Ivan Braginsky was not a stranger to the fetal position. He knew it too well for him to admit. With his knees curled into his chest, arms shielding his face from the rest of the world who so coldly looked down on him, he felt as safe as someone like him possibly could.
Thanksgiving break was a blessing and a curse. He escaped school for a week only to have to return to school the next Monday. It was as if the universe was playing a cruel joke on him.
Why was he like this? Why did school frighten him so? Tests were a breeze, and he was far from socially anxious. What else could possibly be so terrible that he couldn't stand the idea of leaving the safety of his bedroom?
The doctors called it Reactive Attachment Disorder. He called it hell.
It meant that getting close to someone was the biggest no-no in the book of his life. And not just physically. They had told him that making friends came with the price of withdrawal. He would need them as if they were air, and just like air, if he didn't have them, he wouldn't be able to breathe. Usually when friends disbanded, all you were left with was broken promises and tears. But Ivan was different. He was left with panic attacks and depression.
"Choose your friends wisely," they warned him. He did them one better; he didn't choose them at all.
People deemed him as shy, as if he chose not to speak to his fellow classmates. In reality, he pushed them away. Not out of hostility but out of fear. Getting close to someone would only hurt him in the end. Just as his parents did those years ago.
They were who he really blamed. They knew that blizzards were dangerous by themselves but even more when they drove through them. It didn't bring them home. It only brought them hypothermia. Their limbs froze, and their blood ran cold. The doctors had tried to revive them, but by the time the ambulance had arrived, they were both human icicles.
Ivan was left with no one after that. No one but his sisters. Being the middle child was bad on its own but having a mental illness and being stuck in a house with Katyusha and Natalia was the icing on the cake.
It wasn't like they were terrible. They were quite sweet. Katyusha was at least. Both just had their quirks. Katyusha was kind and knew how to cheer someone up, but she was quite possibly the biggest crybaby he knew. And while Natalia was pretty, she had horrible people skills, always following around her big brother, driving Ivan to the point of hysteria. But they were the only family he had left. And he was stuck with them whether he liked it or not.
"Ivan!" Speak of the devil. At least it was the tamer of the two devils. "It's seven o'clock. Are you almost ready?"
"No," he mumbled, throwing his blanket over his head. "I'm not going."
"Oh, little brother, you are so stubborn." Without warning or permission, Katyusha entered the room, seating herself down onto his bed. "What's troubling you?"
He scoffed. She asked as if she didn't already know. "The same thing that's been troubling me since I was seven. It's always the same, Katy."
That was all that was ever wrong. No matter how hard his sisters tried to understand his predicament, they never completely would. They didn't have to be afraid of making friends. They had friends, something he hadn't had since elementary school. And he was lonely. But then again, wouldn't anyone be?
Peaking out from underneath his blanket shield, a bit of his silvery blonde hair falling into his violet eyes, he gazed hopelessly up at his sister. "Can't I just stay home? I think I'm coming down with something." He coughed softly into his hand for emphasis, rubbing at a fake soreness in his throat. Katyusha raised an eyebrow, smiling almost pitifully down at her younger brother.
"Nice try," she said, pulling the blanket off of him. "But that isn't going to work, not this time." Rats. Well, Ivan supposed Katyusha could only believe that one five or so times before she finally figured out his ploy. She never was the brightest sunflower in the field. "Now, up, up, up! We've got to leave in fifteen minutes to get you to school on time."
"I mean…" Ivan trailed off, eyes glancing subtly at the clock on his bedside table. "I don't have to get to school on time- ouch!" He yelped in pain as Katyusha tugged on his ear, dragging him out of bed. That was her secret weapon that she had been using on him since he was five. How could he still fall for that?
Yanking him over to stand in front of his closet, she strolled out of the room, proud of her work. "Thirteen minutes!" she sang over her shoulder.
Heaving a sigh, searching through his closet, Ivan pulled out a pair of simple blue jeans and his usual tan sweatshirt. Why attempt to dress to impress when he really wasn't trying to impress anyone? Flipping his favorite white scarf around his neck, running his fingers through his hair, he picked up his school bag, slinging it over his shoulder.
Another bright, sunny day of isolation greeted him as he made his trek down the stairs. Nervously walking into the kitchen, he creeped around Natalia, pleading with the man upstairs that she wouldn't notice him. But no one should underestimate Natalia or her hearing. Not a second before he took a step around her chair was she wrapped around his waist, staring up at him with her vulture-like blue eyes. "Good morning, big brother," she said, voice purring in a deep monotone that only made her more frightening.
"Good morning, sister," he replied shakily, making to move away, only to have her slide out of her seat onto the floor, landing face first on the tile. Though her arms stayed enfolded around him, her grip softened. Regardless of how terrifyingly creepy she was, she was still his younger sister, and he still cared about her, deep, deep down, possibly as far down as his appendix. And that would eventually have to be removed so even farther down.
Heaving her tiny frame up so that she was standing back upright on her feet, he fixed the bow on the top of her head, giving her a slight grin. "You should be more careful, or you will hurt yourself." Perhaps he was playing into her little stalker fantasy, but what could he do?
