Same Old Poverty

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.