Subject:  I Remember Sarah - Chapter 1 |
Author:
Loveroy
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Date Posted: Friday, July 22, 12:03:10am
In reply to:
Loveroy
's message, "I Remember Sarah" on Thursday, July 21, 11:18:00pm
In the attic of the fabulous mansion in the outskirts of Paris a 25-year-old Nikita Wirth, her wheat color hair tied in a slipshod knot, cried despondently over lost loves while sitting behind boxes of Christmas decorations. She was so torn, so melancholy and so completely mournful that she was sure she could not go on living unless she got a hold of her broken heart. Her most plaintive loss was that of her friend Sarah Dion, a woman who had been Nikita’s sole relation and the only reason the blonde beauty survived her adolescence.
Finding consolation in recalled memories, she watched through the skylights above her the heavens rush by. Puffy clouds of the wintry day became the starlit night Nikita dreaded for it meant that time did march on in spite of human loss. The woman lay motionless now on the sofa oblivious to the freezing breeze escaping from the air conditioning vent pointed towards her. Her eyes roamed pensively over each inch of the space before her, pausing only to recall some long forgotten detail of her past.
She spied propped against a far wall a memory book from happier times, replete with faded photographs that encompassed her recollections and told the story of the portion of her life spent in this place. Nikita moved quickly towards the album and sat on the floor propping her back against the wall, getting as comfortable as possible to start flipping through her past. With eyes full of tears the beautiful woman began to leaf through the scrapbook and subsequently skimmed through her surprisingly full life. She would smile full of emotion every once in a while as she paused at a particular photo or caressed a distinctive bit of history which brought her face to face with her past.
Nikita flipped contently through the sand color album pages and stroked the worn feel of the scrap of cloth that reminded her of a trip long forgotten. She laughed out loud at the sight of a toothpick topped by a colorful umbrella and cried just as openly at discovering a ‘dear john’ birthday card. Her life lay open before her when in fact, she was not ready to face her past, consider her present or even dream about her future.
Her best girlfriend Sarah always said, “Don’t confuse sadness with emotion Nikita,” And Nikita was doing just that with her jumbled soul. Even now, 9 years since first arriving at the beautiful home, Nikita still found comfort in the seclusion of the homey attic and thus the main reason she hid there now. The stairs leading to the expansive room was long ago blocked by a hatbox full of Byronic bonnets purposely placed at the door to warn of incoming trespassers.
At night way back then, when the house was asleep, Nikita would leave her hiding place and do what needed done to survive. Nikita lived happily behind the row of boxes, covered forgotten portraits and antique furniture not being used in the house. The months spent within those 4 walls added to the most poignant years in the woman’s life and now she was surrounded by her past and facing suddenly a tenuous future.
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