Cold and startling, as per usual, Natalia's face broke out into a sinister, almost insane, Cheshire cat smile. "Oh, big brother, you are so nice to me."
Ivan gulped. 'Note to self: never help Natalia again.'
.
Just like a dog, Ivan could not sit still in the car but for the exact opposite reason. Instead of wanting to arrive at their destination, he wanted to heave the gearshift into reverse and floor it.
Each day, he went into the large, three storied brick building and felt like nothing more than a prisoner, feet shackled to the floors so that he couldn't escape. Every moment was an unknown chance for attachment. Teachers would pair him to finish assignments. He would have to talk to people, interact with people. What if someone asked him about himself? What if they said something about themselves? They were all too big of risks to take.
There was a point when he had had one friend, simply by force. One of his teachers during his freshmen year saw his intelligent potential and insisted that he tutor one of his struggling students. And those words were the equivalent of a horror story to Ivan.
Toris was a quiet boy, quieter than Ivan, if it were possible. He kept to himself, and even if he did try in all of his classes, he had trouble regardless of his attempts. He had shoulder length, chestnut brown hair and kind, emerald eyes. His voice, when he used it, was soft and rarely raised above a whisper.
And that was what had attracted him to Ivan. He was quirky and outcasted, just as he
was. Though he highly doubted that Toris had the same dumb, friend repelling mental disorder that had cursed him. But at the very least it was a change of scenery from his sisters; and who was to say that this mysterious boy would even like him? Tutoring was strictly tutoring. At first it was.
Toris was irrationally hopeless when it came to basically every subject he took. Ivan figured it was because he was from some European country that he had never heard of. Lithuania, did his teacher say? Whatever it was, it sounded rather wimpy to him. There was only one area that Toris excelled in. Math.
"Math is the same everywhere after all, yes?" he had asked as he hurried through his algebra worksheet, which only took him fifteen minutes out of the scheduled hour they had devoted to tutoring.
"I suppose so," Ivan mumbled quickly, eyes down casted towards his own homework. He had done the same problem three times in a row, but he needed to find someway to distract himself from Toris's uncomfortable stare.
"You do not talk much." Obvious was an understatement at that point. Ivan never spoke to Toris unless it was undeniably necessary. Most of the time, he would just point out his mistake, show him how to do what he had gotten wrong correctly, and then go back to curling himself into his chair. "I do not think I have ever heard you talk until now. Why is that?"
Why did it even matter to him? They weren't friends. Ivan didn't have friends. He was just stuck with him until he got his act together and got his grades out of the failing range.
"Can you not speak very good English either? Are you from another country as well?" Toris asked, leaning in closer. And when did he move so close to him? Ivan could feel his heart against his chest, and he was pretty sure Toris could hear it too. Shyness was a side effect of not talking to, well, anyone. He wasn't sure he knew how to talk to people anymore. Social skills were a mystery. But no one before Toris had even attempted to converse with him.
"No. I was born here," Ivan replied blankly, not looking up from his homework. He hoped Toris would drop it, he hoped that he was that type of person. Sadly, his quiet persona only seemed to be a façade. Behind his soft face was an obnoxious chatterbox.
"Then what are you? Well, I know you are American. But you are something else as well, yes? Everyone is. Like this boy in my biology class, his name is Ravis, he is Latvian. And his friend, Eduard, he's Estonian. Oh! And there's this Swiss boy in-"
"Russia. My parents were from Russia," Ivan grunted through gritted teeth. This kid didn't stop! It was like his mouth was a battery that never ran out of juice.
"Russia is so big and scary! Lithuania is very close to Russia, and my family went there one time. It was so cold, and the people looked so sad, which made me really sad. Not like Lithuania. Lithuania is bright and beautiful!" The day was turning into Ivan's biggest fear: someone was telling him about himself. Never had he bothered to learn anything about a person than their name; less possibility for attachment that way.
He tried his hardest to block out what Toris was saying, struggling to find something else to focus on. Nothing could prevent his words from sticking to Ivan's mind like a fly in a spider web. After they got there, there was no use of trying to get them out; they were stuck.
He was an only child. He favored classic Lithuanian food to the greasy, soggy fast food of America. Basketball was the most famous Lithuanian sport, and he was hoping to join the school's basketball team, even though "you Americans cannot play for shit."
Then there came the most haunted question. "What about you? What are you like?"
The metaphorical wall he had placed between himself and the rest of the world was crumbling before his eyes. He had worked so hard to build it, and after years of mental labor, he had finally come to the painful conclusion that being alone wasn't that bad. There was no escape for him either; Katyusha didn't get out of her college class for another thirty minutes. He was trapped.
"I'm not anything," Ivan answered softly yet truthfully. He really was the definition of nothing. There wasn't much he enjoyed other than isolating himself in his room.
"You must be something," Toris urged. "What is something interesting about you?"
Nothing, he wanted to say, just to annoy the boy more. But in return he would just press him for more. "I like sunflowers." It was the only thing that came to his mind. He had always found the tall, yellow plant beautiful in all respects.
