[1] Blank Slate || Julie and the Phantoms ✔

CHAPTER 19: Shadows ✔️

LUKE IS PERCHED on the edge of my bed, leaning as far forward as possible. He's making an effort to give me distance, which is sweet, but I know that he hates being apart. The singer isn't one for emotional moments, so he wants to cheer me up.

We both know that can't happen so soon. I need time to process what I just witnessed through my hidden long-term memories. As always, I am processing this information through a song.

I don't have one that displays exactly how I'm feeling, but there is one that is close enough.

"This is a song I wrote for you," I whisper. From his slow nod, I can tell that he heard me.

"We all got nightmares in our dreams. We look for someone to believe in us and show us the way," I glance at him as I sing, "and make it okay. The world can be dangerous, dangerous."

Luke's brown eyes are already beginning to pool with tears. He does that fast-blink thing that men tend to do when they are trying not to cry.

Without missing a beat, I continue. This time, my lyrics are empowering.

"There's something so rare in your veins not a single thing I would change and oh, if you only knew how I see you, would you come alive again, alive again?"

Luke smiles lightly.

He definitely does not miss the irony. In this case, I mean alive in a metaphorical sense. Luke's death killed a part of his parents and seeing him like that has pushed him deeper into his own sorrow.

At this point, I twist my body forward so that we are less than a foot apart. This means that I have to strain to reach the keyboard with my right hand and play on tempo, but it doesn't bother me.

I sing about how our shadows are similar, but they'll disappear in the light. These nightmares won't go on forever, even if I have to suffer through every painful memory of my lifetime. I will get through it. I have people backing me, who care about me and won't call me crazy.

I have Julie, who has been sent to therapy for grief counseling.

I have Flynn, who basically has the personality of a Gen Z Leigh Anne.

I have Alex, who will match my feelings whether we are laughing or crying.

I have Reggie, who will turn my sorrow into joy with jokes and unintentionally brighten my day by being himself.

I have Teresa, Mia, and Blake, the younger siblings that I need to be a good example for.

And there's Daniel and Taylor, proud foster parents of a sick girl who drained their bank account with medical bills, but not their supply of love for her.

All of these people I met because of my tragedy, whatever happened.

"It's okay to be afraid," I sing softly, almost forgetting to play. "Just walk like you're never alone."

Luke has enough songwriting skills to guess the melody that follows.

We sing together, "I don't mind your shadows."

Luke debates whether or not to hold my left hand, then places his hand on my knee, too wary of my injury. It stops me in my tracks, causing me to get off beat as I forget that breathing exists.

"...your shadows," I whisper, echoing the line that we sang. "Baby, I don't."

There's another verse, bridge, and chorus that I've written to the song, but I'm too entranced to continue. The chords that I recorded for my left hand keep playing.

Luke's right hand is still on my left knee. His brown eyes hold warmth. It's like seeing the earth for the first time after a harsh winter, relishing how the deep brown color means that something can grow from it.