Short stories!

The Girl Inside His Mind

Marie lived in a small city in France during the 18th-century revolution. Every morning she'd go to the nearby bakery, Boulangerie Rouge, and read all the stories she could find, full of fascinating tales. Her beloved bakery was a block down from the small two-story home she lived in, shed sit outside and feel the wind brush against her pale, white cheek as she took small bites from her sweet breakfast.

In 1792, the revolution began. Everything changed and Marie wasn't allowed out of the house, shops closed, she moved into the attic, along with all their leftover food, to keep her safe. Weeks after it started, Mama went to help the nurses at the hospital in the next city over and came back every three days to care for Marie. And soon after, Papa left to help the soldiers fight the monarchs.

Marie sat waiting, peeking out of the window every so often and sometimes when no one was in the streets, she'd watch the rain drip down the clear windows, illuminated by nothing but the pale moon and bright night stars. Marie would duck below the window and remain as silent as she could when the deep barks of men's voices echoed through the streets. But when she heard the front door open, there was nothing she could do.

The night mama got home, she found Marie lying on the attic floor cold and lifeless.

Mama never heard from her husband again.

It's cold... I want to get up... I can't move. It's dark. I want to be with Mama and Papa. Papa... where's papa? I only hear Mama... Marie knew what had happened. She couldn't move or hear papa at all. Don't go, Mama... She heard her mother's footsteps fading and muffled cries and whimpers. Don't cry Mama, Papa will be home soon and you can be happy.

Marie woke in a new home in the year 1850. This new home was filled with books and servants bustling around in the early morning. She was still the same nine-year-old girl, wearing the old nightgown, covered in dirt that she wore that night the men came. She walked around the house, trying to catch the attention of a servant and ask where she was but no one acknowledged her. Except for Nicoli. When he woke up, he walked out into the corridor still in his perfectly clean sleeping wear.

"Hanna! Wheres my Morning tea!?" He was demanding and bratty; a typical wealthy child Marie knew all too well. He turned to her. "Who are you?" He wasn't any less demanding when asking.

"I'm Marie, where am I? And who are you?" She replied matching his confidence, although, to her, she didn't match it at all.

"You are in my mansion, how did you get in?"

"I woke up here."

"What? That impossible, Hanna would never let in someone like you." He stared at her waiting for a response, and when none came, he turned around and started walking away. "Hanna start my bath! And where's my tea!?" He turned back around making eye contact with Marie. After a few seconds, he said gently, a way of speaking she wasn't used to except from her mother. "And get some for our guest as well," Marie mumbled a small thank you that he couldn't hear but knew she said.

Despite her confusion, she nodded and made it anyway and set the two glass teacups on the coffee table in the library. "Come." Marie obeyed Nicoli and sat next to him as if she was a loyal dog waiting for another command. She didn't touch the cup, only stared. "The tea should be cool enough by now. It's yours if you want it." Hanna observed her young master and how he talked to himself as if talking to another child his age.

"Thank you," she said again a little louder than before.

"Where are you from?"

"I lived in a small city in France until the men took me away."