“Precious little child, where are you?” Mother asked as she roamed the small garden in pursuit. I could see her moving about from where I stood. She hid her temper and feigned her cool but I knew what really lurked beneath that sugary smile of hers.

“Niel~” she sang it like a song, my name, the one she gave me on the day I was brought into this world, kicking and screaming; she sang it like a lullaby, a song of sleep, a song of silence.

I could see her edging closer, her stance the resonance of pure agitation. I could tell that she was angered by the search, the search for me. I could tell that she was annoyed by my stealth as I hid craftily.  I stayed where I stood, behind the door of the old shed. It was a forbidden place, a forbidden shed. But I stood there; that is where I stood. Mother was in pursuit so that is where I stayed.

It had been a short day; yet so long for it had yet to end. I had played in my room, and the guests had their tea. It had always been that way, as far as I had known. Downstairs was prohibited, upstairs was my home. So I stayed up there, on my allocated floor.  Disallowed to play loudly, as taboo was the noise.

I kept to myself. I played mutedly. I never made noise and I did as was instructed me. 

That was my life...