the princess of killers // eng. version

1. the girl in a white dress

My memory would not fail in remembering every detail of that nightmare that started as an ordinary day. It was impossible to forget my last hours in companion to my sanity. Not even on my most radical dreams, I would be even prepared for what was coming next.

On the cold Christmas Eve, my mom packed a bag for one more business trip. I was already used to her absence, but I never really enjoyed it. I was too attached to her to ignore that she spent more time working than with her daughter.

— Are you sure you need to go this time? What is so urgent for an accountant to do on Christmas Eve?

— I can't let them down, sweetie. You will understand as soon as you start working.

— Well, I printed my resume. I was planning to deliver it to the cafe nearby. It is looking for someone.

— It is not time, Amanda. You have to keep focused on your studies before looking for part-time jobs.

— I just graduated! And I got homeschooling all my life. All I want is to have an outside experience, make friends, ordinary stuff!

— It is not the right time. Can't you see how exhausting it is to work? I have to leave my beautiful daughter for it. — she said, laughing.

— You will not buy me with cheap compliments. — I answered, laughing as well — I know it must be exhausting. But since Dad died you don't stay at home. Sometimes I even wonder if you enjoy your trips more than your time with me. I didn't decide if it happens because the house doesn't help your grief or if it is my fault. I don't know. I just wish I could understand you.

— No, Amanda Feelwood. You're wrong. It is my job, and you have to respect that.

Without even looking at me, she finally took her suitcase off the counter with the worst look on her face. It was never a good time to talk about my father with her. It was a forbidden subject. My mom didn't talk to me about my father at all, not about the good moments, and worst, she never talked to me about the abuse I suffered from his hands. But after all, I always overheard her speaking to herself in her bedroom, pretending she was talking to him. Maybe she missed him a lot but didn't want me to get hurt.

The embarrassing silence was interrupted by the bread jumping from the toaster, with a wonderful smell. I got up and brought it to the counter, putting it on mine and my mom's plate.

— What did you put in the sandwich today?

— It is a BLT, of course. My favorite.

— Aren't you going to eat? — she asked.

— I will. It is just too hot. — I said, starting to smile — You always make me try it first! Are you afraid it is bad? Maybe poisoned? — I laughed as she started to stare at me seriously — I would be cleverer if I tried to poison you, right? I would put it in your drink! I wouldn't switch the sandwiches.

— You know I don't enjoy those jokes.

She got genuinely bothered by the joke. She got up and threw the coffee on the sink, leaving the sandwich untouched. I couldn't avoid the instant eye roll. Her humor was clearly unstable and bothering me too much that day. But I wouldn't be the one to challenge her. I simply stole her sandwich and was more than happy with, now, two warm bread.

— Oh, mom, please! Give me a break! It was just a joke.

While I finally ate my breakfast, she left the kitchen without even looking at me. Minutes later she returned joyfully with a big white box with a red ribbon. I couldn't understand her fast switch of humor, but I wouldn't complain about it. After all, I just wanted to be in peace with her. I had no idea how many days I would spend without seeing her.