1. Chiara Menegazzi
150011926
BS11006
1
PURPLE-BLUISH SHADES
I had grown up surrounded by crime. My mother died. She was beaten by my father. He did not love
her. You cannot love someone if you show violence to them, even if it happens once only. And that
night I got revenge. I committed a crime, not on my father, of course not. That bastard had
disappeared from my view, since that time, horrendous time, when I had just recently turned six,
the number of the devil. That was the reason why I was different from everyone else.My lifebecame
ruined and my brain psychologically damaged in its interior, deeply inside. I started to have
nightmares, to fight monsters, horrible creatures and reality. To overcome all of this I prepared an
army, in which I was the only member. Alone. Failure by failure I learnt to stand up to fight, thanks
to the crime books I found in the library of the castle. They were not normal books, because the
reader would support the killer side, instead of the victim side. That is how I got my instructions and
how I chose to dedicate my studies to science. I had my older host sister, the only person I could
really trust and talk to, who was an expert in botany and zoology, and she taught me a lot about
that, in a castle in which I spent thirteen years of my life, until that fact happened.
I fell in love with my adopted brother, but love makes things harder and consume you. It is like as
been on drugs. Your brain does not think straight, but it diverges the way you should look at things
and react, like those alpha particles that are launched and then scattered once they encounter a
thin golden foil. However, David did not treat me well. It was not only him in the house. He was just
like his parents, cold, selfish, vain, and not generous. I did not know the reason why I felt in love
with him, as he had nothing you would look for in a man. However, I was not ordinary and had never
experienced Romeo and Juliet’s eternal love, poetry’s typical love. The love I felt for him was
obsessive and at the time did not leave me alone, torturing me, day and night. Additionally, he had
a girl. His girlfriend, Claire, was the opposite of him: nice, quiet, patient, kind and generous. A
genuine creature, a naïve spirit living in this cruel world. As I said un-required love can drive you to
actions, in which only your irrational part is involved and responsible for making the rational one
fade away, and the moment I decided to kill her was the consequence of allof this. I felt anger which
diffuses all over me; I felt rejected and not loved, just like my mother.
Orphans were usually entrusted by an intensive care school of priest and nuns, who would take
responsibility upon their education. Fortunately, when I was left alone, I had a big amount of
hereditary money from my mum side,who had noble origins and thus I was adopted by arich family,
who lived far away in a land called Moldova, East Europe. The castle was mysterious and I, as a little
orphan child, did not know what to expect from life, from the years yet to come. My new family
showed me my small bedroom, which was a gloomy dark hole in the loft of the castle. I never felt
wanted or at home there. I was constantly assigned housework to do during the day, while at night
time I was not allowed to leave my room at anytime and to wander around the castle. I had to serve
meals and drinks at the table every dinner. My education was limited as I did not have accessed to
the library, which in the end became the place I used to spend my sleeplessness nights in. I know, I
broke the rules but that was the only way I could indirectly be informed of what was happening in

2. Chiara Menegazzi
150011926
BS11006
2
the outside world. No one ever caught me there and I kept my little secret within myself only, not
trusting even my beloved sister. My adopted sister, Anna, was the only one who looked after me
and who wanted me to be part of the family, but as all children she was subdued and had to obey
her parents. She taught me a lot about her studying field, which covered manly botanical studies.
She used to take me in the garden and teach me all she knew about gardening, how to grow a plant
by burying seeds and what to do in terms of feeding it and keeping it alive. She explained me that
the soil had undergone a high degree of deforestation in the last few decades, which had brought
the land to the ‘black soil’, which meant highly fertile and moisture-retentive. My interest and
knowledge about plants were enlarging, and suddenly I started thinking of growing my own plants’
culture, but hiding it from the eye of everyone in the house. I stole a few seeds from Anna’s and
created my small garden at the very far back of the garden where I knew no one would have gone.
The letter was sent. It was an invitation to lunch, for two months later. He never invited her over
before, which meant only one thing: he was going to propose to her. Definitely.A marriage proposal.
A minute of silence before my heart almost exploded. My temper was at the edge. I had to do
something, make a plan, and be quick and sly. My hands were unsurprisingly firm and cold when
that night I entered the library. I had been unconsciously prepared for this for a while. That time I
spent hours only finding books about poisoning. Nothing in that library was related to poisons or
venoms, except for the shallow descriptions of a small bunch of poisons in those old crime books I
had read. However, with the exception of the inspiring dark, twisted and gripping side of their
stories, they did not satisfy me. They lacked of specific scientific poison’s contents. I sat, reflecting.
‘Perhaps, a more rapid, more forward, and less painful way, which would save you from the pain of
looking in here, would be stubbing her. Yes. Indeed. That would make everything easier, and less
time consuming - I talked to myself - and perhaps there would be less chance of failure.’ I
immediately swept that thought out of my mind. It was ridiculous. I wanted it to be painful and
slow. I wanted her gentle smile to vanish. And I was eager to take the risk.
It was almost noon when that thought struck me. ‘Monkshood, Aconitum Napellus! Of course’. It
was the plant Anna was terrified of. I remembered I got soon fascinated by this plant as she was
warning me about its toxicity and danger, which prevented her from planting it in the castle’s
garden. She lurked behind my back as I was looking at its seeds closer and closer: “Olivia, be careful
with Aconitum plants, the devil’s helmet. They contain a large quantity of highly toxic chemicals,
which can lead, eventually, to death. My parents do not know I possess these seeds and I would be
probably banished if they knew of my inconsiderate behaviour”. I recalled her telling me the old
myth of Hercules believed to have brought the plant on Earth by robbing Cerberus from the
netherworld, whose rage had been so intense that saliva was transformed in aconite. She talked for
hours that day, propelled by my continuous questions.

