But it's a different kind of silence, it's a comfortable one.

We've been sitting here in silence for a couple of minutes now. For some reason this feels safe, us here. I hear Ashlyn moving and look at her, but she's already looking at me. I see she made some space on her skateboard, does she want me to sit next to her? "Are you just gonna stare or are you gonna get of the ground and sit here?" she says amusingly. I don't say anything and move to the space she made free for me. She throws her cigarette on the ground and crushes it with her foot. "Have you ever smoked?" she asks curiously. "No." She hums. "So what are you doing outside at night?" she asks curiously. "I guess I just needed to take a walk." I tell her honestly. "Why did you come here?" she asks another question. "I have no idea, I just walked to this skatepark without thinking." I tell her. "Mhm sure." she says with an amusing tone. "What does that mean?" I ask a bit offended. "Mhm nothing." she laughs. Now I'm laughing too, wondering what she's talking about. I shove my arm into her arm, and she laughs even harder. "What do you mean?!" I say through my laughs. "Just.." "Just what?" At this point we're both trying to breathe, because we can't stop laughing. "Just because." We laugh even harder.

It's been 5 minutes since our fit of laughter and now we are sitting here in silence again. Our arms touching, covering my skin with chills. "I think I have to go.." I tell her softly. "Yeah me too." We both stand up, she picks up her skateboard and we walk out of the skatepark silently. Once we reach the streets, I tell her a quick goodbye and turn around, but stop once I hear her voice. "You know what, goodie two shoes.." she says hesitantly, as if she's gonna regret what she's about to say. "you're actually pretty nice." And with that she turns around and walks away. A tiny smile is growing on my face. And I make my way back home.

Laying in bed, I keep replaying what just happened at the skatepark. Why is she being so nice to me? And why do I not even mind it when she is the one to call me 'goodie two shoes'? So many questions. And one very important question. Why do I feel so safe when I'm with her? Even when we're not saying anything. With these thoughts I slowly drift to sleep.

I just came out of school and I'm now sitting in my room. I look at the guitar sitting in the corner of my room, and thoughts flood my mind. My mother was the one who taught me guitar. Since she died, I haven't played on it. But suddenly I feel the urge to pick it up again. I stand up and walk towards the guitar. I hesitantly reach out to the guitar. This is harder than I thought. But once I know it, the guitar is in my hand. I stand there for a minute debating what to do. That's when I fall to the ground with the guitar. The guitar making a very loud noise, once it hits the ground. Tears slip from my eyes. And I watch the guitar laying there. I reach out for it with a shaky hand, and put it on my lap. I wipe some tears away and pluck one string. It feels so familiar, yet so far away. I look down at what my hand is doing, and naturally play the first song my mother had ever learnt me to play on this particular guitar. It feels safe. So incredibly safe.

Once I hear the door slam open, my hand stops what it was doing. And I look at my father coming into my room. He looks angry. "Why are you playing that thing." he says with an angry tone. "I'm sorry dad, I didn't know you were home already.." I say softly. "Do not ever play that thing again." he says sternly. A tear escapes my eyes. "Did you hear me or what?!" he's shouting at this point. "Y-yes dad." I tell him softly. That's when he turns around and slams the door closed. I break down and cannot control my tears. I put my guitar back in its place and distant myself from it once again.

I hear the front door close shut. I look at the clock and see it's 11 pm. I open my door and look if my dad really is gone. I close my door again and walk over to my guitar, that I thought I would have to distance myself from again. But I just can't. Playing it again after such a long time, it felt so familiar and so safe.

It's getting very late and I've been playing my guitar for more than an hour, not even caring. It feels so good. That's when I hear the front door again and I stop what I was doing. I do not want to risk my dad hearing me play after he told me not to. So I silently put the guitar back in place and get ready to go to bed. "Tory!" he screams from downstairs, which makes me jump on my spot. "Come downstairs now!" So I make my way downstairs, thinking to myself that he said more to me today then he did in all the days since that day.

I walk to my dad, who is sitting on the couch and I can clearly smell the alcohol he has been consuming again. "What did I say about that guitar?!" he begins. ""I shouldn't play it.." "So why the fuck were you playing it?" "I'm sorry." I apologise. "If I hear you play that thing again I'm throwing it away." And that's the last thing he says before he drifts to sleep. I walk upstairs again with tears in my eyes and decide to just go to bed.

It's been an hour and I still haven't been able to sleep. It's around 1:30 am, when I decide it would be better to just get out of bed. I get dressed and climb out of my window again.

For some reason my feet took me to this skatepark once again. And there she is again. Seeing her sitting there on her skateboard with a cigarette in her hand, makes all the worries in my mind immediately go away.