Jun 5 | The Serial Killer (Part I)

Assigment Day Four: Write about a loss: something (or someone) that was part of your life, and isn’t any more.

And as if that is not enough… Today’s twist: Make today’s post the first in a three-post series.


At first I thought this would be a great opportunity to blog about my dad. He passed away a little over two years ago. Alas… that would be too depressing. And although this loss really influenced me, a) I would end up in tears blogging about it (not a good idea), b) I wouldn’t know how to focus ( I would SOOOOO digress from the subject), and c) I am already wondering how that series could be continued.

So… Funny losses. Killer memories. Ha… got it. Things that disappeared from my life. Through my doing, or that of others.

Part I – Curtains.

Yep. You read that correctly. Curtains.

When I was a little girl, maybe five years old, I was an adventurous young explorer experimenting a lot. Most of my experiments ended in small casualties. One Christmas, I had blisters on every finger of my right hand since I wanted to know how an entire book of matches would burn. Great experiment. Darting flames, a huge burn mark in the carpet, my fingers hurt like hell for weeks, but my curiosity was satisfied. Too bad I had to attend a recorder concert a week later – giant blisters do really well to cover the recorder holes.

Anyway, I digress again.

I couldn’t stay away from flames. I couldn’t stay away from colors (ink/finger paint/water colors) which usually ended up everywhere in my early years (wallpaper IS made for being covered in cave painting-like things, isn’t it?!). And I couldn’t stay away from sharp objects. Due to my tender age, knives were still out of my reach most of them time (unless supervised). But scissors were an entirely different matter. Scissors were needed for crafting, and I really liked to do that.

(Note to self: I think I gave my mom a pretty hard time sometimes… Sorry!)

I also liked to look out my window to see what was going on outside. Although still small enough to stick my head through underneath the curtains and enjoy an unobstructed view, that was too complicated. A genius plan hatched in my mind: Wouldn’t it be great if curtains came with peepholes? All the protection you need, but a great way to sneak a peek nevertheless? The curtains where made of  fishnet-like material, so small holes already provided small peepholes all over. But hey, why have a hole for your eye when you can have a hole for your head? Way bigger, way better.

I immediately proceeded to action, got the scissors, chose the right spot for the best view, marked the perimeter of my face (the hole shouldn’t be too big or too small, after all, but the perfect size), and SNIP… there it was. My window to the world. My private peephole. My lookout. A visible confirmation of how great my idea had been. And just as I had imagined it, but also so much better.

While I took the first look through that magic little ‘curtain portal’, the door opened. My mother had picked the perfect moment to enter. Of course. She caught me in a moment of sheer appreciation for what I had done, and I proudly presented my success. Needless to say, she wasn’t thrilled.

The embellished curtains didn’t stay with me for very long after that day. And I forfeited the right to use scissors and do arts and crafts on my own for some time.

Mainly though, this is the true story of  how I lost the right to have curtains in my room for about the next seven years. And then, no curtains still… but Venetian blinds, made out of aluminum. Pretty resistant and hard to cut through, you know?! 🙂


Read more about things that I destroyed, that tried to destroy me or that simply mysteriously disappeared from my life. What will the next item to vanish be? Top of the list: bonsais and other potted plants, black bread, my sanity, natural colored hair, a flat belly, etc.

To be continued during the #writing101 challenge in June…


The challenge and the original assignment can be found here: Writing 101 – Day Four



  1. Your story about curtains and scissor brings to mind a similar experience I had as a child who found her granny’s razor blade laying around unattended. I literally slit every curtain in the house with the blade. What my mum did to me when she got back from work and saw the havoc I had wrecked is a story for another day. lol!


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