Speak to Me

Taking Small Steps

I grumbled as my alarm went off in the morning. Byron immediately pecked my cheek. I sighed as I turned on my back and rubbed my eyes. As he got out of bed I grabbed my notebook and checked my day. Three kids and Emily. I felt a little bit tired but I had made some progress the previous day. I pulled myself together then wished a great day to my boyfriend. His smile was so bright it almost captivated me again and I wanted to stay with him. I remained strong though and got into my car, drove off and started working.

All day long I had been thinking about Emily. I had no idea what I could do with her. The children noticed I was far away. My thoughts kept drifting away. I knew she would be my toughest case. By the evening I felt proud and boosted, I had made some progress again and it elated my mood. I was ready to take the challenge. I walked to the door full of confidence. After knocking it opened in a minute. The girl looked at me, pointed at my skull T-shirt and gave me a thumbs up then gestured, inviting me in. I walked to the living room slowly. I needed an insight of her life.

My eyes drifted to a picture. It was her mother in a wedding dress, next to a man.

"Is he your father?" I asked but she rolled her eyes and flipped her notepad.

"Step-douche."

"Oh, you're not fond of him."

"Army veteran, now a cop. Total paranoid ass." she picked a picture from her purse.

She was young, and another man hugged her by the shoulder, she was holding a little black puppy. She looked so full of life.

"You have a dog?" I asked smiling.

"He was hit by a car not much after my father died."

"Oh, I always know what to say..." I mumbled "What do you wanna do?"

She gestured towards the stairs. I followed her as she led me in her room. I don't think I had seen a bigger mess before. Clothes all around the floor, scribbles and posters on the walls, and junk on her desk. She casually sat on her bed and lit a cigarette. She held the packet towards me but I just shook my head.

"I quit some years ago."

She shrugged and lay back. My eyes just kept scoping her room wildly until they rested on a guitar. I thought that I could get to her through music.

"Do you play?"

She shrugged but grabbed the guitar by the neck, holding the cigarette between her lips. She tuned the guitar then strummed a little. She clearly teased me. When she looked at me her eyes almost pierced through me, then she put her cigarette out and started playing. I just stood there mesmerized and kept listening to her. The way she played was amazing. Painful, yet really skillful at the same time. I had no idea how much time had passed, I was just standing there like an idiot. I took a deep breath when she stopped playing. I didn't even realize my breathing got uneven or I restricted myself from proper breathing. She frowned as she looked at me.

"Wow." I said softly "Who did teach you?"

She looked away. I sat next to her.

"Your dad?"

She nodded then almost immediately shook her head then gestured to me with the guitar. I put my hands in front of myself defensively.

"Oh no, I don't play. I know some chords but that's all. And it was years ago."

She just shrugged and put the guitar back into its place. She walked to her laptop and put some music on then flipped her notepad.

"Let me show you you don't always need words. Words make it hard. Follow my lead."