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“She’ll be watching over you.”
How many times had she heard those words? It had been the endless refrain of well-meaning relatives, friends and acquaintances since the day of her funeral - words meant to comfort, to somehow fill the hole a mother’s loss left in the life of a child. And maybe there was some comfort in there somewhere, but all the comfort in the world had not been enough to keep the music alive in Julie’s heart without her there to share it.
The piano had sat, silent and shrouded in its white sheet for a year. The quiet seemed to echo around the studio, a stark contrast to the ebb and flow of sound that had filled the space when they sat together at the keys, their innermost thoughts brought to life with the melodies they created. On the rare occasion Julie entered the garage, she could do little more than run a hand lovingly over the surface of the instrument before returning to the relative safety of the house.
They were only words - but that did not mean they weren’t true.
Nothing had been harder for Rose than watching her beautiful, beautiful daughter struggle to find her voice again. How it was she had this window into the living world was beyond her understanding. It started as a vague sense that something had been left unsaid, something that might find its way through the fog that seemed to have settled on Julie’s heart and kept her from the thing Rose knew she was born to do. But as time moved forward, the thoughts began to come into focus - crisp sheets of music paper, black notes and words that she had fought to finish as she knew time was running out.
Words Julie had not yet discovered and that she so clearly needed to hear.
Rose raged against her inability to connect with her daughter. What good was watching her suffer and lose the parts of herself that made her shine? In her frustration she sought out any possible way to send a message - a breeze that opened the doors of the studio as Julie passed; a whisper never heard in Ray’s ear when he sat on the piano stool and spoke to her; a dahlia left in a place Julie was sure to see it. None of these seemed to break through the barrier that separated her from the child that was hurting and losing herself.
She would have to find another way.
When the guitar had first started in her head, it had been like the music was reaching out and curling around the corners of her mind- a long forgotten memory that began to spark tiny points of connection. Remembering something she had once known, she searched the dark corners of her past to bring the jumble of thoughts into something coherent. There was a drum beat now, and a bass line and she could almost hear the lyrics. Music she had heard long ago before something had gone wrong - music that Julie was now listening to, her head moving in time as a smile played on her lips. Closing her eyes, Rose saw the band again as the memory came into sharp focus. A t-shirt, size beautiful, a demo CD, four boys teasing and flirting and ready to hit the big time - young and excited and with everything ahead of them, no idea of the tragedy that would end their careers before they even began.
The memory had to mean something in this moment. Letting the images wash over her, Rose reached out with her mind into the darkness of this other place, searching tirelessly for an energy that might be her answer. She didn’t know how, but somehow she knew if she could just find them, they could be the ones to bring the music back for her little girl. They had to be.
All her energy focused on Julie, Rose whispered two words with all the power she had.
“Help her.”