From the first hello To the last goodbye From the first smile To the last cry I want you to stay by my side Oh sweetheart I want you to stay by my side My fingers moved rapidly as I strummed the guitar. I moved my index finger to the second fret of third string and played the bottom four strings. Every hour of every day Every day of every year In the rain, in the snow In the dark, in the glow I want you to stay by my side Oh sweetheart I want you to stay by my side "Crappy lyrics. Lousy tune. You are a disappointment, Alicia." my inner voice scolded who I knew was right. Take my soul, Take my heart Leave no thing, Spare no part Cause sweetheart, I want to stay by your side Oh oh oh I want you to stay by my side My finger was moving at an alarmingly high speed. Yet I couldn't feel any emotion. My composition was hollow. It was not like those songs that could make the tears burst through your eyes. There was no feelings, no passion, nothing. Just empty words. Till my last breath I want you to stay by my side Till the end of time I want you to stay by my side "Damn it." I growled loudly as I threw the guitar on my side. I heard sound of clicking of tongue. Lifting my head, I looked at my father leaning against the door. "It was beautiful." he spoke in a soft voice and walked towards me. I moved aside to make some space for him. "Stop lying, dad." I scoffed. "It was crap." His hand moved towards my waist and he drew comforting circles on my back. I sighed, tears blinded my vision. Resting my head on his shoulder, I let a small sob escape my mouth. "Why are we moving, Dad? Why can't we stay in Florida?" I sniveled. "You know the truth, Alicia. If it was up to me, we would never leave this house." he cleared. "This house is very dear to me Ali. This was the place where your mother and I started our journey. This was the place where you were born. This was the place where she-" he paused for a moment. "Where she spent her last days." I felt his body shudder a little. I knew he was right. If it was not necessary, he would have never though about moving to New York. It has been five years since mom left this world. Yet, dad still loved her with all his heart. I have witnessed him whimpering in the kitchen whenever he cooks her favorite pasta. I have watched him crying in his room, holding her photo. Every Valentines day, he hides in his bed and reads one of her favorite books. That is the kind of love I wanted in my life. Alas! Boys nowadays only cares about finding new excuses to touch a girl. "Ali." his voice pulled me out of the trance. I pulled away and rubbed my eyes with the back of my hands. His own eyes were brimming with moisture. "Your phone is vibrating." he pointed towards my mobile phone. The caller ID was showing my best friend's name. "Good night." Dad kissed my forehead and exited the room. Picking up the call, I prepared myself for the loud chirpy voice of Rachel. "Hey girl, how's the packing going?" she asked cheerily. "Almost done." I responded wearily. "I can't believe you are moving to New York. I can't imagine my life without you bro." her voice turned forlorn. "Awwww." I teased. "Don't think so high of yourself. I am sad because I won't be able to admire your handsome dad." she joked. "Eww." I exasperated. This is not the first time I was hearing someone praise my dad's looks. For a man about to reach his fifties, he was in really good shape. Many women tried to catch his attention after mom's death but he never even cast a glance at their direction. "On a serious note, take care of yourself." she changed the topic. "I would." "And don't forget to send me pics of your new hot classmates." she giggled. "Do I look like a creep to you?" I rolled my eyes. "Do you really have to ask?" she laughed. "Okay Al, dad is calling me. I need to go" After cutting the call, I placed the phone on the side table, I pulled my pajamas from the cupboard and made my way to the bathroom. As I stripped my clothes off, my eyes landed on the mirror and I assessed my face. I inherited my father's defined features and my mother's small height. My hair was dark brown, almost black. Unlike dad's piercing grey gaze and mom's mesmerizing blue orbs, I had dull brown eyes. I didn't care much about my looks though. No matter how smart or beautiful you are, there will always be someone smarter, more beautiful than you. So what's all this fuss about? I guess I would never understand. Smiling at my reflection, I started the shower and let the warm water calm my mind. After spending half an hour under the shower, I felt a lot lighter. Changing into my PJs, I snuggled into the warm duvet and pulled out mom's favorite "Me before you" from the side drawer. It was almost 12 when I stopped reading and turned the table lamp off. "My last night in Florida." I exhaled loudly and closed my eyes, waiting for the sleep to finally envelop me. ______________________