Photography was Laura’s first love, and she was hired to photograph a group of school students one day when she met a little girl who seemed to hold secrets in her eyes. When Laura approached her, the girl’s wounded fingers sent chills down her spine. Laura sighed as she glanced at the photographs on her study room wall: the sunrise in the Sahara Desert, the neoclassical architectural styles of Athens, and Zurich’s ethereal beauty. Her pictures were her identity, her passion. When Laura first married her husband, he was so in love with her art and interests. He kept telling her how she deserved to be a successful photographer one day and needed to focus on her career, but years later, things changed. Now, Laura’s passion was nothing more than a pastime for Roger.
“Passion doesn’t pay bills, Laura. If you want to support us, you need to go out and make a living,” he would remind her.
Laura tried; she worked at a small private firm for a month but couldn’t keep up. It wasn’t her calling; it wasn’t photography, nor was it capturing the serene aspects of nature surrounding her. So, Laura left the firm job and began accepting photography gigs for weddings and other social events. Time ticked by, and Laura’s passion for photography never dissipated, but at times like this, when the wine started to kick in, she reasoned that Roger wasn’t all wrong. She loved what she did, but it hadn’t made her wealthy or famous. Was there a point in pursuing something that wouldn’t bring you recognition or money?
“Yes, there is a point,” a voice inside Laura’s heart said. “There’s a reason why you’re doing it, and you must not stop, at least not now.”
So, brushing aside her worries for the millionth time since Roger stopped appreciating her talent, Laura returned to her laptop and resumed applying for part-time photography jobs. One job advertisement Laura came across that night was for photographing a group of school students.
“While I’ve never done something like this, it might be fun,” she thought.
Laura uploaded her portfolio and all the required information, and the next morning, she received an email that she would need to visit the school the following Thursday. She wanted to tell Roger she was going to take pictures of school kids, something she’d never done before, but she didn’t. The following Thursday, Laura packed all her photography equipment, hopped in her car, and fed the school’s address into her GPS. As she grabbed the steering wheel, the loud chattering of squeaky voices and the gentle breeze right outside the school gates made her smile as she parked her car and got out. It had been years since she’d been around kids. Laura approached the receptionist and informed her that she was there for the class photographs. The woman directed her to a hall and asked her to wait.
“Alright, thank you,” Laura told her with a smile before the woman walked away.
Then, she took a look around the massive auditorium. The receptionist had said the students would arrive shortly, so Laura began setting up her camera and adjusting the lighting to ensure the pictures were flawless. As she looked into the camera for a test shot, she noticed a little girl, no older than 10, walking into the hall and taking a spot on the bench arranged for the photoshoot. The girl raised her head to look at Laura but said nothing.
“Are you okay?” Laura asked as she approached the girl who was staring into her lap.
Laura crouched down to face the girl, and her smile faded when her gaze was fixed on the girl’s fingers. There were fresh, dark bruises and cut marks on them. The girl hastily hid her fingers in her jacket pockets when she noticed Laura staring. Shocked and unable to comprehend how a young girl’s fingers could have been hurt like that, Laura blurted out, “Who harmed you? I mean, what’s wrong? Is there anything you’d like to tell me?”
Ally shook her head, but Laura saw anxiety and pain in the little girl’s eyes. When Ally slowly removed her hands from her pocket, Laura’s eyes teared up. It was not just the girl’s fingers that were bruised; her palms bore scratch marks too. Before Ally could respond, a stream of students and teachers poured into the auditorium, prompting Laura to return to her camera. Her heart, however, was still racing; she knew it wouldn’t calm down until she found out what was wrong with Ally. Ally was stunning; her golden curls and blue eyes made her look like a Barbie. She was so pretty that Laura imagined her as a model for one of her portraits, but why were Ally’s eyes so depressed? A little girl like her should have been bubbly and chirpy. A lot of kids were also camera-shy and insecure in front of the lens, but Laura knew that wasn’t the case with Ally. The little girl was deeply anxious and terrified about something. Laura knew it wasn’t right to pry into the personal affairs of a girl she’d only met minutes ago, but she was determined to help Ally if she was in trouble.
Laura wanted to meet Ally’s teacher and ask if everything was okay with the little girl, but she was so preoccupied with the photoshoot that she couldn’t. On her drive back home, Laura couldn’t get Ally off her mind. She wished she could tell Roger about her, but there was no point; he would brush it off as something created by her overthinking mind. The next evening, Laura was in a park with her camera, capturing nature and the mothers and children playing around her. Once she was done, she strolled to an underground passage which connected it to the city’s main thoroughfare. As she walked out of the passage, a sweet voice and the sounds of someone playing the guitar rhythmically caught Laura’s attention.
“Who is that?” she wondered.
