One Small Step | ✔

A Cold Presence Turned Warm

In my new room,
I pace.
What else is there to do?
In mere hours,

I get to go to my
music and art
therapy classes.
Joy.

Dad isn't driving me.
Of course.
Too preoccupied
with nothing.

It's the middle of spring.
The leaves may be green,
the flowers blooming,
but there's no mistaking the air of winter.

Still a bit chilly.
I breathe out a puff of air
and it turns visible
right in front of me.

I head out of the house,
gloved,
A scarf around my neck.
A black toque on my head.

I wear my snug boots,
up to my knees.
The wind blowing
my blonde hair back.

The streets are empty
snow covering the 
grey pavement.
Silence reigns.

It takes fifteen minutes
until I see it.
The sign that says
Dara's Music and Art

According to my brother,
this is probably the bluntest person
ever.
She was once Ambrose's girlfriend.

That's how Tate found her.
He knew that Ambrose had a lot of friends
in different places.
But to have one here when I "needed" one was a miracle.

I don't recall her.
But Ambrose is 
ten years older than me.
Dara was apparently his high school girlfriend.

I would have been seven.
Ambrose never seemed to like our family.
So even if I was old enough to remember,
I doubt Dara ever came to visit.

I take a deep breath,
stare at the door for a moment,
and hesitantly open the door.
People are bustling around the place,

Despite the name's lack of creativity
it seems to be a pretty popular place.
A raven-haired woman walks toward me.
She smiles at me.

"Tallulah Bay, yes?
You and Ambrose look alike, though,"
She frowns.
"I can't pinpoint what exactly."

She extends her hand.
"Dara Williams."
"Tallulah Bay."
I reply, my voice small.

I cringe
at my voice,
at my appearance,
at myself.

Clearly,
Dara Williams knows her way around.
Confidence radiates off her.
I'm just a miniscule prensence.

She gives me a smile,
"Come on, 
we'll go to that room."
She points to a door at the back of the place.

It's small but comfy, 
Art is hung on all the walls,
but despite all this,
It's cold in this room.

She pulls out her chair and
gestures across the table for me to sit.
"I won't bite.
Just relax."

Cautiously,
I sit,
obeying,
her words.

She leans forward
and says, 
"I heard from Ambrose,
You used to sing a lot."

"You've talked to Ambrose?"
Surprise is ummistakable
in my voice.
She nods.

"Whether he was upstairs,
or down,
you'd be singing
and there was no way to stop you."

I would.
I still remember,
Carina waking me in the morning,
singing whatever she liked,

and I would join in.
Once Jacob had even shouted to Carina,
to turn off the radio,
but it was really me singing.

I had piano lessons once
guitar lessons,
and violin lessons too,
My teacher, my sister

Now,
Dara looks at me,
pulls a violin and bow out from
behind the chair.

She slides it across the table.
"Mind playing for me?"
Her tone is soft,
yet it's not a question.

But I shake my head anyway.
Dara says,
"I see,"
with no judgement in her voice.

Then she takes out
a blank, lined
piece of paper,
and a pencil.

"I know,
there are words in your head,
right now,
repeating themselves,"

Her voice is soothing,
"Write them down,
or just create music.
let go."

Let go.
I wish I could,
but it'll be years until I'm ready.
I stare at the pen, paper and violin.

Dara leaves me in the room,
giving me my privacy.
The door shuts,
and then I begin to play.

The violin resting on my shoulder,
my chin on resting on it.
The bow in my hand,
My eyes closed.

I begin to draw the bow 
across the strings,
my fingers shift quickly,
and I play whatever note comes to mind.

The notes come together,
creating a song
in the key of
A minor.

It's sorrowful,
I let the grief
flow over the strings,
melody fills the room.

Before I realize it,
I have created a song.
I set down the violin,
And take the pencil instead.

The words find their way
across the page,
word after word,
verse after verse.

When I finish,
I pick up bow and violin
start to play,
and the words flow in my head.

Losing myself in the song,
I don't realize that the door has opened.
Only when I open my eyes again,
do I feel eyes on me.

I turn
and Dara stands there,
smiling
tears welling in her brown eyes.

"You're welcome to come back
whenever you want."
She simply says,
before turning and leaving.

The room feeling so chilly before, suddenly feels as warm as summer.