Here Beside Me

Note: The italicized words at the beginning of each chapter are the lyrics to a song that are meant to correlate somewhat to the story.

Chapter One: Singing in the Snow

I'll show you worlds you've never seen. The sun and moon and shadows.

***

I walked with purpose through the crowded London streets, the basket I carried bouncing against my side. I thought if I walked faster I wouldn't feel so unbearably cold, and it worked…a little. I was starving, my stomach grumbling as if to say, "feed me please!" I hoped that if I did well today I would make enough money to purchase some soup and bread. If not, it was off to the soup kitchen where long lines and not enough food to compensate them meant not always procuring a meal.

As I neared my spot I noticed little white flurries making their way to the ground. Snow. 'Great,' I thought bitterly. 'Now I'll be freezing and wet.'

I marked the date in my head. November 29th, 1910. I always liked to keep track of the year's first snowfall. I didn't really know why. I loved snow, although in London, the snow looked more gray than white half the time.

I had made it to my spot. Luckily there didn't seem to be any other performers out. 'Good. No competition.'

I placed my basket on the ground and cleared my throat. I hoped my numbing lips wouldn't affect my performance. Then, I sang.

I had decided on "O Holy Night". It was near enough to Christmas, and the first snowfall had put me in the holiday spirit. Tons of people bustled by, but none of them stopped. A few glanced my way but kept walking. Still, I sang on. All it took was for one person to stop and listen, and usually others would follow.

Finally, a man who appeared to be in his thirties stopped. He stood close to me, and as he listened to me sing, he stared at me with a creepy smirk on his face. It sent a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with the cold. I glanced at him with a fierce look in my eyes, hoping to wipe that sick grin off his face, but my harsh look only seemed to have amused him. He crept up closer to me and dropped a couple of coins in my basket.

'Move along now,' I thought.

Instead, he said in a low voice, "I'd like to have an O Holy Night with you. Although, I don't think it would be very holy."

I wanted to slap him. How dare he! Did he think I was some prostitute? I would never sell my body to someone for money. Not even when I was at my hungriest did I ever consider doing that.

I didn't slap him, however. That would have only inflamed the situation. Instead, I looked him straight in the eyes and started singing "Amazing Grace" even though I hadn't yet finished with the other song.

'There,' I thought smugly. 'Let's see him pervert that song.'

He smirked at me again then much to my relief walked off.

However unsettling as that man's presence had been, it turned out to be rather fortuitous because my change of song seemed to have drawn more people to me. I soon had a small crowd gathered around me, and my basket was collecting more coins. 'I might be able to buy a cup of hot apple cider as well!' I pondered with pleasure.

I sang several more Christmas songs and even a Russian folk song that my mom used to sing to me when I was little.

When the moon had replaced the sun, I decided I was done for the day, and I clutched my basket to my stomach with pride. I would eat that night!

I started my walk toward the restaurant and decided to take a shortcut down an alley. It was dark and deserted, but I didn't scare easily, so I walked happily on as if I were prancing through a meadow on a sunny afternoon. I heard footsteps behind me and my meadow become a little less sunny. I quickly swerved my head around and saw a lanky, disheveled looking man right behind me. When I turned back around another shorter man was in front of me.

"'Hello, missy," he said in a voice that slithered like a snake.

I said nothing but turned back around only to find myself face to face with the other man. I knew I was trapped. They cornered me against the wall.

"That's a pretty basket ya got there," said the taller one. "You wouldn't mind if we took a peek inside, now would ya?"

The short one yanked the basket from my grip and looked at the coins inside with more greed than a lion stalking its prey.

I wondered if they would kill me, and I didn't even care so much about dying. I just feared I would die hungry.

I wasn't about to go down without a fight. I grabbed the basket almost causing the man to lose his grip. "Give it back," I demanded.

We played tug-of-war with it for a second before his friend slapped me straight across the face. I let go instantly, falling to the ground. My face was on fire with pain.

"You got alotta nerve," the short man said.

I had a lot more nerve than he thought. I kicked him hard in the shin, and he dropped the basket, yelping in pain. I reached for it but the tall man shoved me up against the wall and put a knife against my throat. I whimpered in fear.

