Page 3 of Downfall of a Princess

“So? What do you see?” Vera shifted at my side impatiently, making the flame of her candle flicker.

The light bounced back with a gazillion reflections, forcing the shadows to shift and lurch down the endless, dark corridor inside the mirror. At the end of it, all I could see was darkness.

Was that what my future held? A dark nothingness?

It was a grim realization for a thirteen-year-old. But we all matured early here, and maturity meant looking at things realistically. Nothing bright or shiny waited for me in our village, only a dead-end life.

As if sensing my somber thoughts, Tanya heaved a sigh. Her candle flickered, nearly going out. The mirror tunnel darkened, momentarily turning into a black abyss. The shadows solidified in the middle, looking impenetrable.

The flame of Tanya’s candle burst back to life, mirroring the one on Vera’s side. The two lights stretched down the corridor until the reflections turned from gold to silver.

Then, I saw a face.

A pale, beautiful woman stared back at me from the mirror. Her silver-gray eyes studied my face, moving from my eyes to my nose to my mouth, then back again. She was dressed in a dark long robe over a white shirt. And shesawme.

“Ahh...” My mouth fell open.

I shrank back from the couch. The mirror slipped from my shoulder and crashed to the floor. The old glass cracked, breaking into four jagged pieces.

“Fuck, Ira!” Vera leaped back, narrowly avoiding a cut to her bare knee. “What did you do that for?”

“Hey, what did you see?” Tanya asked softly. “Was it your mama?”

The woman in the mirror had luminous pale skin, raven-black hair that blended with shadows, and silver eyes that glistened like stars. She couldn’t be any more different from my mother who had ruddy skin, a bulbous nose that was permanently red from heavy drinking, and light-brown hair that I’d inherited.

“No. It wasn’t Mama.”

“Then who was it?” Vera asked.

“I don’t know.”

I had no idea who the woman was. I had never seen anyone like her before. But she looked real, and I wished she had stayed.

I LAY ON THE COUCHin our living area with the kitchen just behind a partial wall.

The girls left shortly after the mirror had broken. I’d walked out with them to use the outhouse. After returning to the house, I locked the door, made sure all the windows were also locked, then propped a chair under the handle of the closed door to my bedroom. I put a plate on top of the chair, then an upturned glass, and finally balanced a fork on top of the glass. This way, if anyone were to climb through the broken window in the bedroom to get to me in the living room, they’d tip the chair with all the dishes and hopefully make enough noise for me to wake up and run. A heavy sleeper like me needed a lot of noise to wake up.

Only sleep wouldn’t come to me tonight as I lay on the couch, clutching the knife I’d kept under my pillow ever since Mama left.

The wind howled in the rafters somewhere. A mouse scratched inside a wall. The miraculous vision of the silver-eyed woman in the mirror tunnel didn’t stay in my thoughts for long, replaced by real-life concerns I faced.

Mama was gone. Dad said she left us. If so, I didn’t blame her, I just wished she’d taken me along.

If the rumors were true, however, then she hadn’t run anywhere at all but lay dead in the old potato field. Maybe I should borrow a shovel from Baba Nadya and dig behind the bus stop tomorrow. I’d look for Mama since no one else would.

The front door screeched open, then slammed shut. I jumped on my couch, pulling the knife out. Then realized it must’ve been Dad coming home since he was the only one who had the house key. His stumbling footsteps and grunting noises confirmed it. At least he didn’t crash on the front porch this time, managing to get inside on his own.

I stuck the knife back under the pillow and lay down, pretending to be asleep. Hopefully, he’d just go straight to his bedroom without trying to speak to me. Listening to his mumbling rants would be a waste of time. But at least when he was too drunk to stand upright, he couldn’t punch hard enough to hurt.

Instead of the bedroom, however, Dad stomped into the kitchen, mumbling, “I’ve got nothing, man... Nothing. The bitch left. Took everything. But I need it. I’ll pay you later. I’m good for it, man... I swear.”

He wasn’t talking to himself. Someone came with him, as another set of footsteps followed him into the kitchen. Then, the light flicked on, illuminating the space behind the partial wall and out of my view.

“You really think she’s left, huh? You don’t remember anything at all?” a male voice replied. I didn’t think I’d heard that voice before.

“What’s there to remember? She’s gone. Took everything. Now, I’ve got nothing.”

“You’ve never had anything, you idiot. You’ve long traded for booze anything worth something. But booze is cheap, and the potato piss you distill is even cheaper. But this here...” A chair screeched, being shoved aside, then a plastic bag crinkled. “This shit is expensive, dude. I told you before, it was gonna cost you.”

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