All But Her Strings

The Whiskey began to work its way into her mother's system as she started to fall to the damp, stone floor.
"Mum? Mum, wake up." Laela whispered loudly, shaking her slightly.
"It's alrwigh' darlin'... I just need some res..." She murmered, slipping away to sleep.
Laela sat in the dark, thinking to herself calmly...
"Where's my guitar gone?!" She jumped up when she realised it wasn't with her. Something inside her told her that she needed it. She couldn't focus anymore, all she could think of was the fierce need to get it back.
She could ask the sheriff, but the memories she has of him scared her away.
'I'm sure if I was extra quiet I could search around his home for it...'
That was it. She was going to try get out of this cellar and find her mysterious guitar. Although she still didn't understand why something told her she needed it.

She stood up and began to climb the stairs the drunken sheriff had thrown her down, with each step, the mildewy stairs creaked quietly. Reaching the door, she turned the handle. It was locked.
'I should have known. He may be a drunk but he's not a total idiot...' She thought to herself, pondering on how to get out.
"There has to be a key somewhere. Or something that can get me out of here...' She thought, jogging down the stairs and futher into the black cellar. With her arms outstretched, she could feel many, many barrels filling up the cellar, possibly filled with Whiskey, it seemed to be very popular in this town...
After avoiding the barrels she soon found a wall. It was sticky with mildew and smelt like aged liqueur.
Feeling upwards with her hands she felt what appeared to be a shelf; wooden and sticking outwards, then running her hands along the top, after brushing past a few empty bottles, she found a shard of metal. It was thin and long, and from what she could see in the very, very dim light available, it looked as though it had broken off some form of dagger.
'I could possibly use this as a lock pick...' She thought, praying.
After dodging her way through barrels, she made it back to the empty space where her mother lay, passed out, and started walking back up the stairs.
As she reached the door, she heard a voice, somewhere on the other side.
It was the sweet, accented voice of the humble farm boy, Louis St Louis. Picturing his face, she started almost craving him. How had she allowed herself to fall for this boy after such a short amount of time...? Oh, the images she created, the thoughts of what they could do. She felt her fluttering heart jump at the thought of these possibilities astounding.
"Da'? Ya' goin' with the Sherrif?" The perfect voice said.
"Ye' he is. Now you stay here, watch the house fer' me, sonny." The sherriff's cruel voice replied.
"What are they doin' 'bout them no goods?" Louis said.
"Dunno, sonny, we'll work it out, when we bust 'em." His dad replied out of no where.
"We better get goin' Ted. Don't want no whiskey runners gettin' away like that little girlie down there..." The Sheriff laughed although the other two became awkwardly silent.
Laela listened as the footsteps became silent and she heard the slight creak of the screen door close.