Hey, internet!
My past weeks were pretty crammed with all kinds of stuff, but mostly studying. As I told you, I’m going to do my exams at home – but, well, I missed like two or three months of school due to the whole stuff with Brute. Which means that first I have to study, and study a lot. Dad and Mister C. took care of getting me a private tutor, who comes over almost every day to catch up on subject matter with me. The results are fairly good – I took my English exam today and felt pretty secure about most of it. But most of the time, I feel as if my head was a balloon filled to bursting with water. And the little time left over after studying, I had to spend on the whole paperwork for getting the inheritance. Obviously my mother didn’t exactly pass away naturally, which complicates things. And since her fiancé isn’t exactly rolling in dollars, I decided to cover the costs of the funeral myself, so that’s also occupying me.
Yes, I am conscious about the possibility that my Prince killed her.
No, even if He did, I wouldn’t hold a grudge.
I think I should explain that to you, though.
My parents married at a pretty young age, and they loved each other very, very much. They both loved art, and I know that my Dad still has a file full of pictures he drew of her back when they were together in the cellar. He wanted to be an artist back then, and she liked to be his muse.
They both were pretty rational though. They decided to marry, move together and then just see if they really got along with each other before they wanted to start a family. They spent a few years having a great marriage, so when protection failed for once and they discovered that I was on the way, they decided to keep me.
Even as a baby I was a Daddys child. I would always be grumpy and moody when he wasn’t around, and calm down when he picked me up – at least that’s what he told me. And he loved me very much, too, made always sure to greet me right away when he came home from work (I think he might have had the store back then already…) and play with me a little before he did anything else. He says that that might be what bothered my mother so much. Suddenly, she was only a close second to me when it came to affection, all his attention was focused on me. He still feels pretty guilty about it.
For some reason, my mother was usually good at handling people, but she couldn’t solve that situation. Dad never told me if she worked up the courage to talk to him about it at all, but whatever she did to try, she couldn’t change that he showed more affection towards me than her. I mean, I was a baby and she apparently started to take it out on me a little by not taking care of my every little problem immediately. So of course Daddy always had a reason to be around me, feeding me, washing me, playing with me or changing my diapers. And that made it all worse.
One day, I became very sick. My mother must really have been shocked, because suddenly she took care of me, went to the hospital with me, and was showered with praise for having reacted so quickly and well. She even told that to my Dad. And then I became sick more often, started to get injured randomly a lot and my mother would always patch me up or bring me to the doctor, and nurse me back to health. Daddy was happy and proud about his wife having made peace with me and he paid more attention to her. And one day he wanted to show her his appreciation by coming home earlier and bringing a babysitter right along, to “kidnap her for dinner”.
When he came home with the girl who was supposed to babysit, the first thing he heard was me screaming. He hurried in, worried that an intruder would threaten my mother and me. And he caught her holding me in a tight grip and shoving me into splinters of glass on the floor like madwoman.
I’m not sure if I can really blame her. When she was arrested, the doctors diagnosed “Munchhausen syndrome by proxy”. And I was a toddler, therefore can’t really remember anything of it, although I felt nauseous when I found the file with the pictures of her.
Dad got divorced from her and he didn’t learn about what happened to her afterwards. She never tried to contact us. Her fiancé recently told me that they were about to marry, and that they had planned to start a family together.
You know how I talked about my little knack and how I said that I knew someone who abused it? Take an educated guess as to who it was. During the time of the divorce, my Dad lost almost all of his friends because they all thought that he was a liar and that my mother could only be absolutely innocent.
Almost all of you seem to be so sure about what my Prince is and what He isn’t. But truth is that you don’t know. You don’t know His motivations. You are so sure that the ones He kills are innocent victims. And that a horrible fate awaits those who vanish. But everything I learned about Him up until now is that He thinks in a way that is difficult to comprehend. And He knows things we don’t. My Dad didn’t know about my mothers darker side, he never even suspected her before he saw it with his own eyes. Maybe there’s a side to the people He seeks out that you don’t know of, a dark side. Maybe He tends to watch people for so long because He hesitates, because He gives fate a chance to take another turn. Maybe He only kills when He has to, and maybe He only does it for us. To protect children yet unborn.
Maybe He doesn’t even kill at all.
I found out that Brute found his end when he bothered one of His attendants too much, who was psychologically unstable enough to snap that hard. Apparently Bruce wanted to make a deal with the devil with my Prince – joining forces and get me as a partner/my attention/my love/no one knows his exact wishes and I don’t dare guessing around anymore as a reward or payment. According to Mister C., my Prince didn’t want Brutes service and definitely didn’t want to give me away like a pile of money. But Brute didn’t give up and pestered Person-I-still-don’t-know enough for them to lose it. Nobody wanted it to escalate, but it just did. That does neither justify nor excuse a murder, but I can understand how it happened and most importantly, I now know that it wasn’t my Prince who did it.
Okay, I have to go now. Fiancé (every other nickname I can think of just sounds silly…) is here and we need to go and choose a coffin for my mother together.
Bye, internet!
Fabulous 