Echoes of a Broken Melody

Chapter 8

CW// Underage drug use

AN// THIS STORY IS UNDER CONSTRUCTION!!! TO CONTINUE READING MEANS THAT YOU AGREE TO ACCEPT THAT SOME PLOTLINES, NAMES, AGES, AND PEOPLE WILL CHANGE. THANK YOU FOR BEARING WITH ME AS I WORK TO MAKE THIS EXPERIENCE MORE VALUABLE TO YOU.

As soon as Brooklyn got home, she put the baggie underneath some clothes in her closet, and she erased the texts between her and Sam. It wasn't her first time buying weed, but it was one of the first times she felt truly guilty for doing so.

She could rationalize all the reasons she used it to cope, but those issues no longer presented themselves. She was laid across her bed when a knock on her door startled her to an upright position.

The door opened meekly, as Phil's head popped around the corner. "Can I come in?" he asked, opening the door more. "Sure, I guess," Brook replied, pushing herself to the head of the bed as an invitation.

"I know we've already talked about this" Phil began, pausing to sit on the edge of the bed "But your school starts next week, so we'll have to get uniforms after your doctor's appointment tomorrow"

Brook let out a groan, unsure about which sounded worse. The doctor's appointment? Or being the new kid at school.

"I know, I know. but hey, you'll be able to make a lot of new friends! and think of the classes you'll like?" Phil's optimism was nice, but it didn't help Brooklyn this time. "Yeah, I guess. I just hate being the new kid."

There was a silent moment between the two, Phil making eye contact with Brook occasionally. Finally, the man spoke. "Do... do you want a therapist?" he queried, looking around Brooklyn's room. "No! I- I mean- Maybe? I don't know!"

A thousand thoughts raced through the young girl's head, namely the trouble she'd be in with her parents if her therapist had to report any illegal activity... but that was why she needed a therapist.

She KNEW she needed a therapist, there was no question about it. The question was when.

"I know I need one, I just-- I don't know if I'm ready"

Phil nodded, another sad look in his eye. He had his own experiences with therapists, and he also understood that he couldn't begin to comprehend what Brooklyn was going through. She had been through enough trauma for a lifetime, and then some.

It was difficult. Getting into therapy after school would THEORETICALLY be better , Brook thought, imagining a stable routine implementing itself.

The man finally broke the silence, patting his hand on the bed. "In the meantime, we need to go supplies shopping. I thought, maybe, you and Dan could do that and I could get your uniforms."

Brooklyn nodded quickly, accepting any excuse to end the conversation.

"Do you think I could meet up with an old friend later?" the girl quickly added, a hint of doubt in her voice.

She wasn't used to having friends, or generally being around people. Brook had been isolated for a large portion of her life, grasping for any human contact whenever possible-- usually being denied.

But things have changed. It felt like there was an overwhelming amount of attention, and Brooklyn just wasn't a fan.

"Sure, as long as you make sure to put your stuff away when you get home, first." The two exchanged a smile, and just like that, the day went on.

Phil bought the uniforms and shoes as he said he would, but he also bought her a brown messenger bag and a black Kentucky tie that had a small blue gem in the middle.