Billy rested in the m quietude, resembling a log. He had mao fall asleep amidst thoughts and ings and goings, apanied by the gentle snores of his polite roommate who had seemingly agreed to share the room with young Billy. His sed day at the hospital officially began at 6 in the m. He slept peacefully until 7 a.m., awakening to the hospital's revitalization.

  Joseph was already reading the neer, with his gold-framed gsses and drooping cheeks, muttering about the weather, gleaned from the neer he read every m to have something to talk about throughout the day.

  Billy went to his bag, finding enough paper and pencils to jot down the song he was about to write. Not finding any bk, he ended up writing it in blue ink. Fortunately, his handwriting remaihe same, perfectly legible. He was grateful for this because his tration and patience had been stolen. He calmly penned down the lyrics that lingered in his mind.

  Hospital days passed like swift moments, devoid of television and g the usual activities. Billy tio write and attempted to draw, though he couldn't quite capture the corre in his sketches. Frustration surged through his neural system as he failed at something he once loved so much—drawing. What do you do whehing you once had slips into oblivion? Without dwelling on it further, he decided to tinue writing a song on his own, ohat would inspire him to release all the rese in his heart—a creatioirely his own.

  Manner of existence[1]

  I awoke in a bed of grass, With my senses clouded, Around me, only i shadows, They were people.

  assed through my mind,

  perhaps it was a dream,

  My head pyed a trie,

  I was living a life,

  A life that wasn't mine.

  I pushed my bad vibes to the shore,

  May the cold water wash away my sin,

  May the cold water se my pain,

  May the cold water clear my fusion.

  There, in a dark square,

  The shapes of my life oscilted

  Like an infinite camera,

  I watched the video of my life, and I dreamed of a new life.

  What do you do if tomorrow your life ges? Well,

  distance yourself from the cobwebs,

  I pushed my bad vibes to the shore,

  May the cold water wash away my sin,

  May the cold water se my pain,

  May the cold water clear my fusion.

  My realization is to move forward,

  As if it were a job,

  Fetting about my eic state,

  I am no lohe person I was yesterday,

  Now I look at faces,

  I say hey to the gang members,

  I dedicate myself to ughing as if it were my birth.

  …

  The blue marker wrote as if it were a poet. Billy wrote three more songs after receiving a fn and some food in pstitainers. After a while, all that remained was to write. Joseph was as silent as ever, and Billy needed a bath, but it was better to wait until they removed the neck brace;, his ned chest were injured, but he felt fine, as his smile demonstrated.

  -Billy, sweetheart. – said his mother from the door, pletely posed at the sight of her little angel writing happily; he looked so cute with that smile.

  -Mom. –

  -Today I brought something delicious to eat. – said Agustina, approag to give a kiss on her little boy's forehead, - I stopped by the mall to buy something, but they didn't have chorizo. I decided to make you grilled meat in sauce, and some asparagus sad. I brought your favorite gummies, but that's after lunch, my beautiful boy. – The mother tihten up the room with her charm; even old Joseph was more lively. Agustina opehe windows, and cleared the curtains; with her divine charm, the mood of everyone in the room went up three notches, and it was iable that Billy couldn't help but sigh with joy.

  -The food sounds fantasti. – said Billy, smelling the fvor of the meat. After the pstic pte, there was a st that captivated Billy's olfactory senses.

  -I like this dish. – said Billy, somewhat hastily to taste the food.

  Agustina, who was very wise for her age, brought a seeal and served it to old Joseph, who blushed like an irate one of the seven dwarfs being attended by Snow White. As he got older, he received fewer details, but he treasured them more.

  -I know you like it. Your mother knows well the food she prepares. I brought Coca-Co; you know, here, fruit isn't good to ferment throughout the day, and it's better to drink the spark of your life. – said Agustina.

  -It's delicious, ma'am. You're a cook at the level of my te wife Bianca. – said old Joseph with unheard-of happiness. Ihan ten minutes, he lost twenty years; he no longer had wrinkled cheeks, and his eyebrows rose like a caricature of itted happiness.

  -I feel fttered.– she responded fidently and tenderly.

  They both ate as if someone was going to take the food away; they cleared the delicious food. She just nodded happily that they liked it. One of the pleasures was seeing the happy faces that her cooking brought.

  -Mother, I have something for you. – said Billy, handihe two songs, oled "Like a Stone" and the other "Manner of Existence."

