I watched the sky change colors through the small window and admired the orange glow that shone over my green eyes.
It was autumn, and the breeze of the changing season already softened my skin.
I heard murmurs in the corridor, paid little attention until I realized they stopped in front of my door.
— Your Highness, I don’t understand why you insist on seeing the prisoner. His Majesty gave us strict orders that no one was to visit her.
— That is my business! — Recognizing Clarissa’s voice, my body straightened immediately. — I don’t want guards meddling in my affairs. I will resolve it with His Majesty myself. Your duty is only to follow the royal family’s orders.
They fell silent for a while, and it wasn’t long before I heard the clinking of locks. When the door opened, I saw the princess, her royal poise unshaken, her expression impassive. Then one of the guards announced:
— Her Highness has come to see you.
I made a brief, clumsy bow on purpose, followed by a grimace. Clarissa’s small smile betrayed her, stealing a piece of her impeccable composure.
— You may leave now. — She waved her hand dismissively. — And stay far away.
The guards nodded and left, slamming the door behind them. Once she realized we were no longer being watched, Clarissa sat down beside me, cross-legged, smiling so wide her teeth showed.
— I felt bad about yesterday, — she said, opening her bag and pulling out a plate. — So I baked some cookies for you!
— How sweet, the little princess cares about her prisoners!
She rolled her eyes, and I grinned.
Irritating Clarissa was addictive. The way she furrowed her brows and pressed her lips together in annoyance made her adorable — and turned my monotonous days into something bearable. It had become a habit I intended to keep until my death.
— I didn’t know what flavor you liked, so I made hazelnut cream, chocolate, chocolate with peanut, hazelnut with guava filling, and chocolate with dulce de leche filling.
As she listed the endless variations, all I could think was that I hadn’t even heard of some of those names before. With no idea how to react, I grabbed the first cookie my hand touched and shoved it into my mouth. The flavor melted on my tongue, and a moan of satisfaction escaped me.
— Relax, Your Highness. I eat everything.
— Clarissa.
— What?
I looked at her, confused, watching her cheeks flush pink as she covered her face with her hands in embarrassment.
— Just call me Clarissa. No need to be so formal.
Satisfied, I shrugged.
— Alright then, Clarissa.
She returned the smile, then reached back into her bag.
— Oh, look! I brought juice and milk too. And since I knew there wouldn’t be any cups here, I brought some as well.
My eyes widened, pulling a burst of laughter from the princess.
— How on earth did you fit all of that inside that bag?
— If I ever find out, I’ll let you know. But that’s not important.
Since I’d been imprisoned, I thought I’d never see sunlight again. But there, in that moment, Clarissa felt like the sun itself. She shone so brightly that I could barely stand to look at her eyes.
We spent the afternoon eating cookies and talking. Clarissa was nothing like I expected. Unlike her father, she was fun, kind, and warm. She was the most beautiful and enchanting girl I had ever seen.
— Next time I come, I want to do your hair.
— You’re coming again?
The question slipped out too quickly, and I noticed Clarissa’s face heat up — which I found rather cute.
— Yes. I liked talking to you. I’d love to do it again… if you’d like, of course.
— You’ll always be welcome, little princess.
She bit her lip, trying to hide her smile, and stood, dusting off her dress.
— So, Melanie, will you let me do your hair?
— Do whatever you want. In my situation, I’ll take what I can get. Just, please, don’t braid it. I hate braids.
Her laugh made me want to freeze time. It was so beautiful I could listen to it forever.
— Alright, I promise. No braids.
And with that, Clarissa left the cell, leaving me alone once more with my thoughts.
...
I had always been a heavy sleeper, and prison hadn’t changed that. But I no longer remembered what it felt like to sleep peacefully. That night, nightmares took hold of me. I knew it was a dream, yet I was trapped in it. I surrendered, letting it consume me.
— Mom! Mom!
A ten-year-old version of me ran through the house, searching for her mother.
— Mel! What do you have there?
I held up a drawing of me, my mother, and my father.
— How beautiful, Mel! Give it to me, I’ll hang it on the fridge, alright?
I handed it over, and she placed it beside all my other drawings.
— Mel!
I turned to see my friends, Megan and Paulo, running into the kitchen.
— Guys! Look at what I drew! — I beamed with pride. — Isn’t it pretty?
— Wow, it’s amazing, Mel.
— Are you sure you drew that yourself?
I stuck my tongue out at Paulo, and he did the same back.
— Why don’t you all go play outside? I’ll make you a snack soon, my mother suggested.
We were laughing as we stepped out of the kitchen. But then I heard my mother scream. I spun around, and the kitchen was in flames. She was calling out to me. I tried to shout back, but my voice was smothered. No sound left my lips.
When I turned again, Megan and Paulo were gone.
— Paulo! Meg! — I tripped on a fallen beam and hit my head. — Mom! Where are you? Why did you leave me?
I cried and cried until I finally collapsed.
I woke up terrified, drenched in sweat. My whole body trembled. The night hadn’t ended yet, so I lay back down, wiping the tears from my face. Sleep never came. I stayed awake until dawn, watching the sun rise through the bars.