7. Kayo – Doll

Kayo Kyrano prided herself on her ability to look forward, not back. She had a tragic past. This was not something she could deny. But, nor was it something she wanted to labour upon. Yes, her parents were dead. Yes, she had lost everything. Yes, she had been taken away by her uncle and suffered under his iron rod for several years before she managed to escape.

But she didn't like to think about it. It was all too easy to get lost in the dark corners of her mind, thinking about wrongs done and things she wished she'd said – or hit.

Life was better now. Life had been better for many years, ever since the fateful day when Lucille Tracy had taken one look at her and told her husband they were adopting a daughter. Jeff hadn't been given the opportunity to object but even if he had, he wouldn't have done so. They had five boys. They had always wanted a girl. They had the money and the means, and the child was clearly in need of a good home. And so, things went the way they did.

Sadly, Kayo hadn't been graced with a mother for too long. Within three years, Lucille had passed away. But what would never die was Kayo's loyalty to her second mother – and her second father.

The first day she had officially been released from the orphanage and into the Tracys' care, they had taken her to a toy store.

"There's a lot of stuff in the house," Lucille had said, gripping her nine-year-old daughter's hand, "but I want you to pick two of three things that are just for you."

Browsing the shelves was like being given a cornucopia. Kayo had spent nearly an hour browsing the wares, very carefully making her choices.

She chose a football – or a soccer ball as they said in the States – and a jump rope, and, best of all, a doll. Not just any doll. Her doll.

It had been years since Kayo had owned a doll. This one was soft, with wool hair and a little plastic nose. And she had looked so forlorn as it disappeared into the bag that Lucille had lifted it out straight away. And together, they had walked out, Lucille holding onto Kayo, Kayo holding onto the doll, and finally, they went home.

Years on, Kayo still mourned the loss of her second mother. She didn't like to look back. She prided herself on looking forward. But every day, when she adjusted the doll into pride of place on her bed, Kayo didn't mind looking back, just for a bit.

Some things don't need to be remembered. Some people can be left behind. But with others, it's different.

Some people should never be forgotten.