Note: My first story to be published. It was written by me in late September as an English assignment. The topic given by our teacher was "This is definitely the best summer yet.", but for publishing purposes I have decided to change the story line to suit myself and gain more freedom in expanding on characters and ideas. I hope it will also make it nicer to read for you. I'd like your opinion, and some positive criticism will be welcomed ! Thank you :)
I faced it yet again . A day in my life, in the conclusion of the Summer season.
So many people look forward to this time of year. Why? I am not quite
sure. There is improvement in the weather, yes, but snow has always
been a companion to me . My soothing comrade , my own therapist. A
break from school, but never a break from the burden I carry.Visiting
foreign countries does indeed sound like an adventure full of
exhilaration, but the realist in me reminds me that it shall never
happen. Pleasant encounters with members of the family? I'd rather
not. We share one similarity only, that is the blood that runs
through our veins. But they don't understand, they aren't humans but
traitors ,leaving us at the brink of losing each and every one of our
limited possessions Summer
has no significance to me. It is like every other day. The usual.
Maybe a period of joy that will be omitted after some time. Maybe for
the inhabitants of Moscow, but as they say, simply not our cup of
tea. Not for the people of Norilsk.
The
sun rays that crept in through the uneven shutters irritated my cheek
, causing me to impulsively turn to rest on my back. I opened a tired
eye, one after the other, and like every other morning would begin ,
I counted the cracks on the ceiling. Nothing has changed apart from
the white paint that started to chip away at the far corner. An
insect crawled from under the crack as I pushed myself up into a
sitting position and rubbed my head, just to feel the pain from
yesterday. My father came home intoxicated and took out his misery on
me. Yet again. It simply meant another bruise and open wound to add
to my collection. The calendar hung lifelessly on the wall as I read,
the last day of Summer break, 31st of August . This date seemed odd
and it's familiarity appealed to me. Squinting at the figures in
green print, it suddenly hit me.
"Ah,
yes. It's my birthday.", I forced a crooked smile onto my lips,
as I left the comfort of my bed and began adjusting the
sheets.
"Dmitry!",
I heard my mother's voice as it echoed across the halls of our rather
empty house, calling out my name. One thing that I detected about her
voice immediately, was it's fake, tedious happiness. She must have
taken into account that today was my seventeenth year on this planet.
My seventeenth year of life, yet not quite living up to what I
dreamed I would be. My slow, fatigued footsteps made the wooden
floorboards creak under my weight. I entered through the doorway of
our simplistic kitchen and found my mother. She was slouched on her
chair, arms positioned so she held up her head, her hair seemed to
cover her face.
"You're
awake,son.", she looked up to meet my grey eyes as I took a seat
beside her.
"I'm
sorry, Dmitry, we won't be having breakfast today. I hope you -"
"He
hit you. Father lashed out at you again.", I cut her off, using
my monotonous matter-of-fact voice.
She
tried to hide her face, but her attempts were miserable. From the way
the light glinted off her face, I could recognize a fresh bruise.
Swollen to the size of a small plum, disgustingly purple in
colour.
"Not
quite.", mother gave me a bitter-sweet smile and to that I shook
my head in disapproval. The woman before me was always an impractical
liar.She moved a mug in front of me, anticipating for me to take it
into my rough palms. I shook it's contents back and forward in a
swift, careful motion. On the surface of the strong black coffee, I
watched my distorted reflection until I placed the mug to my lips,
letting the liquid comfort my tired throat.
Standing
up without hesitation, I abandoned the empty mug in the sink, and
fetched the ancient fishing rod that stood untouched since the last
time I left it there, in the corner of the main entrance. I slipped
on my boots, which I have grown out of a good amount of time ago, and
my father's coat. The stench of alcohol made me cover my nose.
Lastly, I wrapped my most valued scarf around my neck. Placing my
cold hand on the door handle, I felt a slim pair of arms wrap
themselves around my torso.
"Mother,
let me go. Supper won't come to us by itself, yes?", I spoke as
gently as I could. Her head rested on my back and I heard her muffled
reply.
"Dmitry,
you grew up too fast. Much too fast. Go child, but be careful, don't
catch a cold. Lastly, my dear, I wanted to wish you a happy
birthday.", her grip tightened on me, before she let go, and the
chill and breeze of the outside world enveloped me.
I
headed to the lake, taking the path I always did. Norilsk wasn't the
warmest place on earth. Quite the contrary. Although a big city, the
locals, just like us , were drowning in their own poverty. My boots
signalized my presence and the elderly figure hunched over against
the tree, removed it's head from a torn scrap of fabric. Speak of the
devil.
