Bridget

Little Bridget looked up at a man with the darkest eyes and messy black hair. The tall stranger looked at her with a pleasant smile, somewhat shocked at the unexpected visit. "And who might you be?" he asked, kneeling down at eye level. Bridget looked indifferently at the man's face, considering his question. "Bridget Anita Stone." She answered finally. Her eyes loomed over at the newcomer's place. The grand piano stood behind the boxes against the wall. "Stone. So you're the Bridget Stone I've been hearing about. I'm Sebastian Cook," the stranger replied. "How is your family?"

Bridget didn't answer. She looked at the grand piano with curiousity. She looked at Sebastian Cook, then back at the piano. "Can you play?" she implored.

Sebastian played one of his compositions, curiously looking at the strange little girl seated beside him, content to listen and watch. Even with her indifferent expression, Sebastian could tell she immensely enjoyed seeing his fingers glide along the keys. As the music ended, Little Bridget stared at him with her great green eyes, quite enchanted. "How old are you?" she asked.
"Twenty-seven." Sebastian answered simply. "What about you?"
"I'm turning eight this winter."
Sebastian nodded. The little girl stood up and carefully wrapped her scarf around her delicate neck."I should like to stay longer but I'm afraid it will get dark soon."
"Will you be alright?" Sebastian questioned, quite amazed with her early independence. "Harrow street is the safest place I know." Bridget shrugged.
Sebastian watched in wonderment as the little girl walked out into the chilly autumn air, skipping her way to the sidewalk.

Nobody knew what was going on in Bridget's head. Not even her schoolmates. Not even her teachers. She was extremely placid. She wasn't shy either. And she was an intelligent student. No one could deny Bridget's above-the-average intelligence. Bridget's only bestfriend in the world was her stuffed frog named Clarence. She was a doll her mother bought her on Bridget's fifth birthday. Clarence was Bridget's only confidante who can understand her feelings without asking or saying a word.

Miss Annabelle, her science teacher, was always astounded on Bridget's keen sight on everything. One day, after class, Bridget stayed behind until the whole class had gone. Miss Annabelle was at her desk, reviewing next week's lessons. She looked up at Bridget who had approached her table.
"Is that a new dress, Miss Annabelle?"
"Why... Why yes, it is, Bridget."
"You also changed th color of your nails from red to pink."
"Well, that's right."
Bridget nodded, "pink looks better on you, Miss Annabelle." Then, she picked up her schoolbag and bid her teacher a farewell.

As Bridget was nearing home, she noticed a jet black mercedez inside the estate. She sighed, pulling down her suede hat down over her eyes. She stopped in her tracks, turned around and shuffled to Sebastian Cook's place.