An heiress. That's what I was, and that's what everyone remembered of me. When both my parents died, I had inherited of more money than I really needed, and if I calculated well, I probably could live three or four lives with it... although I admit I was never really good in maths. Still, I had been assured that I would never need to work, and although I knew many persons would envy me, the thought of doing nothing forever was scary. I had decided to takes classes in everything I was interested in, spending my days learning new things and making my brain work.
My parents both died in a plane accident, and sometimes, I wish I had left with them. I wanted to follow them, and I remember being extremely angry when they refused, giving as a pretext that I had to stay home with my private teacher. When I heard what had happened to them, I fell in some sort of trance for days and weeks, and I think I never really got over their accident. How can you get over something as big as losing both your parents at the same time?
It hurt my older brother too, but he remained strong, or little me thought so, and he became my best friend while I became his. We only had each other and our complicity increased with the years, perhaps linked by the same tragedy. He was my rock, my shoulder to cry on, my confident about anything and everything.
Some years after our parents' death, he started working a bad-paid job in a music store. He loved the atmosphere, made friends, and even started a band with some guys he met. He didn't need the job, which made it simply fun and entertaining. I tried to do the same, but always found myself into our personal library, at home, lost in a book I had randomly picked. I didn't talk to many people and I didn't mind. My books were my other best friends, and with Billie, my brother, it made my life feel complete.
My brother saw it otherwise, and from time to time, he left pamphlets on the kitchen's table about a job I could like, or some parties to go. It took months before one caught my attention. A center called 1-800-Help-Me was looking for empatic volunteers ready to spend some of their free time answering calls from teenagers with different problems, helping them and supporting them as they would confide anonymously. The thought of helping others dragged me to read every single word written. My eyes roaming on the bent sheet, I bit my bottom lip in wonder. Would I be good enough to help? Would I be able to find the right words to say to any kind of problems these teenagers may encounter?
Slowly, I got up the large and high stairs of our house, still staring at the sheet in my hands. I needed a second opinion... or a first, since I was not sure yet about the capabilities I had. Mechanically, I knocked at the door and waited for my brother's approval. This was the new habit I had taken after surprising my brother with some redhead chick doing stuff he shouldn't have.
"Get in!"
When I opened the door, I saw him laying on his bed, his hands under his head, and his feet crossed. Some video of a punk-rock song was screaming loudly on the tv screen and the lights were all off. I walked up to him as he sent me a large smile. No matter what he was doing, Billie would always stop everything happily if I asked him to. He was there for the goods and the bads of my life, and i knew in the little things he did for me how much he cared, and that I meant to him just as much as he meant to me. We were the only family left we had, or almost, and if one of us disappeared, I have no idea how the other would survive.
He sat up, tapping softly the part of the cover next to him and I immediately took place beside him before to extend him the paper. I knew he would recognize it, since he was the one leaving it on the kitchen's counter, and that's why I didn't say anything. All I dared to do was look up into his eyes and he read it through me.
"You'll be good." he promised. "You have a natural talent to help others. You don't get paid, I know, but you don't seriously need it."
I breathed in, keeping the lukewarm air inside of my lungs for a while as I licked my lips in wonder. I would trust Billie with my life, and I knew it was worth a try, but I wanted to be sure he'd support me, and not be disappointed in me if I ever decided to quit.
"And if you don't like it, you can always leave." he shrugged as if he had read my mind and that it was the most common thing in the world.
My lips curled on the right and I grabbed his hand, squeezing his warm fingers tight in-between my cold hand. Sweetly, he placed a soft kiss on the top of my head and smiled to me.
"You can borrow my car to get there, tomorrow night." he proposed as I realized I had not spoken a word to him yet. "But right now, I think you need a rest."
I would normally grimace at anyone who wanted to take control of my life and decide for me, but at this point, I liked that he took care of me the way a big brother always should.
"I love you." I said, letting go of his hand before to walk until the door.
I turned around and he smiled sincerely at me.
"I love you too, little sister."
And the next day, I was pushing the door of the agency and quickly filled out a form with basic information before someone brought me to the central room. All the brownish wood desks were aligned, separated only with some sort of screen. The chairs were large and matched the tables. Weirdly, they seemed extremely comfortable. The only accessory available was a phone waiting on the small tables.
The lady that had welcomed me was overjoyed, yet extremely sweet. Her blond hair stuck in a tight ponytail and her black glasses made her look serious, but the coziness of her clothes told otherwise.
"Thanks a lot for coming, we always need volunteers." she repeated, a large smile illuminating her soft face. "I'll tell George to bring you a coffee."
She walked to an empty desk still smiling and motioned for me to sit down which I did without a word.
"When the phone rings, you click on this button." she said, pointing the biggest of the bunch. "And then on the one next to the red light. You can keep the headphones on your head at all times."
I nodded carefully and she looked around, wondering what else she could tell me.
"There's a buffet in the corner if you're hungry." she added. "Oh yea, and I'll go get your coffee."
I thanked her with a simple smile and she left quickly as I turned to the phone, putting slowly the headphone on. I took a big breath and let it out, nervous but ready to start working. The excitement and my urge will to help was fighting with the stress invading my insides. I was ready, I knew it.
The cute blond came back only a minute later with a cup of burning hot coffee, placing it on the table in front of me.
"You can answer with you name, or not. As long as you tell them you're here to help them." she kept going.
"Thank you." I almost whispered.
"No, thank to you." she grinned. "And good luck! I'm here if you need anything."
I nodded as she left and stared at the smoke coming out of my warm beverage. I was waiting for my first call, my first lonely soul, but I didn't wait very long. Taking a sip of the coffee and burning my tongue at the same time, I did as I was told and answered my very first call. The call that changed my life.
