Sasha Of Arc (The Arc Saga, Book 1) - Rewriting/Editing

Chapter 2: Something To Fear

I placed my pen on top of my closed journal. The wheels moved my body on my task chair backward after I pushed myself away from my desk. Scanning the room, the only thing that caught my eye was my black acoustic guitar. I saw it leaning against the edge of my bed.

I grabbed the neck of the guitar from the floor and began to dance my fingers on the strings. Whenever I had the time or day, I drowned my worries in my guitar. Mom is not here like I want her to be, so playing music is the only thing that keeps me going. Sometimes, playing a tune is to keep me sane.

I arose as a light knock came on the door. "Honey, are you okay in there?" Dad asked. His voice was heard through the door as I watched the doorknob turn. He stood in my doorway once he entered my room. Dad leans against the door when he crosses his arms over his chest. I ceased to play the guitar to give him my immediate attention.

"Don't let me bother you from playing your guitar," he told me.

I turn the tuning peg's metal piece on the head of the fretboard. With my eyes focused on the guitar, I brush my fingers on the strings. I enjoyed Dad silently watching me because immersing himself in the music is what I love about him.

"Your grandmother is taking a nap. So, I thought I'd stop by to check on you."

"Okay," I nod, remaining focused on my guitar.

"Written any new song?" he asked.

"Nope. I'm swimming in writer's block."

"I'm sure you'll find your spark," he assured me.

I sensed his lightweight on the bed from sitting beside me. Dad places his hand on my shoulder to grip softly. I curled my lips to a smile when I looked at him, then shifted my gaze to my guitar.

"Well, look down there," I said, pointing at the bin by my desk. A stack of wrinkled paper balls filled the bin. Even two were lying on the floor.

"That many?" he asked, tilting his head.

"Yes! I shouldn't call myself a daughter of Marie when my lyrics aren't hitting," I told him.

I put the guitar down to return my eyes to Dad. He presses his hand softly on my back. I rested my head on his shoulder to enjoy him circulating my spine.

"Sasha, don't compare yourself to your mother," he says, looking at me. "You two have beautiful voices that I can't get enough of. I'm sure you'll get your spark back."

"Dad, I know that. Look, I'm just tired."

"I know. I understand that," he replied, kissing my forehead.

"Okay. And Dad? I want to thank you for defending me," I told him, resting my chin on his shoulder.

"No problem, sweetheart," he said, accepting our embrace.

I took a deep breath and exhaled, remaining content in his arms. We pulled away to look at each other. He opened his mouth to say something, but a squeal creak emerged from my door. Mia stands in my doorway, staring at us. I squinted my eyes to notice a tear stain on her cheek.

"Honey, what's wrong?" Dad asked.

"I've had a vision," she told him.

Dad and I looked at each other with widened eyes. He turns his attention to Mia standing there. Her eyes widened like ours, but she left her mouth open, shocked at what she saw.

"What was it about?" I asked her.

"I...I-I saw statues of angels surrounding Mom's bed. They were watching her. And..." Mia trailed off from her words. I watch her lower her head to stare at the floor. Dad asked her another question to get her out of her thoughts. She answered him, "Is...Is Mom going to die?"