The Day The Music Died (NEW BOOK!)

Main Character: Scott Russell

Main timeline: 1985

Time To travel back to: 1959

 

 

Introduction:

 

There's a spark, unmatched by anything else.

 between a man and his dream car.

few things in the world are enough to make a man do terrible things.

things he isn't proud of, but nonetheless have to be done.

 

And such few have the honor of evoking such emotion.

to an otherwise Emotionally crippled parent perhaps.

or gym teacher.

 

At the front of our minds, we all see it.

Clear as night.

Driving,

an ethereal carriage of your hopes, and dreams, not caring, and not looking back.

in the black of night, along the highway.

100 miles an hour down the interstate.

 

Battles of right and wrong, all with a captivating twist on music history!

stay tuned!

 

Chapter One

 

He thumbed through the record stack.

mindlessly, and without thought, as he had done 1,000 times before.

His fingers feeling for the blue record jacket with a piece of bright yellow tape, holding the binding together at one end.

He opened the sleeve,

and let the needle drop.

 

the speakers echoing around the room of that place that was now his.

his new life.

a new beginning.

 

He had earned it.

12 years, (plus preschool).

 

"Becoming a person of intellect."

his dad had so often put it.

 

he gazed around the rest of his room.

It wasn't much..

the single mattress without any head or footboards pressed against the corner,

and a milk crate of records he'd had his whole life.

the only thing that really mattered.

 

His speaker system had been his graduation gift from his parents.

 

Bribery.

how clever.

 

He had wanted out longer then he could remember.

His parents were both great people.

 

Well formed members of society.

 

They just didn't "click" together,

and the only way I could describe it to you is like Sid and Nancy.

Fucking vicious.

 

Scott Russell.

5'8"

130 pounds.

thick skinned.

strong hearted,

knobby knees, but a soul of fire.

black curls fell over his shoulders overtop a black KISS shirt.

 

A now filthy jean jacket tossed at the side.

He would have been called a degenerate , if his parents weren't who they were.

Although towing the line didn't come naturally to his "type".

 

he tried to clear his head.

 

That's why he had put the record on in the first place.

 

He was his own person, and damned if he was gonna let his parents get the best of him.

 

he walked over to his bed.

he wasn't tired,

but distant.

 

he lied down, and closed his eyes.

never seeing black when he closed his eyes,

but a wide perception of hues, and clouds.

Bright blue skies, with white clouds.

 

But he only saw this if the record player was on.

 

Turning down the oil lamp beside him,

the lyrics started to come clear.

 

"a love that's love and not fade away."

 

Chapter Two.

Opening his eyes again,

they were scorched with sun shining through his window.

hours had seem to have passed,

but he was certain he hadn't been asleep.

he heard the needle scratching at the end of the record inside his head echoing the past few hours.

 

he blinked a few times, and closed his eyes again.

sweat had started forming at the corners of his forehead.

a few more minutes of uncomfortable sighs and groans,

led to the first day, as he stumbled out of bed.

 

His jacket was still wet.

Great.

 

it had been soaked through for over a week now,

it didn't surprise him.

nature always disagreed with him

and this was no exception.

 

a week before,

he had nearly gotten hit by a car,

walking along the bridge around the corner from his house.

 

he heard the tires veer behind him and he dove over the edge.

Only about 10 feet.

But a cold swim wasn't what he wanted, not to mention having his wallet in his jacket pocket.

And the money he had just received for graduation.

 

Good thing he was only leaving to pick up his pay check..

he looked at his watch

 

it was already 11:30.

He left, for the diner.

His favorite place to eat since he was a kid.

it was a fifties retro diner,

with the old kind of light up jukebox.

and the employees wear that funny sailor's hat.

Bacon and toast, would be the usual.

 

He walked through the doors and inhaled.

Immediately he felt more at ease.

 

Have you ever had the feeling you were living in a parallel?

A  simultaneous timeline coinciding with the one you're in?

one say, 50 years ago, along with the one you're in now.

the same place.

same trees,

same buildings, everything.

but you're experiencing both at the same time?

nevermind then you'd think I was crazy..

 

But that's how Scott felt.

 

until he bit into the bacon.

mmm his mouth started to water.

If you ask any guy he'll tell you how good bacon is.

We'd practically sell you for it.

 

After eating, and without a way to pay for the next rent check,

he went to pick up today's newspaper.

 

June 23rd, 1985

SEPULCHER TRIBUNE

WANT ADS

Looking for a grocer for our produce section.

Local supermarket.

Long haired freaky people,

NEED NOT APPLY!