  -What's this? – asked Agustina.

  -They're songs. you help me register them? The process be done online, but I need 90, and 45 for both. On my desk in a blue envelope, there should be 120; I'll use it tister these songs. My teacher Spencer will help me record a demo of the song, and we'll present them to some California record pahe teacher says I have a talent for singing. – said Billy.

  -Wow, son, you wrote these songs! Of course, we'll make the corresponding payment. Do we need any specifiat or something? – Agustina asked.

  -No need, it's done o's a simple process fistering inal works. – Billy said, well aware that he had a lot of experieh cht, and a few words from Spencer helped him pull himself together.

  -Have you already registered them? – Agustina asked.

  -I haven't do yet. – Billy said.

  - it be done by mail? – she asked.

  -I , but we o fill out a form and send it to the offi San Diego. – Billy said.

  -Well, that's easier for me. I think we find an i café nearby. – Agustina said, going along with Billy's suggestion.

  -There's an i café two blocks away. You go and print some forms, and tomorrow m, you submit a request. Or you go yourself aer online. Although I don't trust those puters – Joseph said.

  -We'll do it by mail. – Billy said, knowing his limitations, handing the two songs to Agustina, who nodded.

  -But... wouldn't you like to sing to your mother? It's only fair." – Agustina said.

  -I just let me warm up a bit. – Billy said, doing breathing exercises. This song had a certain difficulty in singing due to its wide range and plexity, but he had extensive practice.

  -Here I go. I'll try to give it my all. – Billy said, swallowing. The first stretch was always a bit challenging to sing.

  On a cobweb afternoonIn a room full of emptinessBy a freeway I fessI was lost in the pagesOf a book full of deathReading how we'll die aloneAnd if we're good, we'll y to restAnywhere we want to go

  In your house, I long to beRoom by room, patientlyI'll wait for you thereLike a stoneI'll wait for you thereAlone

  Billy's voice owerful and tio ighat spark, his own, that spark that could only drive people mad with the talent to express emotions in his songs. And although Agustina didn't fully uand the song, it didn't matter because the song scraped at those sensitive emotions like a spatu.

  And on my deathbed I will prayTo the gods and the angelsLike a pagan to anyoneWho will take me to heavenTo a pce I recallI was there so long agoThe sky was bruisedThe wine was bledAnd there you led me on

  In your house, I long to beRoom by room, patientlyI'll wait for you thereLike a stoneI'll wait for you thereAloneAlone

  And on I readUntil the day was goneAnd I sat iOf all the things I've doneFor all that I've blessedAnd all that I've wrongedIn dreams until my deathI will wander on

  In your house, I long to beRoom by room, patientlyI'll wait for you thereLike a stoneI'll wait for you thereAloneAlone[2]

  …

  Silence again filled the room, and Joseph, the oldest, i years of his life, felt as if he were 25 again, listening to Elvis Presley live—a song so seal that it struck a chord in his being.

  -You've got a gift, young ma me pay you the cht fees. Let them say that I, Joseph f, am the sponsor of the Elvis Presley, - Joseph said, pulling out his wallet, a hundred-dolr bill, and a gesture nation to the song he had just heard, which illuminated his life.

  -Mr. Joseph, you shouldn't bother, - Agustina said, awakened from the dream induced by her son. Seeing his passion for singing gave her the idea that no matter what happened, Billy would always have something of his own, even as a gang member; singing would guide him on the right path.

  -Agustina, you're like a sun illuminating my cloudy m. Your son's talent is something that allowed me to vent, to be part of something that will st a long time, - Joseph said.

  A hat would be engraved in an ending, a finale, spoken by Billy Carson himself when ter asked where the farewell "Joseph" came from. He would tell the story of an old Joseph f who gave him the money fistration with the dition that he would sing to him again.

  -Thank you, Mr. Joseph, - Billy said.

  -You, young man, you must sing to me again - Joseph said.

  ......................

  [1] I wrote it myself; it's a song representing Billy's silen his new life. Now, all he knows how to do is py music. The style is alternative rock, soft, not too loud.

  [2] "Like Stone" by Audiosve, is a song that leaves anyone speechless.

  ...

  I keep receiving your ents that fill me with wisdom to improve my writing, likewise, I've been writing a couple of extra chapters, and I still have to polish them. Have a nice day.