When Laura peeked into the passage, she saw it was Ally. The little girl wore a floral dress and was strumming the guitar. Laura waved to her, and Ally looked up, then Laura’s phone started ringing, and while she was busy checking it, Ally just disappeared. Laura searched the entire place but couldn’t find her. Was it all in her mind? Was she hallucinating? No, that wasn’t possible; Ally had dropped her guitar pick in a hurry, and Laura had found it. Laura was suddenly worried about Ally again. She could sense something was wrong with the girl, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was.
“Only one way to know,” she decided.
She was going to meet Ally again, and she would do it very soon. The next morning, Laura drove to Ally’s school and told her class teacher she needed to take some shots of just Ally because their photographs hadn’t turned out right. When they were alone, Laura noticed new bruises on Ally’s palms. This time, she would find out what was wrong with her.
“Miss Laura, are you done? If yes, may I take Ally back to class now?” Ally’s class teacher walked into the room. “We’re all waiting for her; we need to start the lesson.”
“Oh yes, yes, please,” she replied with a forced smile, and Ally was gone.
Laura had lost yet another opportunity to solve the mystery of the bruises on Ally’s hands. As she walked back to her car, a weird anxiety gripped Laura’s heart. What if she couldn’t save Ally from her miserable life? Out of that fear, an insane but helpful idea popped into her mind. Laura waited for Ally’s lessons to end, and when she saw the girl leaving, she decided to follow her. She saw Ally enter a small but cozy house with wide picket fences in a lovely garden. Laura remained in her car, thinking about what to do next. Suddenly, she saw Ally emerge from the house wearing old denim overalls and holding scissors, then marching to the garden and pruning the rose bushes. Ally wasn’t wearing gloves, which made Laura realize how she got those marks and bruises. Ally scratched herself due to the rose thorns, and just brushed it off as if it didn’t hurt her, and continued with the pruning. It was then that Laura got down from her car and decided to talk to Ally. Why was a 10-year-old like her working in the garden right after returning from school? Were there no adults at home? Ally looked up at her briefly, then back at the roses.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her eyes fixed on the roses as she pruned them.
“Can I help you?” Laura asked.
“You’re hurt, because nobody wants to help me; they all call me bad things,” Ally said as she stopped pruning.
“Bad things?”
Ally nodded. “Everyone at school makes fun of me; they don’t want to be my friends.”
“Well, I guess I can be your friend then,” Laura said brightly.
At that point, Ally couldn’t contain her tears; she began to cry. She shared her heartbreaking story with Laura, and before she knew it, Laura was crying too. Ally’s parents had died years ago in a fateful accident. She was raised by her grandparents and, unfortunately, lost her grandma a year ago. Her grandpa was reeling over her grandma’s death, and he wasn’t in the best of health; he’d had a stroke and was now bedridden. Ally was only 10 years old, but she was wise enough to comprehend that she would be placed in foster care if her grandpa didn’t recover quickly. The pink, red, and yellow roses reminded Ally’s grandpa of his late wife and comforted him that his late wife was still with him in his heart. When the flowers began withering and no one cared for them, Ally had to take charge because her grandpa’s health was worsening. Ally was afraid of losing him, so she tended to the roses in their garden, which were planted by her late granny, and gave her grandpa the strength to recover soon.
“Have you been taking care of yourself on your own?” Laura asked Ally as she performed the girl’s first aid.
Ally nodded. “I know how to cook,” she said, “and I found Granny’s old instruction book; she wrote down rules about how to look after her plants.”
“What do you want to become when you grow up, Ally?”
“A singer. You play that guitar, don’t you?” Laura asked with a smile. “Here, I found your guitar pick,” she said, returning it to Ally, “you dropped it the other day.”
“Thank you,” Ally said. “Music helps me; I don’t get bad dreams, and I don’t cry when I play the guitar. I also play for Grandpa, and it helps him sleep. If I don’t play the guitar, I get very sad and lonely, Laura; I think of bad things too.”
Laura held Ally close and said, “You’re gonna be okay, Ally. I’ll help you; all right? Everything is going to be just fine.”
Laura realized Ally was depressed; the grief of losing her parents and grandmother hadn’t gone down well with her. So, Laura decided to help Ally and her grandpa. She began visiting them often, spending weekends with them and tending to their garden. Laura also took Ally to a therapist to help the little girl heal. Then, one day, a brilliant idea came to Laura’s mind; she decided to host an exhibition of the photographs she’d taken in Ally’s garden and invited Ally to sing at the event’s opening. During the exhibition, Laura’s shots drew the attention of a wealthy businessman, and he offered her a $70,000 contract to shoot at his mansion’s massive garden. Laura was over the moon, and that’s where things only started to get better for Laura and Ally. Ally’s singing teacher was moved by her lovely voice and offered her the opportunity to record songs for their school performance. Ten years from that day, Ally still can’t get enough of thanking Laura. She’s now a successful singer, and her grandfather, who’s much healthier, attends all of her concerts. In some ways, Laura and Ally helped each other grow and heal; while Laura went on to make her passion her profession and slapped Roger’s taunts with her success, Ally could step out of the pain she’d been living in since losing her parents and become a successful singer.