"A
ruble to spare perhaps, young man. That would be wonderful indeed.",
he called to me in a raspy, harsh voice.Silently, I passed, just like
I have done it every single encounter before. I felt his eyes scorch
a hole in my back.
"I
hope you fry in hell, you self-centered, cynical glutton! You have
been consumed by greed!",he called after me.
"This
is hell as it is." I mumbled underneath my nose. I turned a
corner. It was not long until the lake was within my vision.
"A
lovely catch, my son! Splendid! I'm proud of you.", mother
patted my back as I returned home, and taking the two carps from my
hand, she offered me a welcoming smile. This gesture, I tried my best
to donate back to her. I figured I should leave the rest to her.
Mother worked wonders when it came to gastronomy, and I could
guarantee that my stomach would be rather satisfied this
evening.Despite the distress that my mother was forced to confront
for so many years, up until this day, you could stamp the label of
'optimist' onto her. I found her merry moods irritating at times, as
our personalities shared extreme differences. Nevertheless, mother
held my heart. The only thing I lived for, really and truly. Spinning
on her heel, she turned to face me.
"One
more thing I shall let you know! Ivan and Anastasiya passed by
recently. I'm pretty sure they have something in store for you. They
asked for a meeting, you know, the typical place where you stay in
their company.Don't keep them waiting!", she almost
chirped.
"The
chores, mother. I should handle them first.", I looked her in
the eyes.
"Just
leave it be, Dmitry!", she hauled me to my bedroom, hopped out,
and gracefully shut the squeaky wooden doors behind her as she
exited. I glanced up myself up and down twice in the mirror.My skin
was it's everyday white, pale tone and my eyes were rimmed in a blood
red colour .My cheeks and nose were dusted in pink from the
temperature I spent some time in when being outside. I figured I did
not look the worst today and I put all my efforts into trying to tame
my albino hair.Opening the wardrobe, I let out a cough, as a
clustered ball of spider's web tossed itself to the floor. Snatching
a pair of worn out denim trousers and a pull-over inherited from my
father, I was ready to go. I found it amusing, the fact that father's
clothes fit me perfectly. I pictured him as a giant , that found it
hard not to tower over me when I was a child. It appeared to me, that
I had grown to become an enormous man myself.
This
time I chose the route that enabled me to sprint through the
forest.How long have the siblings been awaiting my arrival, I was
ashamed to know.On my track of dodging pine and fir branches I almost
landed with one heavy foot into a corpse of a dead crow.My foot
remained in mid air. No gaudy scars marked it's body, all it's
pieces still intact.Pollution took it's life. Norilsk was always so
abundant in refineries, that each and every one of it's people most
likely suffered from smoker's lungs. Pitiful, that's how I felt for
mother nature, shaking away the thought that I one day will lie stiff
without no life and no soul, leaving behind an empty skin and bone
covered cavity. The density of the forest eased out, and I was
instantly familiar with my surrounding. To my left glistened the vast
field of sunflowers. I inhaled deeply to recover my strength, as
shouts that called me by my name rung in my ears like church bells,
calling me forward. Turning to the right, I spotted Anastasiya and
Ivan. They gestured eager hands for me to hurry to the
meadow.
The
figures of my companions became clearer, as I drew neared with every
step.
"Greetings!",
grinned Anastasiya, as she adjusted her wire-rimmed glasses on the
bridge of her nose, and flicked her long hair,and let it rest on her
left shoulder.
"Long
time no see.", I outstretched my hand towards Ivan, who took it
with a friendly smile as we shook our intertwined palms in unison.
Crouching slightly, I let Anastasiya embrace me, as I placed my hands
around her waist.If I could, I would bet small money that she was
getting slimmer and more brittle with every single one of our
encounters.I felt her warm breath tickle my ear and neck, as she
whispered to me.
"Dmitry,
forgive me.The gift we wanted to purchase for you, was affordable in
our case. For now at least.With all my heart, I wish you a happy
seventeenth birthday."
With
her concluding words, she drew back .
"Yes,
Dmitry, may your dreams come true!", Ivan laughed, taking a seat
on the over-grown grass, placing his
hand on a spot beside him,letting me know that he wanted me to join
him.
"It's
been some time, from the Christmas five years ago. You've taken care
of it, it seems.",Anastasiya pointed a weak finger to the piece
of fabric wrapped snugly around my neck. I glanced down at it. Her
gift for me. It's age began to increase, it's quality began to
decrease, but it's value never changed.Not for me.Some of it's colour
began to fade, and I have spent evenings repairing it when I had the
chance.I opened my mouth to let Anastasiya know my thoughts, yet
instead she spoke for me.