"You're not gonna live long enough to regret that," he hissed.

I was really going to die. I couldn't believe it. I thought of my father and mother and how I would soon be with them.

Then, in the blink of an eye the man's face was slammed against the wall, causing him to drop the knife. A different man stood in front of me, and before I could discern his features, he quickly grabbed the dropped knife. The shorter fellow was recovering from his shin wound, and seeing what had happened to his friend, he made his way toward my unknown savior. My rescuer quickly throttled him with one punch. Both men weakly stood up looking dazed.

"Get out of here right now before I decide to kill you both," he said, his voice like steel.

They hobbled off without a word.

My rescuer stared after them, his features twisted in anger. He turned toward me, and they instantly softened. I looked down, still a little afraid.

"Are you all right?" he asked with concern.

I nodded meekly then lifted my head to look at him. "Thank you."

He blinked in surprise and seemed taken aback. I figured my face must have been marred from where I was hit, but instead he said, "Your eyes". His voice held such awe. It was the first time in my life someone had mentioned my eyes with admiration and not derision.

I had to admit they were somewhat unusual. They're green, bright green, like two emeralds glittering in the sunshine. That may sound more pretty than unusual, but it's not just the color that makes them odd, it's the shape. They are astonishingly cat-like. My mother used to say that my eyes must have come from another world, that they were hypnotic and more than a little unnerving. I loved my mother but her comments stung. I received no better attentions from my peers. They would say that my eyes could bewitch the devil himself, and I was soon dubbed "freaky green eyes". As if having cat eyes weren't strange enough, I had dark ebony hair to go with it. I literally looked like a black cat in human form. My father who tried and failed to be a little more kind than my mother had said that I was beautiful but so strange looking that no one would ever notice. As criticizing as my parents may have seemed, they praised me in practically everything else from my singing to my bravery to my intelligence. No one's parents are perfect and mine were no exception, but I would gladly have listened to them tease me if only to be with them again.

The man seemed to have recollected himself. "Are you okay to make it home?"

"Yes," I replied quickly.

"Let me walk you there."

"I suppose you can. Although…truthfully, I have no home."

My confession didn't seem to surprise him. "No home, then. So, where do you stay?"

"A poor house if there's any room available."

"What about your family?"

"I have none. I've been on my own since I was eight."

He stared at me. He seemed to be contemplating something. His gaze unnerved me a bit, but I stared right back, refusing to seem intimidated.

He spoke. "You're not gonna be on your own anymore."

"I don't understand."

"I live in a boarding house. There's a room available, and I'll pay to let you stay there."

I was confused by such unselfish kindness. "Why would you want to do that? You don't even know me, and no offense, but you seem barely able to afford to take care of yourself."

It was true. Now that my nerves had calmed down, I was able to get a better look at him. He was tall and lean but still muscular, and he had brown hair tinged with a sunny gold. His clothes, however, were obviously well-worn and cheap. He was poor just like me. However, I had to admit that in spite of his less than polished appearance, he was very handsome, a proverbial diamond in the ruff. He was probably the most attractive man I had ever laid eyes on. The thought my face grow warm, and I prayed I wasn't blushing.

His voice interrupted my thoughts. "I could afford it, and as for why I'm doing this, I have no idea. But I feel as though I would regret it forever if I didn't."

'What a strange yet fascinating man,' I thought.

Still, despite his appealing offer I felt too proud to accept it. "Thanks but no thanks. I can take care of myself."

He raised his eyebrows dubiously. "Yeah, you looked like you were taking care of yourself earlier."

I looked down embarrassed, but I could still feel his eyes on me. "What's your name," he queried.

"Kristana Volkoffsky."

"You're Russian."

I smiled at him sardonically for pointing out the obvious. "What gave me away?"

"The name, the accent, the pride."

I lifted my chin. "Better to be proud than ashamed."

"Better to be humble than complacent," he retorted.

His words had made me feel humbled. I dropped my chin. It seemed to me that this man was wise beyond his years, and in that moment I longed for him to share with me some of that wisdom. "I told you my name, but you have yet to tell me yours," I stated.

