by Ivan stomped down the stairs with only socks on his feet. "Mother!!" He shouted, Russsian bitting the air, "Where are my-" He turned once he reached the last step and sighed. Natalya sat on the couch, glaring at him with hate and tears in her eyes, and his new boots on her feet. He was going to be late... "Talya..."
"No."
"No what...?" He sighed, craning to look out the window. The van hadn't gotten there yet,
if he hurried he could still eat-
"I'm not letting you leave." That's what it was... He groaned and slumped over to the couch. "You're not leaving me like Papa did."
"I have to go, Natalya. Everyone knows I have you - You knew this was coming." She was so small, she almost disappeared under his arm. Part of him hoped she always stayed small, and the other hoped she'd just grow up already.
"Then I'm going with you." He snorted and shook his head. "I can fight!! And I can fix things, I programmed old school hydraulics last week!"
He shook his head more fervently, "Getting into fist fights at school and reading a manual won't help a rebellion group. No is no, no gimme my boots." She pulled up her legs and sat on her feet, trapping his boots under her butt. He sighed again and rubbed his face. She was acting like a four-year-old. His uncle left his family and disappeared eight months ago, but it wasn't Ivan's fault he was leaving now. This had been planned for more than a year.
But then he heard her sniffle, "You know what she does, Ivan."
He picked up one of her hands, "Is that what this is from...?" But she shook her head.
"No... I got mad trying to hotwire the truck-" He straightened, about to go off on her, "She started throwing things!! I just drove down the street..."
"You're fourteen!"
She sat up and pressed her nose to his, "And a half!" Again, she glared at him, even with the tears streaming down. "She's gonna hit us - You're the only one she's afraid of now."
The honking of a horn in the driveway made his head snap up. "Blyat. Natalya, I need to go, I need my boots." She didn't move. "Natalya!!"
She crossed her arms, "What am I supposed to do when she tries to hit me?!"
He groaned, "Here, come here." He twisted to face her and placed his hands on her shoulders to turn her as well, "If she ever touches you or your brothers," He moved slowly, showing her how to throw a good punch, "Do this. At worst, it'll knock her on her butt and get you some time to get the hell out of there." She mimicked him like she always did when he taught her something. She was a fast learner; That would be the thing to save her life. "Good... Really good, Rybka."
She let her arm drop, and this time she looked up at the honk. The angry look on her face melted. She finally relinquished his boots. He caved and gave her another hug. "Everything will be fine, baby. I won't be gone forever, you know."
He screamed and threw the datapad against the wall. The bitch... "Cyka!!" He slammed his fist into the metal platted wall, not giving a damn about the pain. He punched to his heart's content, only getting louder and louder. "Cyka, Cyka, CYKA, CYKA!! BLYAT! CYKA BLYAT!"
His rage had been spent, for now. He fell back onto the bed. Not Natalya...
The datapad flickered behind a shattered screen: "-In critical condition after her mother pushed her in front of a city bus. All of her children have been put into foster care after a violent incident involving the seventeen-year-old Natalya and hospital staff and security, who since the incident, had fallen into a coma after being administered Haloperidol. Doctors are not sure when, or if, she will wake up. Her testimony is crucial in the case against her mother-"
"No."
"No what...?" He sighed, craning to look out the window. The van hadn't gotten there yet,
if he hurried he could still eat-
"I'm not letting you leave." That's what it was... He groaned and slumped over to the couch. "You're not leaving me like Papa did."
"I have to go, Natalya. Everyone knows I have you - You knew this was coming." She was so small, she almost disappeared under his arm. Part of him hoped she always stayed small, and the other hoped she'd just grow up already.
"Then I'm going with you." He snorted and shook his head. "I can fight!! And I can fix things, I programmed old school hydraulics last week!"
He shook his head more fervently, "Getting into fist fights at school and reading a manual won't help a rebellion group. No is no, no gimme my boots." She pulled up her legs and sat on her feet, trapping his boots under her butt. He sighed again and rubbed his face. She was acting like a four-year-old. His uncle left his family and disappeared eight months ago, but it wasn't Ivan's fault he was leaving now. This had been planned for more than a year.
But then he heard her sniffle, "You know what she does, Ivan."
He picked up one of her hands, "Is that what this is from...?" But she shook her head.
"No... I got mad trying to hotwire the truck-" He straightened, about to go off on her, "She started throwing things!! I just drove down the street..."
"You're fourteen!"
She sat up and pressed her nose to his, "And a half!" Again, she glared at him, even with the tears streaming down. "She's gonna hit us - You're the only one she's afraid of now."
The honking of a horn in the driveway made his head snap up. "Blyat. Natalya, I need to go, I need my boots." She didn't move. "Natalya!!"
She crossed her arms, "What am I supposed to do when she tries to hit me?!"
He groaned, "Here, come here." He twisted to face her and placed his hands on her shoulders to turn her as well, "If she ever touches you or your brothers," He moved slowly, showing her how to throw a good punch, "Do this. At worst, it'll knock her on her butt and get you some time to get the hell out of there." She mimicked him like she always did when he taught her something. She was a fast learner; That would be the thing to save her life. "Good... Really good, Rybka."
She let her arm drop, and this time she looked up at the honk. The angry look on her face melted. She finally relinquished his boots. He caved and gave her another hug. "Everything will be fine, baby. I won't be gone forever, you know."
He screamed and threw the datapad against the wall. The bitch... "Cyka!!" He slammed his fist into the metal platted wall, not giving a damn about the pain. He punched to his heart's content, only getting louder and louder. "Cyka, Cyka, CYKA, CYKA!! BLYAT! CYKA BLYAT!"
His rage had been spent, for now. He fell back onto the bed. Not Natalya...
The datapad flickered behind a shattered screen: "-In critical condition after her mother pushed her in front of a city bus. All of her children have been put into foster care after a violent incident involving the seventeen-year-old Natalya and hospital staff and security, who since the incident, had fallen into a coma after being administered Haloperidol. Doctors are not sure when, or if, she will wake up. Her testimony is crucial in the case against her mother-"
