On her eighth birthday, Carmilla got her first guitar. The young girl wore a bright smile as she reached up to snatch the rosewood acoustic guitar from the store clerk's hands, quickly running off to her grinning mother standing by the store's entrance and leaving her chuckling father to finish paying for the instrument.
Her mother knelt down to the child's eye level, placing a hand on Carmilla's soft cheek, "It's beautiful, my darling." Carmilla's smile grew impossibly larger.
For years, Carmilla practiced playing her new instrument, determined to learn every secret that lay beneath the metal strings and sleek wood of her guitar. Some would even call the young girl a musical prodigy. With the calloused hands of a seasoned guitar player, Carmilla's surprisingly delicate fingers fluttered effortlessly across the strings, manipulating the instrument to create sweet, enchanting music.
Along the journey of studying the six-string instrument, Carmilla also realized the wonders of singing. Starting out with low murmurs as she strummed her guitar, Carmilla's naturally rich voice developed into a pure, angel-like accompaniment to her guitar's melody.
When she was fifteen, Carmilla sat by her father's hospital bed, grasping onto his left hand. Opposite her, Carmilla's mother held his other hand as she quietly sobbed. Her father was struggling to fight his final battle with cancer.
Even on his deathbed, Carmilla's father still wore a large grin as he spoke to his only child, "You'll be alright, cupcake. I'll always be watching over you. When you play that guitar, I'll always be there listening to my baby girl and that sweet voice of yours. Never forget the music, sweetheart."
Carmilla nodded and tightened her hold on his hand, refusing to cry in front of her father. She had to stay strong for him. For her mother. For herself.
Pressing her forehead against their entwined hands, Carmilla closed her eyes as her parents whispered their last goodbyes. She didn't look up until she heard her mother's sobs grow louder and the final resounding beep of the heart monitor.
On her eighth birthday, a police officer stood at Laura's doorstep. Hiding behind her father's leg and looking up at the man in a blue uniform, Laura could hardly comprehend what was happening, "Daddy? What's wrong? When's Mommy coming home?"
Tears streaming down his face, Laura's father knelt down to the child's eye level, tucking a strand of Laura's hair behind her ear, "Just a second, L. How about you go play with Eisen while I finish talking to the nice policeman, okay? Then I'll come tell you everything. Does that sound good?"
The young girl nodded, running off to fetch a small black kitten from a crate in the living room. Laura had gotten Eisen as a birthday gift from her grandparents. The cat looked up at Laura with bright yellow eyes as she slowly petted his soft fur, causing Eisen to let out a small purr.
Her father walked into the room, sitting across from Laura with Eisen lying between them. He was still crying.
Laura stopped petting Eisen as she listened intently to her father. He gently explained what had happened to her mother, why the police officer came to their home. A careless driver ran a red light. Her mother died on impact. At least there was no pain.
But there was pain. It was unbearable for the first few days. Laura would cry for hours as her father held her. It was tragic really, for a girl to lose her mother at such a young age. Her friends and family members tiptoed around her as if Laura were made of glass. The common belief was that this fragile little girl had to be shielded from the harsh realities of the "real" world. Her father even removed her from public school and taught her himself in the comfort of their home.
However, Laura began to grow tired of her sheltered life. She was annoyed of constantly being treated like a child. Sure, she was small in size, but she wasn't a toddler.
After endless begging, her father drove Laura to her first day of public high school when she was fifteen. She hugged her father goodbye and strode through the front doors of the school with a bright smile. Laura couldn't be a little girl forever.
