Strings Attached

~Chapter 10~

Sometimes, some people have no idea what music is, it doesn't permeate their soul. And until it doesn't, they can never master any of the instruments. It's hard to disrupt their dreams.

Only ten more minutes and she'll be free. I bide the time by trying to think of a song to sing. The squabble between me and Richie Rich comes to my mind, and I feel angered. His words stabbed my heart, like they mostly do. I know I'm a pauper but he doesn't have to rub it in my face, seeing as he is the one who snatched everything from me.

And somehow, my thoughts go far back to my mum. If she'd lived, I wouldn't have had to face any of this. We'd be a complete, happy family, and I wouldn't have had to worry about earning my own bread, alongside completing my school education! I wouldn't have to go through all the sh*t that I go through on a daily basis.

There would never have been this feeling of unwanted-ness, if she'd lived. I will myself not to cry, it's not manly, and it could tarnish my reputation badly. But I know I failed when one small teardrop jumps from my eyes and travels through my hands, ending up on the floor. I fiercely wipe my eyes. But then another follows, and then another.

"Oh, Dan, come here, darling," I hear Aunt Jude cry sympathetically from a distance and I lift my bleary eyes to look up at her with her arms open wide, beckoning me to her. Surprisingly, there's no one else in the room except me and her. I didn't even notice anyone go! And not able to take it anymore, I crash into her frail but comfortable arms, chucking out silent tears from my eyes. She rubs her hand on the length of my back to soothe me, murmuring optimistic words into my ears. I know they're sham though.

I dry my eyes in less than three minutes and stand up straight, unable to look into my teacher's eyes after being such a ninny. "It's alright to feel a bit down sometimes, my boy. There's no shame in crying." She encloses my hand in her slender wrinkly ones and looks at me tenderly. "You're like a son to me, Daniyal. Maybe even a grandson, which I never had."

"Anyway, never hesitate to come to me if ever you need a hug, okay?" she tries to wrench out a promise from me and I nod. "Do you want to sing anything today?" she asks me and I mumble a small 'yes', by now having a song in mind. Even though the lyrics are a bit jumbled up and seem screwed, I feel it could portray my state best.

I struggle to get the right tune on my guitar for a while, as Aunt Jude indicates me to relax my shoulders and strum slower. But slowly I manage to get it right and prepare to sing "Back To You" by Bryan Adams. I don't think Aunt Jude will be happy with my song choice. She wants me to move on. How do I tell her I can't... ever? It's been eight years but it's still fresh in my memory, like it happened yesterday.

I've been down – I've been beat

I've been so tired – that I could not speak

I've been so lost that I could not see

I wanted things that were out of reach

Then I found you & you helped me through

And ya showed me what to do

And that's why I'm coming back to you...