would take for the swelling to go down. And now, ten years later, I was still waiting, but I never lost hope. Well, I did lose hope for some time. But Ethan's songs reminded me of how we should never give up and to always believe in miracles.
But it wasn't so easy to do so. Still, I did. I hoped. I believed.
Sandra had such a good time up there on the stage, I could hear it. She didn't sing with Ethan like he'd offered her; instead, she played the drums with Dominik – of course. You see, Sandra only admired Dominik because he knew how to play , she'd told me once. She said that he wasn't only going with the music or the melody, he always brought life to it. Sandra used to play, as well, when she was younger. She had a band of her own in high school, but sadly, the band didn't make it anywhere far from school, and then there was college and everyone got busy starting a new life. She didn't play anymore other than with pencils on her desktop every now and then.
I was so glad that she was enjoying herself – she deserved it. I loved Sandra dearly, I loved her the most. She was, simply, my everything. And a bit more. But I still couldn't help the feeling I got when I thought about how it would feel if I was the one up there on stage. Well, in another world, not this one. Another world where I would be able to see where I was going, where I would be able to see the sights from up on the stage, and how it would feel to stand there higher than anyone, facing everyone. This world, though, I wouldn't be able to see the stairs or whatever they'd put to get you up there. I would've needed help to find where I was walking on the stage. I would've needed Ethan to hold the microphone up for me or place it in my hand to be able to sing – if I was ever up to that, that is. In this world, the sight from up on stage was the same as the sight from the second row I was currently standing in: complete darkness.
I pushed the pain away and smiled, blinking back tears and hoping that no one was looking at me. Pretended I wasn't scared out of my skin because I was standing alone in a crowded place full of people I didn't know. I decided to just be happy for my sister and her five minutes of joy. If anyone deserved to be happy, it was Sandra.
Three weeks later, Dominik Thompson was minutes away from arriving at our house. You could say that Sandra had made quite the impression on him when she was up there on stage. She'd slipped him a card with her phone number. And tonight, he was coming over to have their first date together since going out wasn't a very good idea when you're a celebrity. He wanted them to have some privacy.
"Anna, would you get that, please?" Sandra called when we heard the buzz of the alarm. We lived in a gated community in a two-story house we'd moved in to after our parents passed away in a car accident. We couldn't stay in that old house we were raised in, too many memories. But we didn't sell it, though, only sold Sandra's apartment. The money we’d inherited from the two of my parents, plus what the insurance company paid us, was enough to cover everything we might need for school and college as well as living very comfortably for the rest of our lives. Sandra was twenty-two and I was sixteen when it happened. She was my guardian legally, but for what she'd done for me for the last five years, I liked to think of her as my guardian angel and not just guardian.
"Sure thing," I called back and stood up from the couch I was sitting on in the living room while listening to a TV show where I couldn't keep up with half of the things happening in the episode.
One, two. Arm chair. To the left. One, two, three. Small table. One. Entrance. Another left. One, two, three, four. The foyer. One more step. The door.
I pressed the button and spoke into the intercom, "Hello."
"Yo, Miss Barker."
"Hey, George," I smiled at his inability to call me Anna, no matter how many times I’d told him to do so.
"There is a
But it wasn't so easy to do so. Still, I did. I hoped. I believed.
Sandra had such a good time up there on the stage, I could hear it. She didn't sing with Ethan like he'd offered her; instead, she played the drums with Dominik – of course. You see, Sandra only admired Dominik because he knew how to play , she'd told me once. She said that he wasn't only going with the music or the melody, he always brought life to it. Sandra used to play, as well, when she was younger. She had a band of her own in high school, but sadly, the band didn't make it anywhere far from school, and then there was college and everyone got busy starting a new life. She didn't play anymore other than with pencils on her desktop every now and then.
I was so glad that she was enjoying herself – she deserved it. I loved Sandra dearly, I loved her the most. She was, simply, my everything. And a bit more. But I still couldn't help the feeling I got when I thought about how it would feel if I was the one up there on stage. Well, in another world, not this one. Another world where I would be able to see where I was going, where I would be able to see the sights from up on the stage, and how it would feel to stand there higher than anyone, facing everyone. This world, though, I wouldn't be able to see the stairs or whatever they'd put to get you up there. I would've needed help to find where I was walking on the stage. I would've needed Ethan to hold the microphone up for me or place it in my hand to be able to sing – if I was ever up to that, that is. In this world, the sight from up on stage was the same as the sight from the second row I was currently standing in: complete darkness.
I pushed the pain away and smiled, blinking back tears and hoping that no one was looking at me. Pretended I wasn't scared out of my skin because I was standing alone in a crowded place full of people I didn't know. I decided to just be happy for my sister and her five minutes of joy. If anyone deserved to be happy, it was Sandra.
Three weeks later, Dominik Thompson was minutes away from arriving at our house. You could say that Sandra had made quite the impression on him when she was up there on stage. She'd slipped him a card with her phone number. And tonight, he was coming over to have their first date together since going out wasn't a very good idea when you're a celebrity. He wanted them to have some privacy.
"Anna, would you get that, please?" Sandra called when we heard the buzz of the alarm. We lived in a gated community in a two-story house we'd moved in to after our parents passed away in a car accident. We couldn't stay in that old house we were raised in, too many memories. But we didn't sell it, though, only sold Sandra's apartment. The money we’d inherited from the two of my parents, plus what the insurance company paid us, was enough to cover everything we might need for school and college as well as living very comfortably for the rest of our lives. Sandra was twenty-two and I was sixteen when it happened. She was my guardian legally, but for what she'd done for me for the last five years, I liked to think of her as my guardian angel and not just guardian.
"Sure thing," I called back and stood up from the couch I was sitting on in the living room while listening to a TV show where I couldn't keep up with half of the things happening in the episode.
One, two. Arm chair. To the left. One, two, three. Small table. One. Entrance. Another left. One, two, three, four. The foyer. One more step. The door.
I pressed the button and spoke into the intercom, "Hello."
"Yo, Miss Barker."
"Hey, George," I smiled at his inability to call me Anna, no matter how many times I’d told him to do so.
"There is a
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