Page 6 of Eternal
Why do I want to cry even more now?
“Hi, you two. It’s been a while,”Years.
I greet them with a rasping, broken voice, stroking them as they lick my boots. “Shh, stay calm. I’ll come back for you later.”
They comply quickly, allowing me to slip past the yard, evading the guards. I dodge two of them and sprint past them, and it’s late, perhaps 1 a.m., but I spot a light in an office upstairs.
Someone is here.
My feet move, my body follows, but my soul and heart feel detached.
The long corridors are less guarded than the exterior.
Why do I feel like it’s a shame? Coming back here, I mean. It’s been so long, they might kill me, they will if I can’t prove who I am.
I advance, only to hear footsteps behind me.
Fuck.A guard.
“Where the hell are you going?” he demands in a heavy Russian accent.
Fuck fuck fuck.
Stay calm, stay fucking calm.
I turn to face him, but his weapon is already aimed at me. “Is Viktor here?” I whispered it like a plea.
I’m not scared, I don’t think I can be anymore.
Violence isn’t new, it’shome, and his gun was just another room in it.
And so, he smiles coldly and says, “I’ll kill you.”
Do it. Please.
I step closer, the end of his weapon pressing against my head, I feel the cold metal against my skin, but I don't care, I need answers. And I’ll have them, no matter what.
“Take me to him. I knew Volk.”
Volk…
His eyes widened in surprise… He knew him too. He murmurs something in Russian to his companion who has arrived, and then nods “Follow us,malyshka,” he instructs next.
I follow, one guard beside me, one behind, watching my every move. They led me upstairs, walking around this home where I laughed, ran, and played with my friends, where I cooked with my mom and saw my brother for the first time.
At the office door, they knock three times, the door creaks open, echoing like a rusty hinge scraping against locked memories in my consciousness.
Cold and fresh air rushes into my lungs.
It smelled good, but it was so foreign compared to the damp, filthy air I’ve been suffocating in for years.
Everything here is too clean, toopristine.
Across the room, he sat calmly and I recognized him instantly. Tattoos, broad shoulders, the essence of familiarity wrapped in a new and different shell.
My best friend.
His eyes meet mine, and for a second, every memory I have of him flashes through me, and I think he sees them too, the laughs, the singing, the flowers, the tears, thelove.
