AN: This is not only my first Mädchen in Uniform fanfiction, but my first fanfiction ever! Lots and lots to learn here. I'm really excited about writing for this fandom. I'm a huge fan (on the verge of obsession) of the story. And that includes the book "The Child Manuela", both the movies and the play.

This story contains spoilers of the movie (you are free to pick the older or newer version – at least at this point. Subsequent chapters might contain spoilers of the newer version, with lovely Lilli Palmer as Fraulein von Bernburg).

As this was the first thing that I ever wrote about the fandom, I hope I did grasp a little bit of Elisabeth personality. Hope to improve, though. :)

"Never... to see you again?" – This question haunted me since the day that it was asked me, ten years ago. My realization that we would truly never see each other again came a few seconds before hers, and my heart sunk and tears started to come to my eyes. I held them, barely, hardly able to control myself, for she had to understand! However, as much as my realization of what I thought was right at the time, I could not pronounce the word to answer her. I could only slightly nod in agreement.

She was devastated and I could do nothing. It was for the best, I thought. She was my student, after all. I could not possibly allow my feelings for her, so deeply hidden in my heart, to come up to the suffice, right there, at that moment.

Afterwards, when she tried to kill herself by jumping off the stairs, I thought that I knew I've made the right decision. I had to leave Manuela forever, to never see her again. I wanted her happiness, even if it was going to be devastating for us at first.

I tried as best as I could not to cry with the other students, when we were saying good bye. I tried to show confidence that I really didn't have. I didn't go to see Manuela again. We never said good bye.

Sometimes, I regret my decision not to wait for her to wake up and get better from her heartache. But I was afraid and I knew that if I had seen her eyes again, pleading to me to stay, I would lose confidence and I would ended up staying. I was not prepared to stay, though. And she did not deserve more pain and disappointment. She deserved to grow up and to live her life for herself, and not for my sake.

As the years went, I never got married. Not from lack of option. I just, as before, could not think of myself bonded to a man for life. I always praised my independence and for that, loneliness seemed righter. I lived with my parents for sometime, but, as quickly as possible, I moved out to my own apartment. I found a job as a teacher in a daytime school in Berlin. A very renowned school, but at the same time, since it wasn't an internship, I could keep my distance from the students, not needing to bond as much as before.

I had my old students' memories in my heart, always. It was very painful not to be able to watch them growing up and become respected and responsible women.

But most of all, it was Manuela's sweetness that kept coming constantly to my dreams, daydreams, thoughts and poetry. She was an inspiration to my poems, my drawings and my paintings.

For all those years, I wondered where she was, what she was doing, what were her plans and her dreams. And most of all, did she ever thought of me? Or did she just forget me, like I was just a young woman's infatuation, a crush, something that turned into a bad, shameful memory?

That pained me, and I could only lament my decisions, my words and my thoughts.

I always wondered how she would look like when she became a woman; of what were the colors of her dresses; what was she doing after leaving the school, and perhaps, of who was her husband. Husband… one more piece of my heart would break by that thought.

Nothing, though, prepared me to see her descending from the stairs of the palace's ballroom. She was stunning, taller and fairer. Her cherry lips, in contrast to her green eyes, and her auburn hair were the only reminiscent parts of the youthful face that I once knew. She didn't look like a girl anymore. She was a woman.

My legs trembled and I felt dizzy all of a sudden.

She was wearing a champagne dress that underlined her silhouette beautifully. Her hair was held into a high bun, and her arms were almost all covered in white gloves. She was being conducted by a young man, no older than her. They were laughing and seemed very intimate.

I excused myself from the unknown gentleman that came to ask me to dance and I started to move closer to the corridor formed by the guests, where she was bound to walk through. I tried to move closer to her, most carefully, hiding behind other people. I got as close as I would dare, not to risk being noticed. From that distance, I could see her slightly red cheeks.

She passed by and, suddenly, she stopped and looked around. As fast as I could I hid myself behind a very tall man, until she finally moved away.

My heart was pounding so fast that I could not think of what to do next. I found myself frozen on the same spot, with all kinds of emotions going through me. If I stayed, Manuela and I would eventually bump into each other. But if I left, I would have missed the opportunity to talk to her. I was aching to get close to her, to talk to her. Aching to feel those adoring eyes looking at me again, and, for once, be able to recognize it and retribute it.

To be continued