I held my breath. If papa caught me he'd hurt me. It would hurt. I was desperate for my brothers' caring words and soothing brown eyes. I needed him to hold my hand. I was hid away, in the cupboard with the doors facing the wall. If I stayed quiet he might not notice me. I listened to him swear at my Ima. I listened to her swear back. Small, silent tears streamed down my face. It killed me. I saw other families happy bit never my own. Ari and Tali were the only good I had. I depended on them. At my young age I did not believe I could live without them but now I know. You can always live without someone. People are not oxygen or food. They are not essential. Not for survival. Not if you are raised by Eli David. I listened carefully to my parents' conversation, I pleaded for them to either stop arguing or move into another room so I could rush up to the safety of my room and let Ari hold me. I was scared. But they didn't quiet and they didn't move. I sat listening to them hate each other. From the mirror I could see papa's face, so angry. He would slap her or punch her right about now. I didn't want to witness it so I pulled my head down until I was nothing more than a ball and told myself one day it would all be ok.
Two days later Ima dragged us out of bed at quarter to two in the morning. I was tired. I had been forced to listen to them all night in that tiny wooden cupboard. I hadn't been found. Papa stormed out later that night and Ima went to bed. That was when I made my escape. But I was being dragged down the stairs now, Tali was being carried and Ari was rubbing his eyes, slowly following us. Her blue eyes were full of tears. As she let my little arm go and put Tali on the floor it was almost as if she something clicked. She told us to get dressed before she left to put our suitcases in the car. I got dressed in my large bedroom that once felt so real. I wore three quarter length brown cargo pants and a crème long sleeved top. I pulled my black boots on before I glanced about. My room was still full of stuff, full of memories. I took out a bag and stuffed in momentums. The last thing I took was the photo album sitting in secret under my bed. Before I could take my once treasured last letter from an old friend I was dragged out. As we drove away I glance up at papa's window. He just stared looking at us. He just watched his baby girls being taken away. My heart broke in two, I wanted to cry but if I did I would be weak and he would not want me anyway. No tears, that was what I had been taught. It didn't hurt any less though, knowing he was more proud I had not cried. In fact I hardly felt it mattered. My papa was gone and I could never get him back.
I sat in my now small room. It was tiny, barely room for a bed but I managed. I had to manage. Ari and Tali came through, hands locked together. They sat on my bed. I waited only seconds before I jumped forward, wrapping him into a hug. He returned it. Desperate not to feel left out, Tali stood up and wrapped her tiny arms around us. She was only four at the time, I was seven and Ari was ten.
"What is going to happen?" I asked sniffling.
"I don't know Zee," He responded, pulling back, "But we're all going to be ok, right?"
Tali and I nodded. He stood up and helped us off of the bed. "Come on, we will have a walk about."
We did. I tried not to cry. I missed papa. We had hardly been gone a minute. Ari never knew his Abba. Papa was the closest thing he had. I didn't even realise until I hit the ground. A group of kids were laughing at us. Ari helped me up. They all looked between eleven and thirteen.
"Look, it's the new kids on the block!" One of them laughed, "Won't last long here."
"Shut up!" Tali squeaked, "Don't touch my sister!"
They all laughed. Tali didn't understand.
One of the youngest girls reached out to her, trying to push her to the ground. I lunged at her, sitting on her stomach I punched her face until it was red with blood and she was screaming. One of the older boys yanked me off of her and tried to hit me. I blocked it and kicked him before grabbing his arm, twisting it and breaking it. From there on it seemed like a street fight. Even Tali managed to participate. The last few ran away. I tried to run after them but Ari grabbed my collar. They never came near us again.
That first night away Tali and I slept with Ari in his bed. Ari had his arm wrapped around my shoulder, his other arm around Tali's. I had one arm around Tali and the other supporting my head. Tali was asleep and Ari was pretending. I was crying. I was as silent as I had been when I was watching papa and Ima fight. I rubbed my eye with my full hand. Ari opened his eyes.
"Zee don't cry," He whispered. "I hate to see you cry."
"Can't help it," I sobbed into the pillow.
"Please," He pleaded, "You're the strong one. If you're not strong then I can't be either. Please Zee, I depend on you."
I looked into his eyes, shut mine and nodded. "Ok Ari. I promise."
