Masked Love

I remember it being quiet. The streets that were once filled with chaos and laughter were quiet. Even though I was only five, I noticed this strange occurrence. I was walking down the road with my mother. I think she was crying. Everything’s a blur.

“Nicola,” my mother’s voice was soft. “We’re going far away. Papa is not coming with us ok?” I don’t remember her saying anything else as she handed me my doll and we got into the carriage.

“Nikki!” I turned around and there he was. A small boy with dark brown curls and the bluest eyes. He lived in the manor next to ours and we played all the time. Whether it was down by the creek that ran between our lands or in the kitchen next to my adoring mother, we always had an adventure.
I remember calling his name and running to him.

“Nikki let’s play now,” he shouted, grabbing my small hand in an attempt to pull me away from the carriage.

“Nicola!” my mother’s voice was urgent. I knew something was wrong but being so young I didn’t understand why it was so important. Being an obedient child I walked back to my mother, but I was sad to leave my best friend.

“Where are you going?” Tears welled up in his little blue eyes.

“I don’t know,” I looked up at my mother’s pain stricken face curiously and was suddenly scared. Where was I going? How long was I going to be away? Where was Papa?....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That small face still appears in my dreams. Is it possible to fall in love with a memory? He was so small then. What does he look like now? Would he remember me?
I don’t even remember me. Who was I then. Shadows of my past appear to me in dreams. Little clips of my former life before I moved to France. Before I was a servant. Before I was alone...Who was I?