Part 1 Tears and Hope
Pale and fragile, her skinny hands strum the smooth, thick strings, weaving soft melodies and calm rhythms for her lonesome friend named "silence".
She cannot stand up nor completely lay down without the nurse's help.
As helpless as she feels, the kindhearted female of 15 years merely sits, body upright, against the cushioned wooden headboard.
The soothing sound of the ukelele reverberates, travelling, through her fingertips and warm her caged cold soul.
Even today, no one comes to visit her.
Even today, no| one visits her.
Even today, n| one visits her.
Even today, | one comes to visit her.
Even today, ju| one comes to visit the girl.
Even today, jus| one person comes to visit the teenager.
Even today, just one person comes to the hospital room caging in a young and bright female plucking away on her beautiful ukelele.
... She remembers the first time, and the only time, someone visited her.
His smile, bright like the heavens, and his figure, as fragile as her own, slowly but surely reflected on the girl's face.
It may have been because her mind let the familiar feeling of company and friendship drift away as the days passed by, but the moment he walked through that gray, creaky door --
-- (he tripped, actually...only after stepping forward did he stumble over his own shoelaces and fall face-flat to the floor...) oh, she remembered all the details; every single one mattered, even...
....a feeling she forgot and never wanted back.
Starting at the age of 10,
for the first time in forever,