The dinner table I myself made. The rose was the queen's favorite, a courtesy of mine for her funeral, the meat was specifically prepared for the king sitting beside her, and we were all waiting for the little prince to appear, the one supposed to marry me. He didn't, and I watched our majesties laugh until they lost their voices, eating in despair for realizing that they couldn't ever stop, not before they end with their own son, burned and humiliated as they did to the witches of my kingdom.

- Isn't sad? - What? - Knowing that you care more about them than they care about you. - Yes, sure it is. - And... does it hurt? - A lot, every time. - So why do you continue? - Because if I stop to worry about them, I will start to worry about myself, and this terrifies me.

You call me, I answer this time. There are no words to say. I didn’t forgive you, you still think you’re right, father still wait for you with arms open and ready to forget all. That’s how family is. Some problems have no solution, some questions have no answer and... some feelings are too fragile and just let you destroy them once. This is what happened to us, Sis. It’s sad, but in our silence we know it and we just can be sorry for all. We turn off the phone. It’s a good bye. The last one.

It’s difficult to say when things start to become normal again, but I think it was when I stopped to wanna burn everything that reminds me of you; when mother made your favorite cake and ate it without crying or feeling guilty; when father said your name without being sad, Sis. It took some years, difficult ones, but it happened. Time is powerful, you left us and we finally left you, and you can’t imagine how thankful I am for it.

It’s time to meet, Sis. But we won’t, will we? I carry with me the old boxes of feelings you didn’t appear to reclaim and I’m here now in front of your door to give them to you. I prepare myself to this meeting, I repeat the right words in my mind again and again, as an old and boring song. I knock the door. But you stay in the other side, silent, pretending I’m an illusion. It’s time to you face past, Sis, it’s time to see the consequences of your own choices. I’m ready, and you?

You didn’t call, Sis. I was a fool to keep some hope, to imagine that you would think of me only for this time and leave your pride behind. I was a fool to dream with the day when you would put me first in your priority list. Candles in the chocolate cake, balloons all around, messages in the cell phone and people calling one after the other. And you didn’t come, you didn’t call me, and worse than this is to say that I hardly believe that you remembered it at least.

You closed the door in my face without any word of warning. You chose to leave me behind and gave me no other choice but to accept. You erased all our story together, all the things that we lived and all the wars that I fought for your happiness. You used me and left me and, worse than that, you did it knowing that I could never hate you as you deserve.

I need to stop looking for you in every person around me. I’m feeling like an orphan, even knowing that I’m not. Your absence gave me a lack of something that I don’t know how to deal with and I keep trying to full it with every piece of love that I receive. I miss someone to be my safe point, to be my house, the lap where I can lie down and cry. And I blame you for it, I blame you for abandon your responsibility as I was nothing to you. I blame you because it is the only option you left me.

You’re not here to hear me cry and make it stop. You’re not here and I've no idea if you’ll come back or if I wanna accept you back. In the middle of all the rage in my chest, I miss you and I’m so sorry for what you’ve become. You’re a dangerous poison, the one that you know that can kill you with one little swallow, but you can’t stop thinking that things will be different because it's you. Unfortunately, the end is always the same. A poison is a poison, and for my despair you'll never change.

It's cruel. You know they're only doing this for cruelty, but yet you can't stop doubt of yourself. They don't see your efforts, they don't care, they're only next to you to use every chance to whisper that you're not enough. You had always known about it, but now it's different cause they aren't hidding their intentions anymore. And for this level of cruelty and hate you weren't prepared for...

You need time to remember who you really are. You need seconds to softly breath the freedom of the voices trying to push you down. You need minutes to forget their words, to erase each piece of lie that they put in your mind building a castle of insecurities. You need hours to find yourself again, to rediscover your own good parts that they almost made you believe that there aren't any. Maybe you'll need weeks to restart, and i's okay. Don't give up and let your arms open to embrace yourself.

He looks to you, Sis, and smiles, but I know him very well to realize that father is giving up on you. I stay at the same place while he’s leaving the hospital. I wait for any word of yours, I hope you realize that this is the end for him, the point of no return. But you don’t make anything to stop him. And this is sadder than what I could imagine. I follow him and, even knowing that his “good bye” wouldn’t be forever, I can’t avoid to be sorry for the father you’re losing due to your pride.

This time you are the one calling. The sweet melody from my cell phone makes me look at it distrustful, asking myself if you wouldn’t have misunderstood me with someone else. — Will you not answer? — a friend asks. Will I? You’d not call me without a good reason, you’re stubborn, your pride bigger than your love, I know it very well. But, at the same time, I know that maybe you’re just calling to make me suffer, Sis. Again. I turn off the phone and shake my head. — Not this time.

We just receive the news that you’re sick. And I don’t need anyone putting the blame on me to feel myself guilty. It’s strange the way world works. Every single time you call, I answer. I refused once, and that’s enough to make me feel miserable now with you in this hospital. But don’t get me wrong, Sis, I’m here because I do care, not because I forgive you. I learned very well how to get near to you without being hurt. I’ll pay the hospital bill, and this is closest I’ll be.

