I play guitar,
I play punk rock, and pop punk.

Sometimes people cause arguments with me. I fight back.

This time someone was insulting my little sister, trying it on my sister. I found him holding her in the back alley. I took my guitar and blam.
No more guitar,

It's four am. I'm passed out in an alley somewhere, covered in blood, is it mine?
I dip a finger in and test.
Yes it's mine. Some of it is anyway.

I feel around and find that there's a stab wound in my side.

Blood slowly oozing from the puncture,
I'm lucky it didn't hit an artery.
I look around.

There's the little **** who hit my sister! Who tried to... Tried to... He isn't moving! ****! There's more blood on him!

I lurch forward towards him, he's dead.
Throat slit by the guitar strings.
I move around.

The neck of the guitar is still embedded in my side. Stemming the flow of blood.
I stand I look for my little sister,


I don't see her! Where is she!?

I start running, everything goes red.
I round a corner. There's my sister.

She's fine.... She's fine... Thank God

In the running the guitar neck fell from my side,
Blood pours from the wound. There's an ambulance.

"I love you sister, don't you ever let them hurt you"