The Carriage in the Room

That was where it all began.  Walking through the broken slats of the porch, she was careful not to fall despite her low heels.  Slowly the darkness adjusts to her eyes, and at first, she sees nothing more than a veil of dust, covering each and every part of the room.  Thin strands of sunlight highlight the larger pieces of dust as they fly up and dance in the air around her as she moves.  The long, narrow hallway creates a path to a grand room at the end of it.   But in all its grandeur, the room stands lifeless.  A cavernous emptiness both in feeling and form, with looters having already had their way.

But, in the corner, it remains.   Its' white lace is torn and dirty.  Its' delicate flowy fabric holds in tatters, and yet it stands defiantly, like it knew it had served its purpose well.   She dares not to approach it so soon, and instead creeps around the rest of the room.  Her soft footsteps echo in the silence.  Faded photographs of her parents decorate the walks, but that's where the memories stop.  She has no other recollection of them at all.  Not one thought.

The rest was just a story that folks had told her.  Like a nightmare someone else could claim but not her.   That she had been just a baby asleep in an ornate carriage that night. That she had been loved by her parents.   And then the Great Flood came and they had to escape.  And leave their beautiful home, and that night all of their dreams and memories ceased to exist.  Only she survived, as the orphanage had told her. By some miracle they said, as if she should appreciate their loss of life for her gain.   And there was no other family.  There was no one else at all.  Just her, all alone.

Until now.  She gently touches her stomach, knowing that she had come to share this last memory with her unborn child, and then it would all be forgotten.  That her son would not be so alone, but that he would be heir to a legacy.   She releases the broken carriage from her mind and her heart.  Dusting off her past, she marches out of the abandoned house, leaving to find the family that would make them both whole.