"I'm
glad you still find delight in it.", and I smiled, as the wind
danced around us and rattled through the grass. I looked across to
Ivan who was now in a lying position, sprawling himself out, making
himself comfortable. Catching my gaze he spoke.
"So...it
has not snowed for a solid two months now."
"Indeed.
Surprisingly.", I glanced into the sky, feeling the absence of
cold snowflakes on my face.
"The
unfavorable weather was taking a toll on us all.",noticed
Anastasiya, as she continued to speak.
"Her
depression has seemed to ease out. I guess she finally decided that
time has come to take the bull by the horns. She doesn't run from
people no more, in fact, our mother opened up somewhat.Mother is
seeking a job. After so many years it took us to shake her back into
reality."
Finishing
her little speech, Anastasiya let out a sigh of relief.
"Your
mother is an amazing person, she just needs some encouragement in my
opinion.", I tried sharing the siblings' happiness.
"Some
money management helped.Anna's textbooks for school are complete this
year.", Ivan nodded to his sister to inform me some
more.
"Yes.",
Anastaiya giggled somewhat.
"It
is my dream. To attend college in a big city. To grasp some more
knowledge and whatnot."
That
girl had always been like I had known her. A bookworm with too much
ambition for her own good.
"To
tell you the truth,", it was my turn to speak,"father has
not been drinking to such an extent lately. He's been coming home
conscious .", I entertained myself with the shoelace from my
boots as I voiced my matters.
"Your
head tells me otherwise , Dmitry", Ivan huffed, pinching the
bridge of his nose.
"Forget
it. I'm just viewing my opinion." We lay in silence. A break for
the three of us to reassemble our thoughts. Anastasiya shattered the
little pause.
"Boys,your
wishes and dreams for the near future?"
Her
question confused me and caught me off guard. Is there a future? If I
try maybe there will be a future.Taking my moment to think, Ivan
blurted out proudly.
"I
will enroll in to the army! I will for sure!"
It
struck me. What Ivan said that day, I could not make any sense
of.
"What?No.",
I undercut his winds of pride. He shouldn't be speaking such things.
Not again. Not another victim. And I began to battle with my own mind
and morals.
"Don't
pretend to be deaf, Dmitry.", said Ivan frowning. He sat up. I
saw his face and his eyes at that given moment. They glared daggers
into the depths of my soul, wishing me to prevent sharing my next
contradictions.
"Well,
how unwise.", I shared the obvious contrast between our two
opinions.
"And
my plans, wise or unwise, what are they to you?!",he almost
spat. Anastasiya shuffled to her brother uncomfortably.
"All
I want to say is, you are stupid.I thought you wouldn't fall into the
trap.", the air grew tense as I stared at my friend in
disbelief. Ivan rose.
"I
have a purpose in life. Unlike you.Rot in your own poverty!"
"Oh.
So they influenced you so much ? So much they have turned you into a
sheep ?! You will follow them, and die.For what?! Nothing!"
"I
will serve this land! Die if it is what it takes! Serve my leader.
Leave a mark upon this world!",he grabbed my shoulder , applying
so much force I could see his knuckled turning white, as Anastasiya
stood alert, holding on to Ivan's sleeve.I held perfectly still,
looking deeply into his enraged blue eyes.
"Imbecile!!
He is no leader! He is a weapon of destruction!Your master, and you
his filthy puppet!He's playing with your strings! They have you as
another soldier in their imaginary toy box! Like the many others, you
will regret it! And... and you will remember my words as you wish for
death in the middle of no man's land! A coffin with a corpse inside!
Another present for your mentally ill mother. All in vain!!", I
cried, out of breath. Ivan was furious . There was no
denying.
"Don't
you dare claim my father's death was in vain!"
I
crossed the line and I knew it well. Ivan turned into a beast.
Opposition towards his values pulled that dangerous trigger. The
siblings were long gone when I was lying in the grass, clenching my
nose that uncontrollably flooded my jaw and neck with crimson
blood.The throbbing in my head encouraged me to sleep. But my day was
not over. A few scattered stars blinked at me in the cloud - dusted
sky. I forced myself to stand, finding it difficult to regain any
balance.
"Just...Just
one more thing.", I told myself.
The
field of sunflowers always had grown plentiful. Cautiously, I placed
my step with grace, meandering to the sunflower that caught my
attention. I searched the inside pocket of my coat, and pulled out
the rusting pocket knife. The breeze shook the flowers.They varied in
size. Some big, some small. The better growing ones, raised so tall ,
so magnificent, so rich. The smaller members dying, withering out,
crumbling to pieces,so poor. They were chocked by their bigger
friends. I found that ironical. Kneeling down, I detached my
objective from the ground with extra care.
