Skylar Pruett The Harp Analysis

The Harp by Skylar Pruett

The world slowly awakens around me, my cluttered bedroom becoming reality once again. I move my head slightly to see the sun barely peaking over the trees of the surrounding forests. "Oh gosh, I'm going to be late" I say scrambling around my room, grabbing my thin jacket, broken glasses, and finally my small, leather, journal with the small, metal ink pen. The whole town is against me not wanting me to become a knight. I don't understand why people legitimately hate my soul because of it. I want to become an artist, not someone who goes around killing people. I slip out of the front door of my families home, careful not to wake my parents, brother and sister. My parents are some of the most unsupportive people, yet they love my brother, Callum. He wants to be head guard, protecting the king and queen of the realm. My little sister, Rose, is the only supportive one of my opinion. Even though she is only ten and I am fourteen, she knew the difference in what was right and what the town did. I always make her flower crowns from the meadows near the forest or give her my drawings of the sky. My brother has other plans since he so much taller than me he shoves me around, steals my glasses and journal, and gets all of his meathead friends to push
"Watch where you're going kid" some old man yelled after me. My almost black, dark brown hair flopping in my equally as dark brown eyes. I run to the middle of the meadow grabbing out my pen and journal and started to quickly sketch the sky before it was too late. I begin to scribble down the different clouds and colors in the dawn sky. I felt like my body was being controlled by the artists before me. The ink pen danced upon the paper like a million butterflies and mockingbirds. When my imagination faded away and the sun started rise higher in the sky I closed my journal and began the long walk back