I don't remember much about my mother. I was young when she went away, stolen from us forever.
I remember her eyes: blue like mine. And her voice. I remember her voice perfectly. Dad says she was a singer and a beautiful one. Her voice sounded like bells when she laughed. When she sang, it was the most perfect thing ever.
Before she died, she always sang to me at night. A lullaby she made just for me. She's been gone for over ten years, but I still remember that lullaby and her voice singing it.
I hum it to myself every night, dreaming of mom's blue eyes and our lullaby.