Chapter 2 “Mom! I was only five minutes late!” I protested as we drove to our apartment building. Mom’s lips were pressed into a thin line. “Five minutes late is what got your father killed, Kia” I was furious. I was sick of this. “I can’t change the fact that it did! I wasn’t in a stupid warzone like he was! I wasn’t hanging out with a dumb spy! I DIDN’T MAKE THE STUPID IDIOTIC DECISION HE MADE!!!!!!!!” I couldn’t stop the hateful, resentful words flowing out of my mouth. It was terrible, terrifying. “I’M NOT HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” “ENOUGH!” I had never heard Mom so furious, but sorrowful. I noticed a tear stream down her face. “Zakia, that was the last straw.” Mom went from weeping to full-out sobbing. “I can’t bring him back. I can’t change what he did. Don’t you understand that?” she sobbed. I was shell shocked. I had never seen her like this. Then I realized how brave she had been, pulling my family together when it seemed to have fallen apart. “I’m sorry, I really am.” I said meekly, but Mom was just shaking her head. “No, Kia. That really was the last straw.” and for once, music gave me no comfort. I jolted awake, my mouth open in a silent scream. I had the worst nightmare, the worst of the worst. I shook my head, clearing out my mind. It was just a dream. I sighed. I put on my headphones and listened to my favorite songs. I know songs like Mean and You Belong With Me are old school by now. The popular girls wouldn’t be caught dead listening to them. But this time, I decided to take a different approach. Instead of listening to those cheerful, dorky songs, I went to my playlist, the playlist of songs too sad to listen to on a daily basis. First up was Faded, by Alan Walker. Next was You’re Not Sorry, by Taylor Swift. Next was Concrete Angel, by Martina Mcbride. But then, a song I thought I removed from every playlist began to play. While My Guitar Gently Weeps, by The Beatles. It wasn’t really that sad a song, but me and Dad used to sing it together, me on my guitar, him on the piano. Tears flowed down my face, like the Niagara Falls. I slowly took off my headphones, turned out the lights, and just sat there in the dark, crying. Mom was right. He wasn’t going to magically come back from the dead. I padded over to my guitar case. I haven’t touched it since Dad died. I slowly took it out of the case, slowly turned the tuning pegs, and started to pluck out notes in the dark. The tears had stopped. I was a hollow shell. Suddenly, mom was sitting next to me, her hand on my arm. I realized I was playing While My Guitar Gently Weeps. “I’m sorry for all you’ve been through.” Mom whispered. I smiled and wrapped her in a big hug. “We just need to keep faith in what we have.”
Chapter 1 is in the studio :)
