CHAPTER ONE
BLOOD: (blud), n. 1. The fluid, usually red, circulating in the heart, arteries, and veins of most animals 2. The essence of life 3. Kinship; family relation
Natalya Braginsky was crazy. At least that's what they told her. She was crazy, so here she was picking at the musty carpet, surrounded by people who were either suicidal, tried to burn their family alive, were molested by their uncle in second grade, or all three.
Natalya had been at the World Therapy Home for only a week. She was sure she was going to be here for the rest of her life, since her parents had instructed them not to let her go until her 'problems' were completely gone. There isn't a problem, the brunette thought, hugging her knees, The rest of the world is the problem. The girl took a deep breath, trying to clam herself down.
"Natalya, is there anything you want to say?" the group therapy leader, Ms. Chelles asked, smiling softly. "It seems that there's something bothering you." Ah. Group Therapy. She had forgotten about that. One of the other kids there, Matthew, had just told everyone how he had felt, standing on the rooftop, the night he tried to kill himself. The brunette shook her head. "No." she muttered. Then, looking past his blonde, curly hair, reaching Matthew's soulless eyes, she pierced him with her icy glare. "I don't care." Natalya said coldly. That was exactly what the blonde was afraid of hearing. Because that's how he felt; as if nobody cared. He had revealed a secret to people he had felt safe with, but now he wished the words had never fallen from his lips. He collapsed into tears onto Francis, the boy sitting next to him.
"Apologize." Francis demanded.
But Natalya was gone; already back in her own world, eyes glazed over.
Francis hugged Matthew close, letting his tears soak through onto his cotton shirt. Ms. Chelles frowned. "Natalya, please apologize to Matthew. That wasn't nice." The accused didn't answer. "Natalya," the shrink repeated firmly.
The room was silent, except for Mathew's constant, muffled sobs. Natalya could feel everyone's glares on her. In this place it was an unspoken rule that you should care for everyone, sympathize with them and help them deal with their hardships, not bring them down lower. Natalya had committed the capital sin, the taboo. Again. She lowered her head, allowing her auburn hair to cascade over her face, hiding the fact that she too, was crying.
"Ms. Chelles…" a voice behind her said, "I think Natalya's just having a bad day."
Peeking through her bangs to see who had defended her, Natalya realized that she did not recognize him. He was about her age, sixteen, with mousy brown hair kept to his jaw. No, he'd been there when she'd first entered the facility and was instructed to introduce herself. Everyone was asked to sit in a circle and say their name. He called himself something odd. What was it? Natalya struggled to remember. Tori? Taurus?
"Toris." Ms. Chelles said, "Thank you for sticking up for a friend." Natalya looked back at him and he smiled shyly, his eyes not completely meeting hers. In turn, she awkwardly adjusted the oversized blue bow she wore in her hair. Natalya wanted to say 'Thank you', but she wasn't entirely sure she remembered how.
That night, Natalya dreamt of her brother. It wasn't an oddity for her. She dreamt of him constantly because she missed him so terribly. Her dear brother….sweet, sweet, beautiful Ivan.
"Natalya, sister, time to wake up" Ivan said, pulling back the curtains, allowing the still-rising sunshine to temporarily blind her. She rubbed the sleepiness out of her eyes and smiled, greeting her brother. "Good morning." The girl said. "Come," He said, sitting on the edge of her bed, "It's time to get ready for school." The brunette took a quick look at the clock.
"It's 6:00. I don't start school 'till eight."
Her brother smiled darkly. "So? High school starts at 6:30, and you're going to eat breakfast with me." Natalya smiled. He'd wanted to be close to her, spend time with her thing in the morning. She put her arms around Ivan and lightly planted a kiss atop his silvery hair. "You're so cruel, big brother." She told him.
The dream was a memory. When Natalya was in 6th grade, and Ivan was a freshman in high school, sometimes he'd pull her out of bed early, so that they could eat breakfast together. A smile danced across her sleeping face.
She followed him downstairs, where he had already prepared scrambled eggs for the both of them. He knew his little sister couldn't resist having him all to herself this early in the morning. They sat down across from each other at the wooden breakfast table without a word, but gazing at each other intently. All of a sudden, the air around them got thick, and Ivan smiled eerily. "You know what, little sister?" He whispered,
"I hate you."
The words echoed in her head. "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you." No. No. This wasn't supposed to happen. Yes. This was a dream. A bad dream. She had to get out. Out! Wake up. Wake up, Natalya! "I hate you." Ivan, her beloved brother said one last time before she was flung back into reality.
Natalya awoke at 3:20 am, drenched in cold sweat. A nightmare. Then, the familiar itchy feeling arose under her skin. The girl tried to stop it, but her hands worked on their own, scratching and tearing away the skin on her forearms. It was just a dream, she tried to comfort herself, Just a dream. Sixth grade, Natalya. Ivan loved you back then. Blood leaked onto the bed sheets. And as Ms. Chelles peeked into her room for the routinely check, she found Natalya hunched over on her bed, flesh under her fingernails and blood streaming down her slender arms, painting the bed linens into a scarlet battlefield.
A/N: I'm writing this story because I feel bad for representing Ivan/Russia in my previous fic, 'Recovery', as such a predator and abusive person, and because in many fics, I find that Belarus is also misrepresented as, to put it simply, a creepy-stalker-incest-bitch.
Dedicated to and inspired by my dear friend.
[EDIT]: I fixed the mistakes. Thank you for alerting me about them.