to go home”
“Matisyahu”

She was found half alive and pregnant. Luckily, Her Mother never stopped looking for her.


“Send out the captain
My gem is held captive in the dungeon
Don't come back again until you end the mission
If it takes a long time
Don’t lose the vision
If you're stuck
Check the blueprint
Look within
Reflection
Got to find the rhythm
Won't you please return child
Where  have you been?”
“Matisyahu”



I know a woman with long brown hair who lives in the woods of Virginia. She is a mother, an amazing Mother. She teaches her children culture and how to be good people; she raises them with good morals and how to be strong when life may seem hard. She has learned things about life that could never have been taught in a class room.  Late at night, when her children are sleeping she will write about everything she sees, and read the stories of her past, and when no one is looking she will close her eyes……. and dance to the soundtrack of her life.



“I believe there comes a time when everything
Just falls in line. We live and learn from our mistakes.
The deepest cuts are here by fate”
“Pat Benatar”

“Music expresses that which can not be said and on which can not remain silent”
“Victor Hugo”