You’ll Always Be Our Little Goddess

Most kids my age love vacation. In my place, I hate it. Literally!

In my place, the first impression you’re going to get is fascination. Who wouldn’t? Our house overlooks a cliff with an amazing view during sunrise, because our house faces east. You’ll see the waves of the sea, the clouds, and the shore. I like the view better from up here than when I’m down there with other people who came for a swim. When I’m up here, I don’t feel like I’m in level with them. I feel like a goddess.

“A little goddess, that’s what you are.”, that’s what my nursemaid Rachel always told me whenever I said I feel like a goddess standing by the cliff, watching, watching. She would pinch one of my cheeks, and kiss the part she had pinch and would always add, “You’ll always be our little goddess.”

Back when I was younger, after she gave me a compliment, she murmured, “She must be so proud of you.”

When I asked her who was the “she” she was referring to, she quickly told me to never mind. I didn’t ask further. I can see in her eyes how she was scared to discuss anything about it. I knew what her eyes say. I’ve known her since  I can remember. She was almost a mother to me.

My real mother… Umm, honestly, I know nothing about her. I grew up without her around. I’ve never seen any of her pictures. I don’t even think there are some left. I don’t bother looking for them. I lost hope of ever finding a single one. My father changes the topic every time I  asked back then, about my mother.

Who is she?

What does  she look like?

What’s her name?

What kind of woman is she?

Where is she?

“She’s dead! Damn it! She’s dead!”, my father  snarled at me when I asked years ago. “Are you satisfied?” He was doing some work on his computer, then, trying to look busy. Like he has no time to answer any questions about the woman he’s trying to hide from me. “Go away, will you? Let me work here.”

Asking the housemaids was no help. They just shook their heads. “I was told she died giving birth to you.”, our gardener told me.

“Don’t tell anyone I told you this – and don’t get hurt – the rumors said she went away with another man when you were just a baby.”, said our nosy laundry lady.

“She suddenly vanished from this house… Uh, I don’t really know much about it.”, the kitchen cook said.

So I stopped searching. You can’t find someone you’re looking for if the world is hiding her from you. Not just from your sight, but from your ears, from your heart.

By the way, my name’s Klara. with a K.

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