Tune In

Laying on her bed, drawing in her book, with earbuds in and playing some pop music, bopping her head to the beat. She wore her favorite pair of jeans and a gray T-shirt. Her jeans never had holes in them, she hated the way those kinds looked.

Over the sound of the music in her ears, she heard a bang, like the sound of something heavy dropping. She slowly pulled out one earbud to listen. Her older brother and her mother were arguing. Again. Something about money. Again. She waited a moment, listening to see if there would be any more to this argument, but she heard her brother loudly sigh, pick up his keys and storm out of the house without another word.

She went down stairs at a casual pace, trying to be convincing of not having heard the angry ending to whatever just happened. Her only goal was to make sure her mom would be okay, and then avoid her for the night. She cares about her mother deeply, but she knows she’s not good at consoling her in the way she needs. Her mother usually handles it best on her own anyway. She was used to being on her own so much of her life, and being a single mom came easy to her. Well, as easy as being a single parent can be. At least that’s how she seemed. She wanted to be like her. So well put together while up against adversity. She’s so strong.

She heard her mother cleaning the dishes in the kitchen, and appeared to be scrubbing a little harder than usual. However, her foot was tapping along to the beat of the country song on the radio. Her head turned slightly to look at her daughter, giving a quick but gentle smile.

“Oh, didn’t hear you come down, could you do your momma a little favor and turn up the radio for me?”

She nodded silently and turned up the dial on the radio sitting on the windowsill, then went over to the fridge to grab strawberry, popping it in her mouth and then turning back around and heading back up to her room.

She sat on her bed, but did not move. Her drawing was laying on front of her but she just stared ahead at the wall, lost in her own mind. Thoughts about her brother and mother raced through her head, as well as self deprecating thoughts too.

They're fighting because it's too hard to take care of you. Too much money.

You better get good grades, so maybe you can get a decent job after college.

But you won't, because you're not good enough. You're going to fail!

So pathetic.

Did you do your calculus homework?

What do your friends think of you? Of the few you have left?

If you started saving up for a car now, how long would it take to afford a down payment?

Do you even have any useful talents? Playing guitar won't get you a good job, you know…

Her hands started to grip onto her bed sheets roughly, until she shook her head a few times, then opened up her eyes and looked around for her headphones in front of her on the bed. She quickly put them on and plugged them into her phone. She scrolled down to her music app, then to the playlists she'd made, and pressed play.

Instantly she was taken away, drifting off in her imagination as the music made her slowly forget about her real world piece by piece, at least for this moment. She imagined herself in a music video, sword fighting with her "enemies" with swift and artful moments, her face serious yet soft. After defeating them, she danced across the empty space with great passion, slowing as the song came to an end, where she held her pose. She imagined the clapping and cheering of an audience, and smiled as she silently thanked them.

…

The next day, she was walking through the halls at her college in her favorite jeans and a pink hoodie, which the sleeves had started to fray from the way she played with them constantly when bored in classes. She turned at the last door in the hall, going to the back corner and taking her seat there, as usual.

She was honestly very smart. And she didn’t really have to try either, but she never bragged about it. Maybe a few times when she was in grade school, but after the tiniest bit of bullying she didn’t desire to talk to classmates much at all. But she started to get a little more comfortable letting people in during late high school, and made some friends from the school band.. However, only two of them she’s stayed friends with since.

Despite college being the place you meet young and aspiring minds from all around the country and the world, she didn't have interest in getting close with any of them. She focused on her studies and worked hard, both on that and with her part time job at the late night cafe. She really liked it at the cafe. Typically the only customers she gets are artists and night owls who go there to quietly type away on their laptops during weeknights. On the weekends, however, there were performances of all kinds, from poetry readings, to singers, to improv acts. She loved to see those brave enough to share their talents with the world, even if that world is only the locals of their tiny town. Getting extra hours there helped her get closer to buying a car, but also enjoyable because she got to work more of those weekends.

She looked up at the clock to see that only twenty minutes had passed, and there was still thirty left. After taking whatever essential notes she needed, she had started to doodle casually. She wasn’t really good at art particularly, but doodling helped settle her mind. Except, today it wasn’t the same. Thoughts kept racing, and she felt like she was breathing a little faster than usual. Her foot tapped rapidly. Two minutes passed. The thoughts in her head louder, and louder…

She quickly grabbed her bag and quickly made her way out of the room, trying to ignore any stares she may have gotten.

Her chest started to tighten up, her breathing still rapid. She looked around frantically to find somewhere to get alone. She knew what this was and what to do, but it didn’t change how awful she felt in the moment every time.

After a turn down a few halls, she found an empty computer lab. She had at least 20 minutes, that should be enough time. She dropped her things down at the first desk and pulled out her headphones, plugging them in her phone. She scrolled for a bit and pressed play.

The notes filled her mind. The contrasting yet soothing sounds took her away once more. In her mind, she flew about herself, breaking free from the chains of her anxiety, of the pressure to perform well, to be a good daughter and sister. To make her closest and only friends happy. She tuned in to her own body, her heart rate and breathing slowly to a normal pace. She put her hand to her chest and breathed deeply, then rolled her shoulders back. In her mind, she had flown over to a stage where she joined the band, taking lead guitar. She looked toward the bassist to see it was also herself, nodding and smiling, as she mouthed the words you got this. The drums was also her, grooving to the beat and pausing to give her a thumbs up. Her other self, as the singer, sang the chorus.

The song ended, and the whole band clapped and cheered.

She can do this. And she’ll be alright.