Sweetened afterthought

1 • Sadness

• Briar Mendoza •

The most calming aspects of playing the violin, was its beautiful ability in making everything else seem insignificant. Turning the world around you into something less dull, more inviting.

It helped to blur all the lines of ones disdain and replaces it with the meticulous workings of your strings and bow. She hums in such a way that she exhibits her sounds into vibrant rays of symphonic paintings and colours

I knew of nothing else to bring me so much comfort as did my wondrous wooden instrument. I resorted to using her as a replacement to patch my gaping need for something to feel. Something besides sadness, or even betrayal.

"Briar?" a low hushed voice piped, seemingly from the dark crack of my door. My hands instinctively lessened their moments, quieting my melody.

"La cena está lista," the voice resumed, stalking closer into my shallow abandon.
(Dinner is ready)

I sighed, resting my violin back in her home and back on the highs of my shelf.

"Aun no tengo hambre Adella,"
(i'm not hungry yet Adella)

Yet when I turned to face her, the quick study of her face and light scowl that tinted it contradicted my wishes.

"Tu padre quiere verte, mencionó su importancia,"
(Your father wants to see you, he mentioned its importance)

My eyes instantly gleamed with a hopeful glaze, almost in shock. I hadn't properly spoken to my father in weeks, all in the name of his brewing business, and plans for the future. He made it clear that I shouldn't pester or prod, and this period of stress shall pass, if his plans aren't to fall through of course. And it made me wonder, was it all worth it?

Was whatever my father had spent doing, locking himself away, whilst regarding me with an unfamiliar coldness, proved worth it? I looked to Adella, some questions swarming, yet I allowed my brain to quiet down, to think less. It's easier that way.

"Estaré allí en un momento," I breathed, offering her a warming smile whilst ushering her out of the room of my composition, she regarded me with a nod and quickly paced down the hall. Disappearing in it's vastness.
(I'll be there in a moment)

Adella, for what I knew of her , was a trustworthy soul, purely living under my fathers roof to feed her infant son, who, from time to time I watched and cared for. He is beautiful and full of light. And it made sense to me why Adella persevered through everything that my family put her through.

"Briar,"

I instantly rolled my eyes at the familiar voice, turning to the mocking fool. He seemed to be just arriving home, fresh out the shower, probably having scrubbed of the muck of being an addict.

"Blake," I responded sourly, stepping closer to the city's juvenile, "Tell me, is the room spinning Blake?" I snarled, tipping me head up to peer into the raw red of his eyes.

"Vete a la mierda!" he groaned, before shoving me out of his path and continuing to his room.
(Fuck of)

"Sería más cuidadosa si yo fuera tú," I hummed, skipping after him as he continued to flip me of and curse under his breath.
(I'd be more careful if i were you)

"Maybe just leave me the fuck alone," he growled, spinning to face me and bracing my shoulders. He glared down at me with so much spite it actually hurt.