“But he is so yummy, mother,” She said. “So yummy. Didn’t you see how cute he is?”
I rolled my eyes and omitted a smile. That must have been the demonic part in me that wanted to smile at my daughter biting a boy she thinks is yummy. Don’t we all girlies like to do that from time to time?
I allowed reason to win over and managed to knot my face. “Still. That’s no excuse, Shew.”
“Why?”
“You just can’t. There are some rules that girls should follow without asking.”
“But I want more,” She stomped her feet stubbornly as that tint of gold gleamed in her eyes again. She did not understand the darkness she possessed inside her. Her darkness was spontaneous and childish. But for how long would she stay only a beautiful monster before the cocoon her darkness is wrapped inside will give up and split open?
“More. More. More.” She repeated.
“Stop it.” I lost control and screamed at her face to face.
That’s when the light in her face dimmed …
She bowed her head down, looking at the floor as I could feel her body heating up in my hands. I think I heard a growl somewhere inside of her. I could only see her forehead wrinkling tightly behind strands of black hair as her skin died slowly into a paler color. Letting go of her hands, I swallowed my shriek so she does not sense my fear. Whatever disease or curse possessed her, I couldn’t allow myself to lose control and sovereignty over her. I am her mother, and I am the Queen of Sorrow.
It was this very moment when I first noticed that we have become rivals, not mother and daughter.
“I know what this is all about.” She sighed in a lower tone, still not looking at me.
My heart raced, as I was afraid that when she raises her head up again, I would see those golden, yet scary, eyes of her again. I was afraid they would be blackened by sorrow like her grandfather. I was alone with her in the second floor of the castle, regretting that I didn’t keep closer to my husband. What will become of her now? What will become of me?
I doubt that she will only want to suck on my thumb this time.
“Did you hear me, mother?” She repeated with her head down.
“I did, darling.” I said reluctantly, trying to fake being confident “Wh-h-at is this about?”
Eventually, she raised her head …
“I think the prince doesn’t like me.” She said with her blue eyes filled with unborn tears.
There were no fangs or golden eyes to be seen. She was just a seven-year-old girl with blood dripping from her lips, experiencing rejection for the first time in her short life span. I was too confused and overwhelmed to explain to her that the prince, almost dying from her bite, wasn’t rejecting her. That you don’t bite some yummy boy and expect him to giggle and jump the rope for you.
“It’s not that he didn’t like you,” I said, holding her in my arms again, letting her smear hear bloody lips onto my royal dress. “It’s—“
“Then what is it?” She sobbed in my arms. Her skin was cold as ice.
“It’s just that you don’t bite someone you like so soon,” I made up a lie. “Things don’t happen that way, Shew. You need to spend a lot of time together first. Get to know each other, and make sure that he will want you to bite him by then.”
“Really?” She gazed happily into my eyes. “Can I try again, then? I promise I’ll let him spend all the time he wants with me first.”
That night, I washed her then tucked her to bed, reciting that story about the sleeping beauty kissed awake by the prince. As her eyes closed, I wondered if Sleeping Beauty bit the prince after he kissed her. Maybe the prince’s kiss wasn’t a kiss. Maybe it was a bite.
In the following years, we managed to keep her away from other children since she was attracted to biting those who were her age. Especially, the yummy ones.
My husband sent for doctors, sailing over from Germany, Transylvania, and Italy to solve the mystery and cure her disease or curse as discreetly as possible. None of them had a solution, even the famous Dutch doctor Frederich Van Helsing. She bit a couple of them.