Part 7
Six year old Cassidy was sat at the kitchen counter, spooning cereal into her mouth as she listened to the radio. Today was her sixth birthday, and she was excited to see what the day held. Finishing her breakfast, she put her bowl in the sink and turned the radio off. Once she did, she heard some music coming from one of the other rooms. She stood and listened for a moment before smiling and walking through the house in the direction of the music.
In the sitting room was her father, Christopher, stood in front of a stand with some sheet music, playing it on his flute. Cassidy smiled and sat down nearby, listening intently. Christopher had been an accomplished flute player during his time at Fielding, and Cassidy loved listening to him play. Once he finished the tune he was playing, Cassidy applauded him. He saw his daughter, smiled and bowed.
"Thank you, thank you," he said, before putting the flute back in its case and walking over to his daughter, ruffling her hair and kissing the top of her head. "Did you like your birthday presents, honey?"
"Yeah, Daddy, they were great," Cassidy replied, beaming.
At that moment, Melissa came into the room with another present. This one was a long, rectangular shape, wrapped in green paper with a blue bow on it. She walked over and handed it to Cassidy with a smile on her face.
"One last present for you, sweetie," Melissa said, stepping away, "Go on, open it."
Cassidy grinned and tore open the paper. Inside was a long, black, rectangular box with a clasp on it. She opened the clasp and looked inside and gasped at what she saw.
"You got me my own flute?" she said, looking between her parents.
"That's right, honey," Christopher replied, "And I'm going to teach you how to play it. What do you say?"
Cassidy put the box down on the seat and got up, hugging both her parents.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
Fifteen year old Cassidy came home from school and walked up to her bedroom. She dropped her book bag on her bed and went into her closet. Changing out of her uniform into a pair of black pants and a red sweater, she noticed an old box on the floor, under her clothes. She pulled it out and opened it up. The box contained several things she'd been allowed to keep that belonged to her father. Mostly old photographs, but there was one item she was looking for. Right at the bottom of the box was a long, red, rectangular case. She opened it to reveal her late father's flute inside. She ran her hand along it and stared at it for a moment before closing the case and returning the box to the closet.
Cassidy then walked over to her dresser and opened the bottom drawer. Contained within was a similar black case which contained her own flute. She opened it and took the flute out. She then sat on her bed and started playing. She wasn't as good as her father, but she still enjoyed playing. She was interrupted by a knock on her door.
"Come in," she said.
Her stepfather, Phillip Foster, opened the door and poked his head around. "Hi, Cassidy. Listen, could you do me a favour? Your mother's sick and is trying to get some sleep. Could you perhaps just keep it quiet in here?"
Cassidy sighed. "OK," she said, putting her flute back in its case.
"Thanks, sweetheart," Phillip said with a weary smile before closing the door.
Cassidy put the box back into the dresser and returned to the closet, picking out what looked like a large book from one of the shelves. She turned it on its side to reveal a combination lock. Opening the lock, she retrieved her diary from within and set it on her desk. She opened it to that days date, picked up a pen and started writing.
Seven years. I can't believe it's been over seven years since Daddy died. I still miss him every day. The day I found out he died was the worst day of my life. I really wish you could come back. I miss going into the sitting room and listening to him play his flute. I still have the flute, and I'll never let it go.
Why does everyone I care about leave my life? Friends abandon me, boys never date me more than once. I hate being alone. I just want someone to like me. Is that such a bad thing? Is that too much to ask? Phillip tries, but it's just not the same. And Mother is too wrapped up in her art duties to pay much attention. I wish she'd spend more time with me.
Cassidy took a deep breath and wiped a tear away before continuing.
I have hope. I was asked out on a date this weekend. Brandon is his name. He's cute and kind of funny. If things go well, maybe he'll come with me to the Winged Tree Country Club next week for the benefit the Maryland Art Society is putting on. In any case, I'm going to be taking lots of photos. It should be fun.
Cassidy paused for a moment, and then finished off.
Daddy, I love you and I miss you more than you will ever know.
With that, she closed her diary and put it back in the closet. She looked at the box on the floor one more time and then grabbed her book bag to make a start on her homework.
To Be Continued...
