When I'm Gone

Her personality is classic rock. She wears band t-shirts underneath the crisp white blouse of her school uniform. Even if no one else can see them, at least she can know that she is unique, a wannabe rebel, not meant to fit in with the other seniors.

Her boyfriend has long hair, more goth than rock, though she didn't find that out until it was too late. They looked good together, they had a good time together, and he was better than the alternatives. 

She takes him to antique stores on weekends. They must look a sight walking through the dusty rooms: so much hair, so much black fabric. She paws through bins of records while he watches.

When she's in her room alone, she puts an album on her suitcase record player, lies on her bed with her eyes closed, and listens to one side of the record before flipping and listening to the other. It's the only way to appreciate the music the way it was meant to be, with all of the fizzes and pops. 

She wants to be in the room where the magic happens. She wants to help pick a single. She wants to learn how to record the music so everyone can enjoy it. She tours schools where they will teach her what buttons to press and what levels to change to make everything sound right. But technology is changing and bands are recording on their own equipment, even phones, anything to sidestep the record industry stealing their profits.

After each tour, she picks a record to put on. One that captures the feel of the studio she visited or the older students who gave the school tour. She closes her door, her eyes, and wishes herself away.

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