"Sunflowers really are lovely. Though I have only seen pictures. Lithuania is very cold, kind of like Russia, so they cannot grow there."
The next week, Ivan had brought Toris a sunflower. Just the way his face lit up when it was placed in his hands made Ivan give off the slightest hint of a smile. He was falling back into his disease before he even realized it.
With each tutoring session, they talked more and more. Toris did most of the talking, of course, while Ivan just sat and listened. Nevertheless, each time, Toris would strive to get something new out of him. If on impulse, Ivan would comply, and every time it got easier. While he thought it was a good thing that he was able to finally open up to someone without moving closer and closer to the brink of insanity, he couldn't have been more wrong. And realization didn't hit him until it was too late.
Not a month later did he experience how drastic his illness was. Not even grasping just what he was doing, Ivan felt a hollow, empty feeling in the pit of his stomach that he had felt for years. Something was missing. And there was no secrecy as to what that something was.
Climbing out of his window, Ivan had raced down his street, bound for Toris's house. He had a need for him, and if it wasn't fulfilled, madness would take over his entire body. Now, he had never been to Toris's house nor had the two of them even discussed Ivan coming over. But Google Earth really was a marvelous invention. Even after that, Ivan had failed to see how he was becoming his disorder. Toris, the only friend he had, the only one outside of his family who seemed to care about him, blinded him.
Stalking was an understatement at this point. Ivan ascended up the large oak tree just opposite Toris's bedroom, crawling across the branch that lead straight to his window. Tapping on the glass, he waited impatiently, a bright, wild smile set on his lips.
Out came Toris, clad in checkered red pajamas, surprised and dumbfounded at what he found waiting for him. "Ivan?" he hissed, a hint of fear lingering in his voice. "What are you doing here? It is the middle of the night! How…How do you even know where I live? I do not think I ever told you."
Disregarding what he had said, Ivan detached himself from his tree limb and jumped into Toris's bedroom. He took in every sight he could; he needed to know everything about Toris so that he could always feel like he was with him, even when he couldn't be.
"Ivan!" Toris called, quiet enough for his parents to stay asleep but loud enough to get how he truly felt across. "What are you doing here? You are scaring me!"
"I just wanted to see Toris," Ivan explained sweetly, sitting down on his bed. "I missed him. Did Toris miss me?"
"What? Ivan, it is two in the morning! Tell me how you knew where my house was! Or else…Or else I will call the police!"
"Oh, but then they will take me away from Toris. And that will make me very sad." Grabbing onto Toris's sleeve, Ivan pulled Toris onto the bed with him, wrapping both arms around him. "We should stay like this. It's much better being together than being apart."
Toris managed to get a hold of his cell phone and called the police without a moment of hesitation. Luckily, Katyusha had been worriedly searching for her younger brother. After putting two and two together, the police let Ivan go. Not soon after did Toris's parents leave town after hearing how their son had become friends with a "mentally unstable" boy. Ivan figured they were right about that one.
After Toris left, Ivan fell into a deep depression, barely leaving his room. It was as if someone had taken his heart in their palm and cut the part of it labeled Toris out.
The police couldn't just let the stalking of an innocent individual be left unresolved, so they compromised with Katyusha; they found it unfair to arrest a boy that wasn't right in the head. They came to the agreement that he would attend a support group for people like him, all of them having mental issues that made their lives more difficult. He was to report to it once a week, and he didn't dare deny their demand. He could've gotten off much worse.
Still, Toris was the last real friend he had had, and Ivan had hurt him in a way that made his depression only worsen. How could he even think of hurting someone he cared about? When he had gone to Toris's house, his brain had fuzzed over, as if something else entirely was controlling him. Reactive Detachment Disorder didn't allow you to have any more power than it wanted you to have. And because of that, Ivan cut himself off. If he came to care for another like he had Toris, he would only cause them more pain; he couldn't bear that.
The Braginsky's car stopped in the school parking lot. Unlocking the doors, Katyusha turned to look back at her younger siblings. "Have a good day at school, you two. I'll be back to pick you up around three. Natalia, don't follow your brother around all day again. I don't want another call from the principal about that." Leaning back in her seat, arms crossed over her chest, Natalia's face flushed red. "And, Ivan. Please don't worry so much. School really isn't that bad."
"Easy for you to say," he muttered, throwing open the door. He knew his sister was just trying to be supportive, but he couldn't help it; he just wanted the day to be over.
Waiting for Natalia, the two walked through the front doors together. He was pale as a sheet, and his legs were so clearly wobbling as he moved. Returning to school after a weekend was hard enough, but after an entire weeklong break, Ivan was sure he was going to lose it.
"Do not be afraid, big brother," Natalia said, staring up at him. "I will protect you."
Her words didn't startle him as much as they typically would. They even sounded the slightest big comforting, which was weird since it was coming from Natalia. But he would take everything he could get at that point. He even let her hold his hand as they walked. Playing into her game was getting easier by the day. But this time, he was pretty sure he was holding her hand because he wanted to, not the other way around.
To be continued.