If you are going to kill me, don't look me in the eyes

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. This is the scenario of a family that keeps countless secrets under the rug. It has an appearance, but in essence there is something that does not match what is shown, like a candle being lit in an abandoned place that no longer welcomes any living soul.

My family has never been on the brink of normality or part of traditional posters where all the members sit on a couch and shoot fake smiles for the cameras, then have a portrait taken and put up who knows where.

You know those childhood stories or rumors about our grandparents that pass from generation to generation? It's a way to immortalize people who are gone. Besides, that's exactly what they do with my father, the former mayor of the city, an honest man full of kindness in his eyes who died in the fire at the old Theater.

There is a famous saying that art imitates life, and there is evidence of it. Pain in moments of life, for example, is raw material for art, but we can ignore the beautiful and most shown side and pay attention to reality. For example, have you ever noticed that when someone dies in a tragic and sudden way they become immortal? Everyone remembers the person who might not have the best character in the world, but who undoubtedly had the worst death, which is what happened to my father. Following the reasoning of the first sentence, it can be said that tragedy mimics immortality, and my entire family is a proof of that.

In 1974, my father was 20 years old and had arrived in these lands from Las Vegas which at the time was a good place to live, consequently everyone thought he had a very calm hippie look. He arrived in Storm Town and was greeted by John, a 30-year-old church man, who lived alone with his 7-year-old daughter and provided services to the local community. The two were a duo everywhere until John received a promotion in the service, it would be a transfer to city hall which at the time was a great opportunity.

Maybe my father wasn't so happy for his friend's happiness, he wasn't that calm man he appeared to be, for my father it was an injustice to have to keep harvesting the corn while John was occupying a room in the city hall. The vacancy was already occupied by John, so there would be no point in registering, in addition to the position, the occupant gained pieces of immense land. At the time, having land was synonymous with money, a balm for people in debt. John managed to get from square one to a more prestigious one, and my father, his friend, was not very happy with that...

Something wonderful in my city is the Theater, which welcomes all people of high society and has an immeasurable beauty, not only in the place, but in the pieces as well. John and his daughter started to frequent places like this Theater all weekend, while they were having fun and enjoying all the fruits that his effort had generated, my father was on the lookout, increasingly quiet as if he was analyzing something.

John and my father grew apart, and around this time he met my mother. Despite having a wonderful woman by his side, he didn't change the quiet way, he got worse each time, like those children who when they go to do something are just thoughtful and silent.

One night, the theater was packed, more than it was, and the streets were filled with elegant people eager to see the show, all smiling because it was a national holiday and the city was ecstatic to announce the new mayor, John Hastings. His daughter was going to participate in the performance of the little dancers and everyone wanted to see her debut, it was all very emotional. Little did they know that behind the stage was my father smiling, but not for the same reason as other people, maybe only men's ego would understand the reason for his smile.

When the performance began, everyone took their seats and my father began the feat that would curse his entire generation. He set fire to the back of the stage and saw people running and desperate for their lives, seeing it all while smiling and laughing at it all.

But the two people he wanted to die were saved, that reached the height of his sanity and he accompanied them all the time during the pronouncement of the police, firefighters and the trip to the hospital, as any good friend would do.

131 people died in the "accident" and after two weeks the mayor was found dead in his home with his daughter by his side. My father had walked into John's house, and the three of them had dinner like old times, wanting to get closer after the chores of life had pushed him away. He supposedly went home with my mother, but John didn't realize he was home, nor could he, he was sleeping.

My father went into John's room and waited for him to wake up, as soon as his friend opened his eyes my father hit him in the throat leaving his head half cut off, in addition to making a cut in his mouth that left a deadly grin from ear to ear. John's little daughter saw everything and tried to run, but the bodily strength and rage of a man was stronger, my father stabbed her right in the heart and made the same cut in her mouth. Only her gaze screamed in desperation, begging for life.

After 4 years I was born, and my father became the most beloved mayor in town. Everything was wonderful until I was 16, they say adolescence is one of the worst phases because it demystifies all the innocence that the world has created so you don't get traumatized.

All night, a small girl would stand by the piece of furniture that supported the television in my bedroom, and she had a blood-stained grin from ear to ear, a childish laugh that I would have found cute if she didn't look macabre. The first few nights I didn't sleep, it was only later when I told my mother what I saw that she told me the truth.

Her name was Suzie and my father, in addition to killing her, made her watch her own father's death. I don't know why she torments me, revenge maybe. But after two years I got used to her presence, I realized she didn't give off an animalistic energy. One night I saw that despite her laugh and her bloody smile, she had a lost look in her eyes, like any child begging to be close to her parents.

It's my friends, one thing my father taught me is never to look a person in the eye after cheating on them, because even the devil couldn't do that, that's why he used Judas, and my family is full of them.

But in addition he said to me:

-Please, child, never look someone in the eye who wants death or who will kill, they have chased you all your life.

As I tell you this, I feel Suzie's icy hand on my shoulder, and I know that if I look back I'll see her smile from ear to ear and she'll let out that laugh of hers. But I'm not afraid anymore, we talk because of the pain in her eyes, hers of having lost her life early and having seen her father die, and mine for having a greedy father. Now I know why she appeared to me, I was born to live the life my father took from her.