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Nicole Cavalier
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Shop helper, former pickpocket
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[align=center]EMPTY AND LOST[/align]
[align=right]7-th of October 1719[/align]

I am back from the funerals and I have to start packing. I feel empty and lost without Maman and Papa, I canít stop cryingÖ or, rather, I do stop from time to time but the tears stream again. I found this notebook which has some blank pages, and I am writing in it, just to feel closer to Papa, whom I have loved a lot.

Why them? Why this damn hurricane hitting us? Why the roof had to fall on both of them, while I wasnít there? I am angry on myself for having deserted them. I should have not left them alone in the room right then, no matter what.

I canít understand how life ends abruptly, how I was with them a few minutes before the tree fell, and now I am alone, having left them in the cold cemetery, facing the shame of a collective burial. They arenít alone in a tomb, how a married couple would deserve; they share it with two other neighbours who had nobody left behind to pay for their funeral.

Pere Dominique said that it was Godís hand over me, and that Papa isnít suffering anymore. This is true, he had been crippled for so many years, with his health continuously deteriorating. Everything I have done I have done for him. For getting food and medicine. God knows it.

I had a long discussion with Pere Dominique both before and after the funeral. I still owe him money after having given him everything I had. He found the cheapest solution for us all.

He said he knows people who can find someone to buy my house, with all its debts and how damaged it is. It seems there are people who repair old homes with potential of renovation and resell or rent them at good prices.

On one side, this would solve my debt-related and maintenance-related problems, but, on the other side, this is the only house I have ever had here in Port de Paix. It shows that I belong somewhere, I am not a snail with my house on my back, neither the street rat I have been sometimes. At least, then I knew why I was doing it and that there were two people who depended on me and to whom I had to return home. What would happen with me now?

I am scared. Terribly scared. I still canít fathom a whole life ahead, without Maman and Papa. I am alone in the world, and I am going to lose my home too. Would I end in the streets for good? Yes, I will have, for a start, some money to rent a small room somewhere, but what when the savings are gone? I think I have to manage well the little amount of money I am going to remain with after I sell the house and pay the debtsÖ

I have to pack first, to try to sleep then, and maybe Iíll find, with Godís help, whatís best for me, because I donít know anymore. And I have to stop writing too, as the candle is ending and I have no other.
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A Dream Worth Keeping · Message in a bottle