Aleksandr stood still as a statue as he felt his mother's arms wrapped around him, and for a moment, he felt safe and warm, despite her cold embrace. But Aleksandr knew it was a false happiness, a fake feeling, plastic love, yet.... it's so difficult to squeeze the trigger, the trigger to the gun that he had hidden under his cloak, pointed against his mother's stomach. Aleksandr then closed his eyes and gave a quick squeeze, then with a loud bang, he saw his mother fall on the floor, he dropped his gun, a small Flintlock pistol, old but it was the only thing with a big enough barrel to hold a ball of silver "Mother?" Aleksandr said, the powder smoke clearing, seeing his mother lay on the ground in her own blood, her spine definitely broken "Oh come now, Mother, I know this didn't kill you..."