Nicole hardly ever cried when she was young. I remember the first time her cry ever pierced the silence of our home. They say that baby's cries are sexless, but not hers. Her femininity was very noticeable even at this age. Her voice was of an angel's as she cried out in hunger. Its echo filled my soul with fascination and her cry made me want to hold her close and never let go.
Her voice was so pleading as if she were saying, "Let me live! I must survive!"
Her cries stopped when I picked her up from her cradle and held her close... So beautiful... So perfect... How could he have treated her this way? And why?
These thoughts were locked away in the confines of my mind as she began to nurse. Her eyes were locked on me as I cleaned her face of milk. I smiled as her stare filled with curiosity and puzzlement. Her gaze soon wandered from me to the roaring fire that was made the room dance with shadows.
She stared at the many shadows, reaching out to try and touch them as the light made them flicker. She was an angel; her skin was soft and pure, white as fresh fallen snow. There was something peculiar about her though. Her hair was as white as her skin and her eyes were a deep red as they glimmered in the firelight. I had heard of people that were like this... Albinos, very rare... A treasure... Maybe my husband, though drunk was fearful of her being different... Maybe he knew... I was puzzled though by the fact that albinism did not run in my family nor my husbands. I knew though this would serve a problem in the near future. People feared people who were different. Calling them an assortment of names, shunning, fearing and mocking them because of the difference. The world is so cruel...
"God has plans for you. You are special, my perfect little angel." I whispered. The sound of my voice drew her eyes instantly back on me.
Although she was young, I knew that she was unique. Not only the fact that she was albino, but... Her voice... Angelic and melodic, she was unique from head to toe...
I knew I must protect her from my husband... Now more than ever for I have been given word that my husband now goes out drinking more and more each night; I fear what I might find when he returns. Nicole's eyes were still filled with the fear that had been bestowed upon her by my husband. It would forever linger... But was hidden at times by her immense curiosity.
Darkness began to consume to light from the outside of our home. I hurried my daughter to the attic and laid her in her crib. The attic was the only room in this infernal house that my husband never entered. It was a little drafty so I brought up extra blankets for Nicole before locking her in for the night.
I hated to lock her in alone in her room so I had the local carpenter craft a small stringed instrument, so to speak, for my sweet Nicole. It was very simple and it made a lovely sound. I was a small wooden box with about six levers on the side, it looked much like a miniature piano, and if you tapped one of the little levers, a small concealed hammer would strike a string inside the little box and a lovely note would be played. I thought that she would enjoy it and it would distract her from her loneliness.
Her first toy... I never knew what lay in store for me though the night when she discovered its secrets.
This night wouldn't be so magical and wondrous; this night would be one of remorse.
My husband arrived about ten minutes after I locked Nicole in the attic for the night. His breath reeked with alcohol as he staggered into the kitchen.
"Where the bloody hell is my supper you whore!" he exclaimed.
I became shocked as he began to use such foul language and wave his hands around in the air like an enraged bear... If I wasn't so terrified, I would have died out in laughter at the sight of a grown man acting as though he were a zoo animal.
"WHERE IS IT!" he exclaimed grabbing my shoulders and slinging me into the floor.
My side began to throb from the impact and my head ached for he had thrown me into one of the cabinets. As I staggered to my feet, I pointed to a plate of food I had saved for him that lay on the table. This seemed to satisfy him and before long he was asleep in his plate. I helped him to his feet and laid him down on the couch as he began to mutter something. He drifted back off to sleep as I covered him with a blanket from the closet. When I knew he was asleep, I went to check on my daughter.
I climbed the stairs in shear agony, trying not wake my husband with my groans and shrieks. As I reached the top of the stairs, I heard a murmur coming from inside Nicole's room. It was not of her cries as I expected, but instead of a song... A melody being played... I heard her hit the small levers of her little piano repeatedly, sending notes flying across the room. She wouldn't just strike random levers and making a jumbled mess like I expected, instead she played them in repetition as if she were composing a song. As she finished, I heard her laugh for the first time. The sound of her voice filled my soul with intrigue and utter awe.
Only a month old... and her brilliance already glimmers like the North Star.
I opened her door slowly and then quickly shut it behind me, locking it. I was not going to take any chances.
I walked slowly over to her cradle to see her red eyes gleaming with delight. I began to smile as she extended her fragile snow-white arms to strike the levers again.
I became enthralled as her song flutter around the room, filling my heart with curiosity... So young... How? I then noticed that she was playing the exact same melody I had heard not but a moment ago from the door.
"You're full of surprises aren't you?" I breathed as she finished once more and began to seek any sign of approval in my eyes.
I picked her up from her crib and rocked her gently for a few moments before she drifted of to sleep. I lay her gently back into her crib and silently, crept out of her room, locking the door once more as I left.
I went back downstairs to find my husband to my relief as I had left him, unconscious on our couch, his snoring echoing throughout the dim living room. I then went to my bedroom, locking the door behind me as well, to sleep and recover.
I would have my father install a staircase in here so I may check on Nicole if this should ever happen again without waking my drunken husband. I would have to keep it hidden from him so he may not try to harm her if he should ever be locked in the bedroom alone in his drunken state...
If I only knew what I was in store for when I awoke.
God help us...
