PRINCELESS by Cam Jace Storykiller
Copyright©by Cameron Jace
January 15 2019
“Your mother sure loves you so much.” The man said, looking over her shoulder. With his hands on his chubby waist, and smoke spiraling out of his nostrils, Venus pondered whether she should go back to her mother.
“How’d you know that?”
“A mother with a gun, protecting her child,” he pointed outside as the ship left the dock. “Are you kidding me?”
Venus turned and stared. Her mother was fearless. She wondered if she could ever match her abilities—that’s if she decided to succumb to the idea of becoming an assassin.
“I hope she doesn’t get herself hurt.” Venus mumbled.
“Don’t worry, child, she is immune,” the Sailor said. “That’s the point of having been hurt before.”
“I don’t want to get hurt.” Venus said.
“And I wish I can go back to yesterday when I was younger and thinner and women threw theirselves at me,” the Sailor chuckled–and coughed.
She turned back and faced him, tilted her head and squinted. “Are you really going to take care of me?”
“I barely take care of my cholesterol,” he patted his slightly protruding belly.
The joke didn't land. Venus offered an involuntarily poker face.“Why am I here?”
“So I can teach you to take care of yourself.”
“I can take care of myself already.” She slung her bag over her shoulder and walked away.
“I suppose you know where your room is, little princess.” He mocked her.
Venus stopped herself from reacting. She realized she didn’t even know. Looking around, the ship looked old and dirty and ramshackle and old.
Few people walked the corridors. Old men and women with yellow teeth and tattered leather coats. Mostly yellow. This place actually stank… of fish.
“Is this a…” she turned and faced the Sailor.
“Fish is what we catch,” he puffed smoke in the air. “and eat.”
“I thought you’re taking me to the Organization to learn how to become an assassin.”
“Spot on, princess,” he rubbed his belly and stomped his oversized boots. “And while on the way, I’m instructed to teach you some stuff.”
“Like give a princess a fish, and you feed her for a day,” he grinned, throwing a fishnet at her. “Teach a princess to fish, and you feed her for a lifetime.”
Venus caught the fishnet and stared it at as if it were an alien from outer space. “I’m not here to fish.”
“Oh, you are, princess.”
“Don’t call me princess!”
The Sailor smiled, “That’s interesting.”
“Not wanting to be a princess anymore.”
“Mother told me it was bad for me.”
“A fast learner, aren’t you… princess.”
“Stop that!” her voice cracked with tension, realizing she had never lived alone before.
The Sailor knelt in front of her, puffing smoke in her face. “Here is a first lesson that you should carry with you all through the trip…”
“What would that be?” her nostrils flared.
“The world will call you names. The world will label you. The world will try to tell you what you can and you can’t. Even tell you whether you’re a princess or not. It’s all bullshit.
She suppressed a smile. Shit. She’d always wanted to say the word but Mother wouldn’t let her.
“Then what’s not bullshit?”
“In the end of the day, you are who you say you are, not what the world says, princess.” He said and walked away.
“I said don't call me princess!”
“And though you say who you are, the world is a big asshole with whole lotta of assholes inside. They will never strop trying to tell you who you are.
Venus couldn’t stop smiling. This man was going to be fun swearing around all day. Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea leaving her mother and becoming her own, assassin or not.
“Oh, sir,” she waved at the Sailor, “My name is Venus by the way.”
“Not impressed.” He said, not looking back.
It was as if someone hit her with a pebble in the face. She swallowed hard. “And you, Sir? What should I call you?”
“Isn't it obvious? You can call me Sailor,” He waved an arrogant, nonchalant, nonsensical hand in the air. “John Long Sailor.”