10... 9... 8...

He looked at me and told me I'd never get back. It was the beginning of the year, January, and that I wouldn't see it until December and that I should kiss it goodbye forever because there was no way he'd let me have the one thing that made me happy. The one thing that truly brought me all the laughs and smiles that I could ever want, simply because it was my only friend. The one thing that would sit across from me during tea parties, and giggle with me until I could giggle no more. The one thing that laid beside me during those terrifying nights when mum wanted to have some alone time. The one thing that I'll always remember as my favorite childhood toy.

7... 6... 5...

He knew exactly what he was doing when he took it, but I suppose I deserved it for getting him in trouble for the umpteenth time. That's how it always happened when we were kids. We would run around the hotel enjoying each other's company, but as soon as I mistakenly broke something, I'd blame it on him. Nikkolas, my cousin, was never a big fan of being blamed for things he didn't do. But when I was a kid, just a few tears would convince my mother that maybe it wasn't me at all. Maybe it was the big cousin who somehow tried to get me to confess only to cover up his tracks. There were lots of times when this happen, but this was the one time that I just knew I'd regret it.

A guest of the hotel complained about kids being in their room, and instead of telling my mother that it was only me in the room looking for things to play with, I lead them to believe it was him, my cousin. They believed me because the tears seemed real, and they were, but Nikkolas knew otherwise. When they grounded him and sent us both to our rooms, I could sense him following me. He was so angry that I had messed up his chances of having a fun weekend, that as soon as I opened my door, he ran towards my doll and took her.

4.. 3... 2...

She was my heart.

She was my only friend at the time, so the loss of her would have killed me. As I whined and complained, begging for him to give her back to me while watching him hold her above my head, he stared at me with a rather cold expression, causing me to realize that maybe, just maybe that'd be the last time I'd see her. That's just not something you do to a then five-year-old, but since he was older than me and no one from the outside world who may have cared for the tears, he just knew he had to get me back as much as possible. As I jumped up and down trying to reach her, he told me to promise I'd tell m mother and his dad the truth, but I couldn't.

I was a brat then, and the last thing I wanted was to not get my way before having to do something for someone else. I hated it. Despised it even. But when you were a kid, you thought nothing of it. You figure a little crying would get you a long way, but at that moment, it did nothing for me. I cried to him telling him to give her back, but instead of doing so, he left the room.


That was the first time I've ever experienced loss and loneliness, and to this day, it's that one moment that always flashes in my mind even when I experience such things now.

I laid in bed crying for hours for not having her there, but eventually got over it when he came back and gave her to me. I never understood why he did it, but it made me happy because that night was the one night that I truly needed her. It thunder stormed, and instead of being able to sleep with my mom, I was able to sleep beside her.

Cinderella is what I called her, but she didn't look like Cinderella at all. It was such an odd name to give to her, but since it was my favorite story at the time, it was the name that fit perfectly.

She was my first cabbage patch doll, my first friend, and my first loss.

And although I got her back, she helped me realize that although something is gone, it'll never be forgotten.