Shattered Promises

forty three.

        My fingers pressed down on the strings of my guitar as I strummed with my other hand. It didn't sound right. Maybe I'm doing it wrong, or maybe it's out of tune. Who knows? I used to be really good at playing, but I stopped playing and lost interest and now I'm trying to get back into it. I guess I forgot how to play along the way. 

        Since I was suspensed and didn't have school today, nor the next couple of days, I might as well use my time to relearn guitar. 

        There was a knock at my door and my eyes shifted away from the strings up to my bedroom door, which was being opened. 

        "What's the point of knocking if you're just going to walk in right after?" I spat, as Demi stood at the door.

        "Why aren't you at school?" She asked, completely ignoring what I had just said.

        "Suspended," I said, looking back down at the guitar and gently strumming the strings.

        "What'd you do?" I heard her chuckle.

        "I punched Connor, wasn't my fault though." I told her, not bothering to even give her eye contact.

        "How isn't it your fault? You punched him." She walked deeper into my room.

        "Wouldn't you punch your ex-boyfriend if you had the chance?" 

        The emotion in her face dropped and I knew I mentioned a touchy subject.

        "You could've just ignored him."

        "What do you want?" I said, my patients with her quickly dropping.

        "Breakfast is ready, if you want any." She said quietly.

        I ignored her and went back to playing the instrument. 

        When I could still sense her presence, I adverted my eyes back up at her. 

        "Why are you still in here?" I asked, glaring at my sister.

        "Do you want help with guitar? I can teach you."

        I could use the help, but not with her. Her presence is pissing me off. I'll learn by myself, besides she's probably a horrible teacher.

        "I'm fine, thanks." 

        Her cellphone started ringing and she rushed to grab her phone out of her back pocket, her face dropping when she looked at the screen. I watched as she declined the call, sliding the phone back into her jeans pocket.

        "Who was it?" I asked.

        "Wilmer," She sighed, running her fingers through her hair.

        "You can block numbers, you know that right?" 

        "Yeah," She spoke softly. "I do."

        I nodded, but didn't press forward.

        "Well, if you need any help learning, you know where to find me." She smiled and turned on her heels before exiting my bedroom, closing the door shut behind her.

        I pushed my guitar off my lap onto my bed and grabbed my phone off of my bedside counter. I scrolled through my contacts before I found Wilmer's number. I usually never texted him, only if I absolutely needed to get into contact with him, I don't know why I haven't deleted him yet.

        you're disgusting, did you know that? choke on a dick, asshole.

        I sent him a text and put my phone back down on the dresser.