"A
sunflower deserves her sunflower, yes?"
I
came out into the dimly lit street. The cold biting at every inch of
my exposed skin. Passer-by ladies and gentlemen gave me terrified
glances. My destination not so far, and all the memories of that
unfortunate day not far behind. They rushed back into my mind. That
day of early December, the snow blizzard raged outside...
I
raised the axe , and with full force , split the wooden block before
me. A stock of firewood was necessary for the coming days, something
to warm our bodies as we would sit around the fire. Concluding my
work, I shook my boots from the snow before I entered through the
back door. Placing the wood down, I had a perfect view of what lay
across the halls and into the tight living room.On the couch, father
was resting.He was under the influence as always.Something was
different. An odd chill prevailed throughout the entire building.I
suddenly felt nauseous and claustrophobic. The vodka bottle slipped
out of my father's hand and shattered into pieces on the floor,
redirecting me back to the present reality.The front door was open,
and it was open wide.
At the coat hangers however, lay Olga's
doll, and the bitterness of the situation clenched onto me, making me
choke on my own fear,heavy breath and panic as I raced against the
blizzard with pure difficulty.
My heart raced, my mind gone
wild in these seconds that dreaded for so long.I screamed her name to
the point of pain and exhaustion. My dripping tears were freezing as
they came in contact with the weather of no mercy.My hands and skin
so numb, I thought I might have ceased to exist.
“This
can't be, it can't , my dear Lord it can't.”, ran through my
depressed head.I stopped in place as I noticed my little sister's
form under one of the conifers. My whole body and soul sunk. Time
seemed to pause, but life around me continued. Not the life in front
of me. Olga's face was a disgusting shade of purple as I took her in
my arms. Feeling her palms and wrists, I detected no pulse.Another
river of tears escaped my eyes and landed on her gentle, pure cheek.
This time, they did not freeze. In pure shock and with an empty mind
I watched helplessly as all life drained out of her. Olga was gone.
Her spirit left for the better place, dancing through the night sky,
up to the heavens.I carried the limp corpse all the way back, and two
days later what was left of our dis functioning family was all dressed
up in black. “Aye, an accident...”
I took a deep
breath and let out the story of the Christmas of five years back
escape into the afternoon air as I exhaled.It was routine.
“Come
and visit your sister.”, my mind would often tell me.Upon my
entry through the cemetery gates, I bowed a polite hello the the
matches-and-candle-selling lady I have know for years.You could see
through the expression she wore, that she had been through her fair
share of troubles in her melancholic life. I memorized the route
through the cemetery and to my sister's grave.My steps were delicate.
They all deserved their rest. There was a clearing, and I stepped
into the children's section. I counted the rows of graves,until I
reached the twelvfth one. Now it was five across. The ran down stone
in front of me read my sister's name. Olga Kovrov. The four year old
girl that died in December five years ago. I stood before her. She
was ready to listen, so I spoke.
“Hello. How are you
this fine evening?”, I placed the sunflower elegantly on the
gray stone.
“For you, sister.It's rather beautiful, don't
you think ?”, a pause.
“Yes, you are right. Today is
the day of my seventeenth birthday, also the end of our Summer
vacation. Why thank you ! No need to flatter me, it is all just a
pointless celebration anyhow. Forgive and ignore my appearance, I
angered Ivan unnecessairly...”
“How is my everyday
life, you ask? It's all just the same as always... that same old
poverty. Nothing ever really changes, nor does it have a chance to...
It is a disease. Or maybe that's just the way I look at things. Once
you become contaminated with it, there seems to be no end. You run in
vicious circles, searching for a miracle, a helping hand, a piece of
salvation.”
“What I told Anastasiya and Ivan...It was
just a pure little lie. Father has not spared his visits to the
alcohol cabinet. He rests in it's comfort more than ever these days.
And mother...she is just like she always is.I think I might have
already told you, but the crops grew well. We can fill our stomachs,
and maybe not to the fullest, but beggars can not be choosers,
correct?”
“You are a sensible little lady. I am truly
sorry again, I am afraid I have to cut this visit short. Just
remember , stay calm and at peace, look after yourself. We have carp
for supper tonight. Feel free to join us, Olga.”, I then bid my
sister a farewell, and followed the route back home.
As I
creaked the house door open, I saw the devastated face of my mother,
as she shrunk into a heap of tears over the landlord's letter. A
threat to loose the roof over our heads. She averted her gaze on me,
and crying more than I have ever seen her before, began to mend my
wounded nose.
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