He kissed my forehead and pulled me closer. Tali squirmed in between us but didn't wake up.
"Hay Zee," He whispered one more time, "We are fine, just the three of us. Nobody can take that away from us."
He kissed both of our foreheads one last time before I fell asleep. He was everything I needed in a brother.
It took us almost two weeks to realise Ima was missing. She had been gone every now and then but never a whole fortnight. Ari was worried but he tried not to let on. Tali would have cried and he didn't want that. Tali was now six, I was eight and Ari was eleven. It was Tali's seventh birthday the day we realised we had to do something. Tali ran about oblivious to what we had to do. I pretended everything was fine and treated it like any other birthday. Ari was the one who called Aunt Nettie. He quietly informed me that she would be about an hour. I made a cake for her. It tasted alright. Tali thanked me vigorously for everything.
"There is only one thing that would make this better," She told me, stuffing the last bite of cake into her mouth.
"What," I asked without thinking.
"If Ima and papa were here,"
I caught myself. My throat clogged up as I pulled her close, trying to ignore the pain. Tears rolled down her face.
"They are here." I whispered, "They are here, in your heart, if you believe it."
She nodded as Aunt Nettie arrived and took us away. It was the last time I ever saw the rundown apartment Ima had kept us in.
It was two years before I saw papa next. I thought he had changed. Ima had gone missing little more than a month before. Aunt Nettie watched us before sending us back to papa. Tali ran up to him. She missed him so much. He spun her round and kissed her forehead. He ruffled Ari's hair. He smiled. I just stood. I was about fifteen feet away. I looked at him. I didn't know how to feel.
"My children are home," He smiled, "Little Tali, my son Ari."
I stared at him as if he were crazy. What about me. I got my answer soon after.
"And my beauty Ziva," He paused, "If she would like my love."
I shifted nervously, unsure before I shifted forward slowly and hugged him. He let go of Tali and Ari and kissed me. Tears made their way to my eyes. I had missed my Abba's love. He meant so much to me. I hadn't realised I had missed him. He carried me to the car, holding Tali's hand, Ari walking beside me. He carried his oldest daughter instead of his youngest. Suddenly I thought he may have changed. I shut my brown eyes and allowed me to feel safe. For that moment I was happy.
Ima turned up, almost a year later. Things had gone back to normal. Papa was starting up my training, Ari continually told me what a good officer I could be. Papa never told me I was good. He just told me that 'the last shot missed' when all the others hit exactly on target. I was only ten. But I should do better. That is what I kept telling myself. I was in my room when Ima came back. My room had been left just how I had had it. I heard her opening the door however I knew it was her in the first place. I could tell by the footsteps. Ari and I stood at the top of the stairs as Tali rushed into her arms. Ima's eyes filled with tears. Then papa came.
"Ziva, Ari take Tali up to your rooms to play," He told us.
Tali knew not to complain. She slowly walked up the stairs and followed Ari and I into my room. As we listened to the shouting I put my music on. Ari understood. Tali had tears in her eyes but I refused her to cry. I loved my baby sister and that is why I told her not to, because if she did she would be in trouble. Ima came up to my room about an hour and bit later, tears streaming down her face. She kissed each of us and told us that she had to leave and that she loved us. Tali cried and asked her if she would ever see her again. Ima shook her head and left. That was the last time we ever saw Ima. Tali and I slept in Ari's bed, like we had so long ago.
Papa took Tali and I into the woods one morning, blindfolded. He left us right in the middle and told us to count to ten. We did. When we opened our eyes he was gone. Just like that. All he left was a note in Hebrew saying, 'another exercise my children. Find your way out of the wood'. We walked for hours and hours. We were obviously lost. Tali had sprained her ankle. I was carrying her on my back when I tripped over a tree root. We both hit the ground with a loud thud.
"Zee, do you recognise that tree?" She asked me, rubbing her head.
"Yes," I sighed, "It is the same one we passed over three hours ago.
"Zee we are walking round in circles!" She moaned. "And my head hurts."
I picked her up again. It was eleven pm the next time we stopped. Tali was asleep and we realised we had just walked the same circle. I set her down by a tree. She had only woken up long enough to tell her we were just stopping for half an hour but that half an hour grew into several hours as I myself drifted asleep. I was woken by an owl, hooting loudly. From my watch I realised it was two in the morning. I shook Tali and convinced her to start moving. Her sleepy mood made her forget about her sprained ankle. When we finally reached the corner of the wood the first bit of light was entering the world. Papa had gotton bored long ago and driven home. We had to walk another three miles to get home. Ari met us with a hug. Papa met me with a slap.