"Jack Dawson."

"Well, Jack Dawson, I think I'll take you up on your offer."

***

It was all settled. I was in a small room lying on a small bed. Jack had taken care of the necessary arrangements, and I now had a permanent place to stay, a home.

I heard a knock on my door. "Come in."

Jack opened the door and walked into the room. "I just wanted to see how you were settling in."

"I'm settling in great. I don't know how to thank you for all this."

"You just did." He sat himself down on the lone chair in the room. "You know, I was listening to you sing earlier. You were amazing. I thought I had died, and you were an angel singing me to heaven."

I smiled at him suspiciously. "You lie."

He gave me a devilish grin. "On occasion, but I'm not lying now."

I couldn't help but laugh. "That's very honest of you."

"How strange to be thought honest for admitting that you lie."

I rolled my eyes in amusement. "You're strange."

"I should hope so," he smirked. "Where in Russia are you from, anyhow?"

"St. Petersburg."

"I've been there."

My face lit up with the joy of knowing we had both shared St. Petersburg beauty.

"You miss it don't you?"

I sighed longingly. "Very much. Sometimes if I imagine hard enough I can almost see the St. Petersburg Cathedral, but I think what I miss most of all is the snow."

"It's snows in London. Heck, it's snowing right now."

"You know as well as I do that the snow in Russia is not the same as the snow in England."

He nodded in understanding.

"Have you ever listened to the snow?" I asked.

He looked at me in surprise. "I wasn't aware snow made a noise."

"It does. It's like a whisper, and what it whispers to you in Russia isn't the same as what it whispers to you here."

I knew I might have sounded a bit crazy, but somehow I knew Jack understood, and it wasn't just because we had both been to St. Petersburg. It was because I viewed things not as I saw them but as I felt them, and I could tell that he perceived things in the same way.

Jack was quiet for a moment, letting my words fully permeate like a flower soaking up water. "You'll see it again. I promise you that. Anyway," he stood up. "I think I've bored you long enough." He left the room before I could even say goodbye.

Later that night as I lay in my bed as comfortably as a bear getting ready to hibernate for the winter, another knock came to my door.

"Are you still up?" It was Jack's voice.

"Yes. Come in."

He walked in holding a piece of paper. "I got something for you."

I perked up like a dog that had spotted a cat. "For me?'

He nodded and tossed the paper on my bed. I picked it up and my mouth opened in shock. It was a beautifully magnificent drawing of St. Petersburg, the cathedral's swirling frosting-like domes peeked out of the skyline. It was even snowing in the picture, a powdery blanket of flakes covered the ground and little flurries flew all about. I felt transported like I was really there. It seemed to sparkle before my eyes, although this was impossible since it was done in charcoals. It wasn't just a drawing of St. Petersburg. It was St. Petersburg.

"Jack," I said, finding it difficult to not cry. "This is wonderful. You've captured it perfectly." I couldn't even look at him as I said it. My eyes were too fixated on his drawing.

"I tried. I told you you'd see St. Petersburg again."

"Yes, you did." I managed to tear my eyes from the picture. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'm glad you like it."

I placed his work of art beside me and ran my fingers along it as lightly as drawing a line in the snow. "So, you're an artist."

He shrugged. "I try."

"I hope you're starving."

The corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. "Constantly."

I grinned. 'How can one person be so thoughtful?' I wondered.

"Anyway, I just came here to give you that. I really need to get some sleep. It's about ten minutes till midnight." He made his way toward the door. "Goodnight, Kristana," he said before closing it.

"Goodnight," I whispered.

I knew I should try to get some rest myself, but I didn't want to sleep for fear that I would wake up from the dream that this moment of reality had become. I carefully folded the drawing and placed it under my pillow. I lay down unable to close my eyes. All they could see was St. Petersburg right before them.

But like a slow working poison, sleep eventually takes over the body, and right before I succumbed to it, the vision of Russia was replaced with Jack, and I realized something. This realization made me decide that no matter what happened, I would keep his drawing with me always.

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