The events that follow "My Guardian Angel" are depicted in this sequel. For Elora Brown and her father, life is about to get harder this time. Not only ignoring the past but also facing the possibility that people won't trust her.
*****...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
My light purple curtains allow a ray of light to shimmer inside. It moves around the space, giving the walls a delicate, dreamy glow. A captivating play of shadows is produced by the softly moving curtains, which enhances the ambiance. The sound of a guitar being played in the living room woke me up. Without trying to interrupt anything, I wasn't sure how to go about that. I started by leaving the bedroom and walking the opposite way to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I could still hear the faint guitar strumming and echoing throughout the house as I stood in front of the mirror. My dad's voice was singing along with the sound of the acoustic guitar.
Darling, you're my blood
You have my heartbeat
You have my heartbeat, beating loud
And I'm waiting for you, love, to feel your heartbeat
And I'm aching to hold you now
That is the most beautiful song I've ever heard. I know who sings it. Dad must have chosen to sing it to get something off his chest about what was going to happen today. After giving my mouth a final rinse with water, I cautiously made my way down the hallway. To keep me happy, I wanted to hear more of his singing. He was strumming a Dreadnought, which is his model of guitar. The fact that Martin designed the design in 1916 makes it amazing. It shows that the volume has the highest frequency, counting the bass sound.
I will be your shoulder
When you're feeling pain
I will try to make it all better
I will be your father
I will be your friend
I will be here for you forever
Those were the final lyrics he sang before placing the guitar on the other side of the couch in the right corner. The corners of the chair and couch touched, creating a closed-off area around them.
"You love that song." He said that, by the way, he sounded; he didn't turn to look at me while picking up his folders from the table. "I'm taking you to a therapist at nine-thirty.
