8 08: The Day I Found A Guitar

JACKSON

Who knew that the take-out would be for her family? Her sister also looked to be around Lillian's age. If they met, would the two girls become friends?

He went back to the restaurant he worked after delivering his last order and went to the locker rooms to change back into his usual attire, bidding farewell to the workers there and popping in his manager's office to say he had finished the deliveries. The manager shook his hand with a grateful smile and gave him his pay for the day, Jackson going home in better spirits. He actually liked Manager Jared; a short and stout man with twinkling eyes and kind smile that Jackson preferred over his house with only Lillian as his source of light and hope there, not his father that became the shell of his former self after his wife left him.

When he arrived home he looked around and saw no sign of his mother.

It's not that he hated her; after his dad left for reasons unknown, his mother withdrew into herself and spent her days sulking. It was honestly better than being a violent drunkard who would do whatever and blame the mess on alcohol. But still, it made Jackson's heart hurt whenever his mom would only greet them and give a lazy smile or wave as acknowledgement instead of asking how their day went or if they needed anything else other than money.

His mother knew he had a job though, which he attended to every Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays.

Oh... and there she was now watching television.

Jackson hesitated for a second before greeting, "Hey Mom. I'm home."

"Hey hon," his mother replied dully without even looking up from the television.

Jackson bit his lip and tried conversation.

"Where's Lillian?"

"She must be in her room doing stuff. Bright kid she is."

Jackson couldn't agree more. He didn't attempt to coax more replies and instead went upstairs and knocked on his sister's room.

"Yes?"

"Hey brat it's me."

"Oh I didn't realize you were gone." He glared at the door, hoping the runt there knew his expression was directed towards her. "What's for dinner?"

"Any suggestions or something?" he asked.

The door opened, Jackson tilting his chin downward to meet his sister's scrutinizing eye.

Lillian's nose wrinkled. "Not particularly. Oh, and why is your guitar here in my room?"

He blinked. "Guitar? What do you mean I don't own a guitar or anything. Do I look like the musician type to you?"

Lillian crossed her arms.

"Then why, pray tell, do I have two guitars instead of one? I certainly don't own the beat-up junk next to my own pristine one."

He raised a brow. What was she talking about?

Clicking his tongue in annoyance, he pushed her shoulder to the side so he could enter her room. Miraculously, she didn't chew him out for entering without her permission or consent. Instead, she led him over to the black guitar case lying on the ground and pointed at it.

"I've taken a look even though I knew it was unethical but what I found rendered me speechless that such things would happen to a poor instrument."

"The heck are you rambling about?" demanded Jackson, more irked than before. Why did Lillian have to speak like this? "Since you've already opened it before. open it again so I can see what you mean."

She clicked her tongue and bent down.

"Honestly, can you be any more dense?" She opened the zipper and gingerly began to uncover the other guitar. As he saw a flash of thick blue tape on the body Lillian added, "I mean the guitar is broken in a few places that such care and attention is needed when tending to it."

Jackson couldn't help blinking in surprise as Lillian fully removed the casing. There were a couple strings missing there were only five pegs, which meant one was missing. The guitar's body was chipped too, which meant it must have fallen a lot of times.

"Whoa what happened to it?"

He cast Lillian a look and she exclaimed, "I found it like that, all right? Don't pin me down with a suspicious look."

"Okay fine no need to get defensive, geez!" He raised his hands in surrender then planted them on his hips as he surveyed the multiple damages. "Where'd you even get this?"

"I found it when I was fixing my belongings. It seems you must have mistaken this as mine when we went out one day and took it thoughtlessly."

He frowned. "Am I the type to do something so careless like that?"

"Yes. You are." Damn, why'd she have to be so cold like that? "Seeing as this is partly your fault, you're responsible for finding the owner and giving it back to them."

"Oh Lilly be reasonable," sighed Jackson as his sister began to fix the things on her desk. "Would anyone still be looking for something like this? I say the smartest thing we can do is throw it away!"

She paused and turned to him with a glare.

"How tactless can you be?" she said in a higher tone of voice, stepping forward and rising on her tiptoes to try and look intimidating. But since she was shorter, it didn't have that much effect. Still, he got what she wanted to convey. "Despite the guitar having a few damages, it's clear to me this was treasured by the owner. I can't have you throwing it away just because you don't understand how an instrument means to a musician. Find the owner and don't dare discard it."

He spluttered before pointing at her and saying, "You were the one who told me it was junk!"

"Well I changed my mind! I realized this is precious to someone so it's your duty to find the owner."

"Why me and not you? You're obviously more attached to it between the two of us."

"Because I said so. Now begone and prepare dinner!"

With that, she pushed him forcefully by the small of the back, slamming her door closed and the resounding lock echoing through the halls. Jackson curled his hand to a fist and was posed to knock when he sighed and muttered a curse, thinking better of riling up his stuck-up sister even more.

Shooting the door one last look, he went down the stairs and had his mind set on dinner.