"I am disappointed in you Ziva, I expected you to do better."
We went to bed and slept until the following morning, where we were met with yet another exhausting task in the land of the director of mosaad's world.
Two years later. One morning had started off rather the same. Ari woke me, I woke Tali. Papa had already left. We were just about to leave when we heard the explosion. We ran out. I was first, Ari closely followed and Tali trotted behind us, running as fast as she could in the silly shoes she was wearing. I stopped dead when I realised where it had come from. It had come from my best friend's house. He lived just on the end of the street. He was Muslim. We should have known something like this would happen. It was the thing I saw next that hurt me the most. Papa was leaving the destroyed house. Papa had killed them. I didn't even have to think twice to know that he was dead. I turned around, tears in my eyes. Ari pulled me close, my head buried into his shoulder. Tali held my hand and rubbed my back, her eyes were locked onto Ari's. None of us could believe Papa could hurt me like that. Ari took us home, lay me in bed and lay beside me, gently soothing me. Tali curled in beside us. Papa wasn't perfect. That had confirmed it.
I later joined mosaad properly. I was eighteen and I was driving Tali into town. I dropped her off at a pub of some sort. She was meeting someone, an old friend. Her hair had grown long, her sweet eyes sparkled. She was wearing a beautiful, short red dress. The old friend had been more than just a friend, I knew that but I allowed her to have her privacy.
"Pick you up at eleven, yes?" I asked as Tali jumped out.
"Yeah, love you Zee,"
"Love you Tali."
I drove off. I was hardly a minute away before I heard the explosion and I just knew. I just knew like I did when my best friend died. I didn't even bother to drive round; I jumped out the car and ran. My eyes dropped to a girl, singed round the edges, her once pretty dress lay in ruin. I dropped to my and screamed into my hands, tears flowing freely as I kissed my sister's burned head.
"Tali, Ta-Ta-Tali I lo-love y-you,"
I removed her necklace, a silver twisty pendant and slipped it round my neck. I loved my sister more than anything in the world and she was dead. My baby sister was dead.
Ari came back from England to attend the funeral. My Papa didn't say a word, Ari pretended that Eli was non-existent and that he had come to terms with Tali's death but he let his emotions loose one night when he was just with my, curled up on my bed like we did every time someone close died. He stroked my hair and kissed my check.
"Why did she have to die?" He mumbled into her ear.
"I was there," I stated as if it were nothing, "I was dropping her off. We arranged for me to pick her up at eleven but I-but I-at eleven I was picking her up in the morgue."
Ari pulled me closer and we both wept, slowly reflecting on our sister. Still I have not come to terms with her death.
She pulled herself out of her thoughts as she saw him walking down from the director's office. Now she stared at that man, full of bottled up anger and rage. She called him Papa no longer now it was Eli. He had caused her so much pain, he had lost her so many people, so many people she cared deeply about and he felt no remorse. Not even a little.
"Shalom Ziva," He told her, standing at her desk.
Everyone was watching them, interested in how it would turn out.
"Shalom Eli,"
"I did love Ari and Tali," He told her, "I have always loved them. You hate me because I did not show it."
"No," She whispered back, pain evident in her voice, "No I do not hate you but you hurt me you took everyone I loved away from me."
"And I did love you." He told her. He had not even realised his mistake until he saw her face.
Each member of the team was in the room, including Abby and they had all heard his mistake.
"You 'did' love me?" She was close to tears.
She knew he did not care but to hear it made her heart ache.
"Ziva I…" He began but she cut him off by turning her head sharply in the opposite direction. "Shalom Ziva."
There she was left standing, crying even as he left. Her own father didn't love her. If he didn't what chance did she have? Just when she was about to leave Abby bounded forward and locked her in a hug, Tony and Tim joined it and Gibbs came round. They let her go as Ziva looked at him, tears coating her eyes. He stroked her check and told her almost silently,
"He may not love you but we do."
And she was happier with that than with all her father's love in the world. She was happy to be loved by her family. Her real family.
This has taken me ages to write. Please review, much appreciated.