— Did you see her? — Yes, dad. — Hum… and… did you talk to her? — Kind of. — And… — he stops, looking at his own hands. — How was she? I stare at him, thinking of how to say that she didn’t miss any of us, that my sister has only agreed to meet me because I lied promising her money. He waits, eyes glittering, expecting good news. I force a smile. — She’s fine, we had some coffee, but she was in a hurry, we didn’t talk that much. I’ll try again next week, dad, don’t worry, ok?

— Are you ok? — Yes — you answer, and you don’t care enough about me to ask me back. — Did you bring my money? — Money? — You said that father left me money. — And you that you'd never accept anything from him anymore. — Beatrice! — There’s no money. Only a silly hope of a naive person. I just can't say if I'm talking about me or about you now. — Incredible… Did you lie to me? — Yes. How does it taste? Disgusting, right? — Good bye, Beatrice. — Bye bye, Sis.

I received some news about you, and it is strange to say that I would be happy for them in another time. I heard that you left your mother's house, that now you have your own home, your own cat, your own life. I heard that you are happy and living as nothing has happened between us. And I'm not happy for you, neither angry, sad or disappointed. I'm indifferent of all this changings. And you know what? This is the only good news for me.

Freedom is more than a word, more than a feeling that you win in the breaking chains. Freedom is a way of living, the only way that we should accept. And, in theory, we know and, at the same time, we let friends and family tight our hands, destroy our plans and draw our future. For the first time, Sis, I’m feeling free. I knew freedom when I stopped to follow your steps, when I left your shadow, when I gave up at all on you. And, shit!, how sweet is its taste...

I put everything that belongs to you in a thousand boxes that now are scattered in my room. I look to each cloth, to each book, to each piece of you that you left behind... I look to the wardrobe mirror that once we shared and, sadly, I realize that I am like that old things you didn’t care to carry with you. Yes, Sis, I put everything that belongs to you in a thousand boxes, and in the last one I lock all the love that one day I felt for you. Good luck trying to find the keys.

I make your name forbidden in the house because it makes him suffer. Dad pretends to be strong, he smiles and says that it’s just a matter of time, but I know he doesn’t believe in this. I watch him, I follow him, repeating everything because I know he needs help to continue believing, he can’t give up on you as everyone did. “She’ll understand” he says, “She’ll come back”, he hopes. And I smile, silent, because I don’t wanna lie to him, I don’t wanna show him that I already gave up on you, Sis.

I woke up alone in the bedroom we used to share. I looked to your bed, the one where we used to lie down to watch movies, to laugh for anything, to share our dreams. I chose to close my eyes again, trying to come back to sleep in the naive hope that I could wake up later in a different reality, in one where I would be happy because you would be there, in your bed, sleeping until midday, waking up in a bad mood, complaining about the hour, the breakfast, all… but still there with me.

I see you in the street. Our dog is waiting for your next move. He loves you, I can say it for the way he keeps his eyes on you, ears up, head following any small movement of yours. You’re his entire world, his love. You make a sound of frustration, and he’s too focused on you to not listen. He barks, calling for your attention to give you his love and try to send your problems away as I did in another time. He loves you like I do, baby, and I hope he can stay longer with you than I did.

She came with a fake smile and shaked your hand saying “thank you”. She ran with fake tears, fake story. She started to weave her web, the one she said it’s yours, creating a fake fantasy where she’s a victim, not the spider. She became better: better liar, better bitch. And at the same time you just can’t hate her, you can’t stop imagining that someday you’ll make all this fake parts become true. If she’s the poor princess, it’s your right to show her how good you can be as the evil queen.

The little doll stays at the sun cause she likes to see when it lights the whole place. She loves that the kids come to the house after the sun rises, the air is full of their happy energy, and their voices make a really beautiful song composed of laughter and shouts of joy. The little doll keeps her mouth closed when the master come, she knows him since the very beginning and now she is always too curious to know which child he will choose to make a new doll like her.

His smirk was really lovely, and it wasn’t supposed to make me love him even more, but it did. His eyes shined in the dark, gorgeous black points reflecting the soft light of the old lamp in my basement and making me feel his adrenaline. He was a drug, too dangerous and forbidden to deny the pleasure to try it. He passed his red fingers in his blond hair, painting its strands, laughing so beautiful that I laughed together. It’d be a romantic scene, if I could ignore the new corpses between us...

The king had no heir, and the queen was near to death. A perfect scene for some secret lover who told him she was pregnant. But the queen was sick, not blind, not deaf, and the whispers ran faster when the the other woman was her little sister. In the cold morning of the queen’s death, the king felt something was wrong and, by the night, he found a heart and a womb covering his throne with red. The king had no heir, no queen, no secret lover and, due to a loyal blade, no head.  

No one rejects the queen. I checked twice, but it was helpless, I knew that nothing would change that “No”. I had sent my truest feelings to the one who was supposed to keep and answer them with the right word, the only one that I’d accept. And I checked it again, eyes passing through the ink in the paper looking for the mistake. Lips opened, voice escaping in a soft sound of comprehension. Yes, there was something clearly wrong, but in my own sword, too clean to this story.

The emptiness in my heart doesn’t hurt anymore. It’s like the ocean when all the life in it is dead. You look at it, knowing that before it’s beautiful and full of colors, and now you’re just used to the solitude filling the dark and cold water. I’m this forgotten ocean, staying at the same place, remembering the life that I used to have. The life you killed when you betrayed me.