"I'm sorry I broke your vase, mommy, I couldn't get away in time"

"It doesn't matter, sweetie. Just be careful next time."

The mother had her daughter sitting on her lap; the little girl felt guilty for breaking one of her mother's favorite decorations which was given to her years ago. Her mother, however, didn't mind at all. She was aware her daughter was just an infant; she was five years old, so she could ignore this incident.

"I promise I will make you a new one, mommy, it will have lots of colors and you and me in it."

"And I'll love it, sweetie. But for now playtime is over, it's time to go to bed."

"But mommy, I still wanna play…"

"I promise we'll do whatever you want, ok?"

"Pinkie promise?"

"Pinkie promise."

The mother hooked her finger with her daughter's, and the latter happily bunny-hopped her way to bed. Watching her go, in her mind passed everything she had to go through to finally have a family. There were a lot of arguments and fights with other people, and in the beginning, it was a one-sided relationship, an unrequited love. She loved her husband, and she had to go to hell and back to make him fall in love with her again. But in the end, it was worth it: she had a good husband, a nice house, health, a beautiful family, and a daughter she loved with all her soul.

The mother walked her to bed. She looked so cute! When she was her age she was also a cute girl; her daughter looked more like her than her husband's, but there was a thing that she got from him: a pair of beautiful, grey eyes. The little girl hopped on the bed and made the sheets aside.

"Mommy, could you tell me a story?" she asked

"Hm… okay. But only if you promise you'll sleep after."

"Yes!"

"Okay, what story do you want to hear?" The mother asked. They had plenty of children's books, from old classics to more recent.

The little girl answered with joy. "How you and daddy met!"

Ok, she wasn't expecting that. The mother remained silent for a couple of seconds. "Why do you want to hear that?"

"I don't know, I just do. You and daddy love each other so much, and I want to know how everything happened."

The mother glanced at the clock; the time was nine o'clock, still relatively early. Would she have time to tell all the story? Does she want to?

"Yes," she said to herself. "I cannot resist that cute smile. Besides, I'd have to tell her at some point. If she has to know this, it's better if it is from me. Our lives must not be a secret. I just… hope she doesn't see me as the villain for all the things I did… for all the things that happened.

Suddenly, the mother realized something: her house was big and beautiful, but surprisingly silent. For the time being, it was rare that nobody had arrived yet. They had stuff to do, and probably would be here soon.

She took the covers and put them over her daughter, stopping on the neck; the girl smiled calmly, enjoying the moment. She then opened her eyes and watched her mother expectantly, waiting for the story.

"Alright, young lady, what should I do with you after you broke my vase?" The mother threatened in a playful way; she raised her hands and moved her fingers, slowly walking towards her. The daughter hid under the covers, and then the mother attacked; she began to tickle her on the belly, making her daughter laugh and kick to get free. Her attack eventually stopped, so the little girl could take some air.

"Okay, mommy... I'll be careful next time."

That was what set her apart from other mothers; unlike them, it was difficult to make her angry, and whenever her daughter provoked her, she'd be warm and comprehensive with her instead of aggressive. It worked so far, and her daughter reacted positively.

"Alright, enough games for now."

She was still a little worried at the time, but it was nice that someone asked about how she met her husband. When something good happens in your life, you feel an impulse to tell it to somebody, and she had a feeling her daughter would be a good listener.

Still, she felt it was too much to tell in one night; if she wanted to finish quickly, better start now.

Making sure nobody had arrived yet, she caressed her daughter's cheek and kissed her forehead. "I don't know how much I'll take, so get yourself comfy because we sure will stay here for quite some time. This is a long story that includes almost, if not all the people you know."

"Everyone?" the daughter asked.

"Yes. But not everyone did well. Some put obstacles, but in the end we made it through… at least I did. Please don't think bad of me until you've heard all the story." She said. Her daughter was still small, but she knew she was smart.

"Ok mommy."

Sighing, the mother took her index finger to her chin. "Let's see, how did it all start?"

As she tried to remember, hundreds of memories came to her mind, years of memories, feelings and people. She got along with some, not so well with others, and she fought with almost everyone. The decisions we take, as the ones that aren't in our control, are what cause and change the course of our lives, for good or bad.

Were the decisions she and her husband took right? Well, that remains to be seen.

"Okay, I think we can start with this…" Preparing herself mentally, and under the expecting gaze of her daughter, she started.

"Once there was a house where ten sisters lived and fought over everything. They could be peaceful one moment, and fight at the other. That was how their relationship was. They all had stuff they liked to do, and rarely they could do them with someone else. But they had a brother, one single brother that sacrificed his time to please them. Maybe that's where everything started, and for me and for everyone else, caused our lives to begin…"