3. Chiara Menegazzi
150011926
BS11006
3
I looked at my dress. For one time in my life, I felt comfortable. The dress perfectly fitted me, it was
tight at the waist with a symmetrical bow wrapped around in an elegant way. As my eyes scrolled
down, the dress widened more and more until covering my feet.
Something tapped on my shoulder. It was Claire. I suddenly shivered as my body turned cold and
stiff, like when a hedgehog is being touched or threated. I wished I had sharp quills too, for a
moment. She asked me if she could help me adjust the padding of my shoulder, which was coming
out of its place. I denied. I showed her a signof compassionate smile, before she left the room. Then
I patiently fixed it. The reflection of me on the mirror reminded me of the blurry memories of my
mum wearing it at her engagement dinner; the red of that dress, the symbol of love and passion.
And not only. I whispered to that image: ‘You would be proud of me, mum.’
I was called a second later by my faithful sister. They wanted me to serve food, as usual. Before
reaching my guest I took the chanty white gloves. They were absolutely essential. The cloth was
filled to the brim. Silver trays were filled with beef, pork, potatoes, cabbage and so on. The typical
food of Moldova. I was leaned on the wall at the back of the table, observing the movements and
gestures of my guest. Claire was the only one talking. Her voice was a hurricane in the desert. She
was breaking the silence we were all used to live with, including me, only since I turned six. David
did not stop looking at her. He was cheering her positive conversational attitude, and thankful to
her for bringing energy to that dead house. I imagined him comparing her to a lifeline. On the
contrary, he did not show any gratitude to me for being there or did not even reserved me any
glance. It was time for dessert. I walked slowly, with my back erected, and my chin lifted up in a
provocative manner, focusing on my steps.‘Hurry, Olivia.Claireis waiting’ -the voice of my adopted
mum echoed in the hall. As my walk turned into a steady and quick march, my last step resulted in
a slow motion trip over her, in which my nail cut some skin out of her finger.
David’s face suddenly turned red. His expression was furious. I loved him even then. I gave my
apologises to her, and I offered myself to take her out in the garden for a walk and some fresh hair.
No one doubted about my intentions. My foolish parents were impressed and without insisting
agreed with my proposal. I took Ms Claire’s hand and guided her into the labyrinth of the garden.
She was quite. Our roles had exchanged. Why she was silent, I chose to talk without interruption,
so to drive her into a confusion state of mind. We stopped just before entering my garden. The plant
was there, exactly as I left it, as tall as 39 inches and coloured with a strong purple-bluish tint. Claire
noticed it immediately and she got stunned by its appearance, as the plant was in the middle of the
garden. It was the tallest plants there. Perhaps there was something we had in common, after all.
We stood beside the plant for a while. I ripped off two of its leaves, and told her to unfold her bare
hands. I delicately laid the leaves on her still fresh open cut. “This is my way to ask for forgiveness.
An old myth foretells to rub them against your palms for about two minutes. It will bring luck into
your life”. I said.

4. Chiara Menegazzi
150011926
BS11006
4
A few hours had passed. We were sitting around the fire, in the living hall. They were exchanging
superficial conversations. Claire was invited to stay over night, as a storm was about to break out. I
was lost in thought. Then something brought me back to reality: Claire collapsing on the deckchair,
soon after standing up. She was all of a sudden looking ten years older. She looked pale and
physically weak. David grabbed her arm firmly. He shook her. A miserable, suffocating, feeble voice
startled me: “I dooo not feeeel very…”. She did not complete the sentence. She rushed towards the
restroom, followed by David, who shouted while pointing his finger at the kitchen: “Someone brings
some water and napkins, for goodness”. I offered myself to do so, and from that moment I started
acting. All my gestures were fake. If from the outside I looked undeniably upset, in my inside I was
craving for her to die. I was the only one that knew what was happening, even though I did not know
how. I entered the bedroom. Claire was sat on the side of her bed with her arms crossed in a hug
and her torso double bent on her thighs.A tank had been put on the floor besideher bed. Her mouth
looked dry. She was seeking water. I poured it down her throat. The shortness of her breath would
block her from speaking. She was repeatedly touching her mouth and hands.
The doctor from the closest farm arrived one hour later. She was lying on the bed, her whole form
giving weak signs of life. He measures her pulse. “Forty beats per minute”- he commented. His
attempt to give her a few medical herbal leaves to chew, together with some brandy, failed. Her
mouth looked still, as if no breath was coming out of it. He then touched his forehead, no sign of
fever had appeared. It was a warm summer night, but she was shivering when the doctor covered
her with a wool blanket.
An hour later the numbness of her face propagated all over her body, like a virus does. Her eyes
were directed upon the ceiling. They were suspended in the air. In the room there was silent as if
they had all given up on the attempt to save her. We thronged around her, powerless of help or
alleviate that pain. Half an hour later she was dead. Doctor Moody concluded that she died of heart
attack. He took his hat off and so did David, who was devastated. Everyone else was keeping mute
at the end of the room. A tingle of excitement spread though my body.
Those following days were traced by a lump of infelicity. Those following days were obscure. The
mystery of her death tormented everyone. After two weeks the autopsy of her body revealed a case
of poisoning with aconite. Detectives examined every room in the castle. Nothing related to that
plant was found. Even in the garden there was no sign of Aconitum Napellus, the devil’s helmet.
A year later I decided to visitMoldova again.After all,I spent thirteen years of my life in that gloomy
land. News about the crime were still on everyone’s lips. It came to the fore that soon after the
murder Miss Anna Szerszenowicz was banished because of suspicion murder. She possessed a few
aconite seeds in a hidden corner of her bedroom. She was lucky she came from a rich family.