Not A Killer Daughter

The body in front of me breathes in and out. Slow and steady. A knife is poised to strike. The moonlight glints on its iron surface. I can see my face in the reflection on the shining metal. It doesn’t look as scared as I feel. It is the cold mask I was taught to keep in place at all times. I lift the knife over my head and bring it down. The sleeping figures' eyes flash open and I see who they really are. I cry out. 

I am panting. The door creaks open, and my mother and father walk through. I used to admire them. Especially my mother. But now I know that my family are cold-blooded killers. How can they end an innocent life? I breathe out, trying to keep my features from relaying my internal panic.

“Lilith. Who is to be your first kill?” My mother’s lips curl up at the edges. For the first time I feel scared of her.

“I saw that I am to kill the crown prince.” Saying makes it painfully real. I look up and see my mothers eyes widen. Then she covers it up with another of her chilling smiles. We are Adairs. We never back down from a challenge.

“Well good luck Lilith. May the shadows will guide you to your success.” My father places a kiss on my head. Usually these gestures of affection are scorned by the Adair family. But everyone knows that I'm probably not coming back. 

“We will leave you to get prepared.” My mother walks out of the room. She doesn’t acknowledge the fact that I will probably die tonight. That the prince is so well guarded that I won't be able to not get caught. Her shadow twists underneath her. The Adair shadows. They start to live and breathe when we turn fourteen. Before our first kill. They are supposed to guide us. I can hear my own shadow calling me. I look down. It is tinged purple around the edges. I hear it talking. 

Hello Lilith. I hope you carry through with this. Our world will be better off without the poor boy. 

“I am an Adair. I will not back down.” I whisper it. I know that this masquerade will break when I get to the boy’s room. When. Not if. Never if. I try desperately to convince myself. 

“I am an Adair. I will carry out this duty and see the end of the crown prince.” I can feel my shadows hunger for the promise of death grow larger with every word. “Now go my faithful shadow until I summon thee again. When I do it will be with success.”

As you wish. Lilith Adair.

I exhale as my shadow disappears from under my feet. Then I start packing. In goes a knife and some throwing stars. Then I grab some money. I won’t kill him. I'll leave and hide instead. I’m not the killer that my family is. But at the same time I am. I am Adair. Killer blood runs through my veins. My hand moves on its own accord, putting the money back. I get on my horse and ride out into the night's depths. It is cold, so I pull my cloak tighter around my shoulders. I feel sick to my stomach. My family. A line of bloodthirsty killers. I steer my horse towards the palace. I take out my knife and stars and stash them in my boots and in the hidden pockets in my shirt. Then I give my horse an apple and set it free. Watching it go free so quickly breaks my heart. I will never be able to run so freely from my troubles. I am a killer. I’m a killer. A killer. 

“Focus Lillith.” I whisper to myself. I look up. The walls are too high to scale so I grab a grappling hook. I trained for this moment my whole life. If I mess it up I might as well kiss my life goodbye right now. I toss the hook over the edge of the wall and pull myself up. One hand over the other. Remember to keep breathing. The wind pushes me to the left and then right and back again. I reach the top of the wall. I had timed my entry perfectly. Good. Bad. I want to get caught. I don’t. I jump off the wall, after wrapping up the hook, and proceed to flip three times before landing soundlessly on the grassy floor. My silence disturbes me. I move on anyway. I put on a mask, both real and hypothetical. They are both cold and stony and make me feel far more superior than I am. I walk around the palace to the door that leads to the kitchens. Or I think. I take a bobby pin out of my hair. It takes me seconds to pick the lock. I slip through the door before closing it. It creaks ever so slightly as it closes. I whirl around looking for the person who heard the noise. No one is there. I bask in the relief that follows the sense of danger. I hear a voice and duck into the shadows.

“I assure you Miss and Mister Adair that your daughter has not been spotted on these grounds. If she does not successfully rid the world of my only heir and son then you will not get your moneysworth and we will do all we can to make sure you pay for your crimes.” I hear a voice that I know far too well. It chills me so thoroughly I fear I may become a block of ice.

“My daughter will complete her task. If she fails I will dispose of her and your son. As well as any of the guards who saw her. I will expect more pay for this task however.” 

“Good. Good. You are dismissed Miss and Mister Adair.” I hear the rustling of her dress. I can even tell which one it is. It’s the purple on with the exceeding amounts of lace and frills. I had once asked her what it could possibly be for. She had said: “Getting agreements and business done.” I only now understand what she meant.

They walks out of a different door. Toxic relief spreads around my mind. I continue to creep through the shadows. Then I realize that there is a little problem. I don’t know how to find my victims rooms. I curse myself. Then I dash up the stairs. I go up three flights of stairs before I think I am getting close. My blood boils. I turn to my left. A door. Up ahead. There are guards stationed there. I pick the lock of the door right next to me before slipping into it. I close it as soundlessly as I can. There is a window opposite the door. I exhale. The room looks like it’s being lived in. There is a red dress that I recognize. I freeze. Then I sprint for the window. No one is in here. I pick the widow lock and swing onto the ledge. A key jingles in the lock. My mother comes in. Father right behind her. Their eyes open when they see me there.

"I won't do it." I say. I sharpen it like one of the knifes in my boots before sending the words their way. My mother growls and rushes towards me.

I slam the window in her face before closing my eyes, opening them and jumping. The air makes my hair fly back and I land, just barely, on the ledge of the princes window. I pick the lock and creep through his window. He is asleep. I take out a knife from my boot. I slide it right back. I am not killing him. I cover his mouth. He is startled awake. Before he can say anything I whisper in his ear.

“We have to get out of here.”