They say every question has an answer—there is no question without one.
But I never got the answers I asked for.
My life has become a mystery book filled with questions, but no clear answers. I see the doors, but I can never open them.
That night was the beginning of my story—the first question that was met with only silence.
---
September 24, 2007
I remember the date clearly. It was my birthday, and I was wearing a white dress. My nanny, Miss Selena, was helping me get ready. I was smiling so much—my innocent heart was waiting for my father to come home, just like he promised.
The castle was my whole world—my mother, Selena, and a few servants lived in it with me. My father was always away for work. He barely came home. But that day, my mother said he had promised to come, and I was so happy—truly happy.
"Star… honey, are you ready?" My mother's voice was full of love. I jumped off the vanity chair and ran to her. She crouched down and kissed my forehead.
Her grey eyes were gentle, her skin soft, and her long, straight hair was loose. She wore a burgundy gown that perfectly suited her graceful figure. We looked nothing alike—her silver beauty stood in contrast to my ocean-blue eyes and curly hair. But our bond... it was precious.
That day, she admired my little features, but something in her eyes—something I couldn't understand then—felt off.
"My princess looks so beautiful. All your friends are here."
"And Daddy? Is he here?" I asked eagerly. I didn't care about anything else. My father was the biggest gift. I wanted to hug him, show him my dollhouse, and build a new one together.
My mother glanced at Selena, who smiled softly—but that smile didn't reach her eyes.
"Yes, Daddy will be here too. Now let's go and meet everyone."
The grand hall was decorated with flowers and balloons. A massive five-layer cake stood in the center. My friends were all there—but my father wasn't.
Not when I waited.
Not when I cut the cake.
Not even when everyone left.
Still in my white dress, I sat on the stairs, staring at the main door. My mother and Selena stood at the top, asking me to come to bed. But I didn't listen.
I stayed there until midnight.
Eventually, I fell asleep. My mother carefully carried me to bed and tucked me in. She lay beside me, her sadness painted clearly on her face.
Then—
A scream shattered the silence of the castle.
I jolted up, sitting upright. "Mom?" I called. She wasn't beside me. "Selena?" No response.
Terrified, I climbed out of bed and opened the door. I reached the stairs—and froze.
There, on the staircase, my mother was kneeling, clutching her stomach, blood pouring through her fingers.
I screamed. "MOM!"
She looked up, startled. Gathering her strength, she stood and ran to me before I could reach her. She grabbed my hand and led me—not to my room, but hers. Selena appeared from a hallway and supported my mother's other side.
But before we could enter the room, a voice echoed through the castle.
"You really think you can save this girl from me, Asteria?"
It was the man I had been waiting to see—my father.
He stood at the base of the stairs, a gun in his hand. His eyes were dark—so dark I hid behind Selena. My wounded mother stood between us, shielding me. Her voice was nothing like before. It was sharp. Fierce.
"You won't harm her. I won't let you."
Why would my father want to harm me?
My mother's figure trembled, blood soaking through her nightgown. "M-Mom…" I whispered, tears welling in my eyes.
She looked at me with soft eyes, kissed my face, and turned to Selena. "Keep her safe."
Selena nodded. She picked me up and rushed into the bedroom. As the door slammed shut, we heard gunshots outside.
Selena held me tightly. I was too scared to move or speak. Ten minutes later, one final shot rang out—and then, silence.
Footsteps neared the door. Selena, still holding me, backed up until her spine hit the wall. She trembled.
She took out her phone and whispered into it, "Please come… please…"
Then the door opened.
My father stood there, smiling—a smile that chilled my spine. I clung tighter to Selena. She grabbed a vase and tried to hit him, but he was too fast. He caught her wrist, tore me from her arms, and hit her with the same vase.
"SELENA!"
She collapsed, unconscious.
He took me away.
As we reached the staircase, I saw it—my mother's lifeless body in a pool of blood.
"MOM! Leave me! Please!"
I kicked and screamed, but it was no use.
At the base of the stairs, he threw me to the floor. My knees bled. Men in black suits entered the hall and surrounded us.
"It's time, sir. They've ordered her execution," one said.
I was shaking, begging, pleading for my life.
But those men—those heartless monsters—showed no pity.
Annoyed by my cries, my father hit me hard. I collapsed again, vision blurring. He raised his gun—
Bang!
A shot rang out.
He screamed in pain and dropped to the ground, clutching his leg.
Someone had shot him.
And then—
I was lifted from the floor.
---
When I woke up, I was in Selena's arms. We were hiding beneath the stairs. She had a scratch on her forehead. The sound of crying echoed from the hall. I peeked out.
Blood. Everywhere. The floor looked painted in red.
I ignored Selena's hand trying to pull me back. I walked barefoot across the bloody marble.
And then—I stopped.
A boy, around 17 or 18, stood in the hall. He had my father by the throat. My father's body was drenched in blood and bruises. The boy's black shirt clung to him, soaked in blood and sweat. His hair was matted, his hands red and raw. His eyes burned with rage—rage that could destroy the world.
But when he looked at me… I wasn't afraid.
An old woman rushed in from the main door, gasping at the scene. "Ethan! Let him go!"
The boy—Ethan—didn't move.
I took a step forward. My father whimpered.
Ethan's grip tightened. A moment later, my father stopped moving and collapsed to the floor.
I froze in horror.
Ethan fell to his knees and stretched a hand toward me. I hesitated, then slowly walked toward him, leaving bloody footprints with every step.
When I reached him, he tried to touch my cheek. I flinched at the sight of his bloody hand. He paused, wiped it on his shirt, then gently caressed my cheek again.
He looked over my body, noticing my bruises and the bleeding knee. He let out a shaky breath and brushed my hair.
I broke.
I wrapped my arms around him and sobbed into his shoulder. His hand stroked my back, comforting me.
The old lady tried to pull me away, worried that Ethan's blood was staining my dress—but he stepped back, holding me tighter.
"Ethan…" she whispered.
He shook his head.
"Mine," he said, voice deep and commanding. "No one touches what is mine. No one."
Selena gasped. The lady stood in shock.
A tear slipped down my cheek. He wiped it and kissed my forehead.
"Mine," he whispered again.
I didn't understand what he meant. I was confused—but I felt safe.
He carried me out of the castle and placed me in one of the black cars. A man opened the door, and Ethan slid in, cradling me in his lap. I looked at him, then at the castle—for the last time.
That was the last time I saw my castle.
I was seven.
---
When I woke again, I was in a new room. The ceiling was white, but everything else was black and red. I lay on a king-sized bed, dressed in clean clothes.
Then it hit me.
Everything.
My mother was gone.
I burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably.
The door flew open. Ethan stood there, panting. His eyes widened as he ran to me and pulled me into his arms.
"Mom… I want Mom…" I cried, over and over.
He said nothing. He just held me close, patting my head, until I fell asleep again.
The next time I woke, Selena was by my side.
But Ethan was gone.
"Where is he?" I asked.
Selena said nothing.
Only silence answered my question.
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