Sing for Me? // Milya

09

ALYA'S POV

I'm woken up by the harsh sunlight shining through my window onto my face. With a groan, I turn around and sit up, yawning loudly. Time for another day living with my new family. Wow, my new family. I have a mom, dad, sister, and um a brother? I know Miles is technically my brother, but for some reason I hate the idea of Miles only thinking of me of his little sister. Weird right?

We're on winter break, which is good for Bianca because now she has lots of time to prepare for that singing contest I know she's really excited for. She wanted me to do it too, but I can't, it's complicated. Whatever.

After garbling down my bacon and pancakes I resume my previous position upstairs and just play on my phone for a few hours. That is, until I'm harshly interrupted by Miles.

He swings the door open, and it hits the wall with a bang. Although I expected there to be a pissed look on his face, the only one he seems to wear is an excited one.

"Miles?" I question.

"Hey!" He says.

"Oh hey." I say back.

"I have a great idea for today!" He says sounding almost alarmingly excited.

"What?"

"I'm going to help you with your singing contest entry!"

"Not a chance."

He sighs and takes a seat next to me.

"Alya, I know you've had a bad experience with singing, but you need to do this. It's a huge opportunity!" He explains.

"Funny. You sound just like Bianca." I reply.

"Okay so maybe Bianca set me up to help you, but I genuinely care about you Alya. I know I sometimes make crude jokes and I hurt your feelings, but I really do care about you. And that's why I think you should do this." 

He places his hand on my right thigh, and although it's meant to be a comforting gesture, I can't help the way my face heats up, and my heart rate accelerates.

"I I uh uh I... I can't Miles." I stutter, already starting to feel my eyes burn with tears.

The silent tears quickly turn into violet sobs as the memories all come rushing back. Miles immediately wraps me in his arms and pulls me close, soothingly rubbing my back and whispering calm things into my ears.

"Shh shh, you're okay. I'm right here." He says.

I snuggle even closer, and Miles's grip tightens. My sobs eventually quiet down, and I pull away slowly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks, wiping the tears of my face.

I nod.

"Well, it happened when I was in 7th grade. I had been singing my entire life, and people knew me for it. I performed at talent shows, church performances, and I was even in some crappy band with my friends at one point. My mom, who had been completely normal before, started cheating on my dad because he was never home. I didn't tell, because I knew it would wreck my family apart, but I never trusted her again. She began constantly drinking as well, so I had no one. I had Bianca, but I had no one to protect me. Anyways, I remember practicing one of my songs for the upcoming concert in the choir room, and then three boys came in. They were all in 8th grade, and were known around the school for beating up anyone they could. Obviously I was terrified, so I stopped and was silent. They noticed I stopped, and one told me to keep going. I finished my song, but they said it wasn't good enough. As 'punishment' they punched me straight in the face. They made me practice over and over again for them. They kept track of how many times during a song they thought it sounded bad, and for each time they would strangle me for ten seconds. They did it to me almost everyday after school, and I ended up passing out from it one time, but of course I had to lie about it. Even if I told the truth, my family wouldn't care. No one would care. Any time I even think about singing, all I can think about is being strangled, kicked, and slapped." I explain.

Miles doesn't say anything, as he silently tucks my hair behind my ear.

"Do you feel better?" He asks.

"Honestly, yes."

He grabs both of my hands and looks straight into my eyes.

"Alya, please listen to me. That's absolutely sick and disgusting what they did to you, and it makes complete sense that you feel the way you do. But please, just try it again. I promise I'll help you through this. You can do it. I know you can do it." He says.

He gets up and grabs a microphone that was apparently on one of the shelves in my room. He turns to me, and holds the microphone out.

"Sing for me?"