SHATTERED

twenty-nine

saylor

FLASHBACK
SAYLOR: 12 YEARS OLD

"okay, show me what chords you know, and say them as you play them," arlo instructed.

i looked down at the guitar. mom and dad had bought it for arlo years back. when i had said something about wanting to learn how to play, arlo told me if i actually learned how to, then i could keep the guitar. he's bought two of his own since he got this one, so he didn't mind letting me have this one, especially if i was as interested in it as i said.

"okay..." i mumbled. it took me a moment to position my fingers correctly. "c... g... e... d... a."

when i tried to play the a chord, the guitar made an ugly sound. i cringed. i already knew i messed it up somehow.

arlo let out a small laugh. "it's okay. look, your fingers are in the wrong position," he spoke softly. he reached his hands out to adjust my fingers. "now try."

i strum the guitar again. it sounded better this time, but it was still a bit muted. "i can't do it," i complained in a whine.

"of course you can," he assured. "you've just got to keep trying, okay? you'll get there eventually. i know you will."

"you really think i can do it?" i pouted as i dropped my hand from the fretboard. i glanced down at my fingers, and i saw how red they already were.

i like playing, but at the same time, it hurts. arlo said after a while of playing, it won't hurt anymore, but i don't know. i hope so.

"i know you can," he placed his hand on my head as he scrunched his nose up at me and smiled. i giggled as he ruffled my hair.

i can do it.

•

the next day, when i got home from school, i walked into the house, but i immediately paused. my brows knitted together.

"you're a disgrace! how dare you bring that into my home?!" i heard mom yell.

"we're taking you to an institute as soon as possible," dad hollered.

the door shut behind me. everything went quiet for a brief moment. "saylor, sweetie, is that you?" mom called out.

"yes, ma'am," i called back.

what were they talking about?

they were definitely talking to arlo... but what did he do? arlo is a good kid. why are mom and dad so angry at him?

i heard a door slam close, followed by footsteps. mom walked towards the front entrance with a forced smile on her face. i looked up at her with furrowed brows.

"what happened? why were you yelling?" i asked.

"it's fine, sweetie. it's nothing for you to worry about," she assured softly as she placed her hand on my back. "why don't you go practice your guitar until dinner time, okay?"

i walked to my room with a small huff. i knew there was something wrong, but i also knew mom and dad wouldn't tell me. i had a feeling that arlo won't tell me either.

i looked to the guitar, which was on a stand in the corner of my room. i sighed as i walked over towards it.

•

after a few hours, it was dinner time. usually, we all talk with one another as we ate. tonight, it was unusually silent.

"how was school today, saylor?" dad finally spoke up as he looked towards me.