I jolted forward clutching my heart. My bright blue eyes were wide and beads of sweat trickled down my face. I was panting heavily. My hands trembled in fear. Upon recognizing the room I was in, I sighed. My hands fell to my side and my breathing resumed to its normal pace.
It was only a dream, I thought to myself, The same horrible grotesque dream...
I shook my head attempting to fight off the images. Sparkling red and orange flames devoured lives, homes, and land like an evil beast. The Dripro River turned a deep scarlet red for all who defied the "protectors" to see. Bodies of my cossacks and citizens lay limply in a pool of their own sticky blood. Loud machines accompanied by horses with masters who wielded swords and guns sliced through men, woman, and yes, even children. Images of the destruction of my capital, Kyiv, continued to flash as sounds now slowly crept to my ears.
The voices of my citizens rang loudly. Men shouted orders, swords clashing, and gun shots loudly boomed. Flames sizzled and cracked. Buildings crumbled in a loud THUMP along with the snapping sound of wood. Terrified woman shrieked like the sirens that sounded too late to warn of the invasion. Children cried the names of lost parents and siblings as babies loudly sobbed in the limp lifeless arms of their mothers.
I shook my head faster and covered my ears in a fruitless attempt to block out the sounds and images in my head. My eyes closed as tears began to pour from them. It took all my control not to scream out or yell for help.
I didn't dare wake my young vanya or sestra. They didn't need to see me like this. Though recently I had failed at being strong for them, I had to prove to the world that not all of us born under Kyiv Rus were psychotic. I bit my tongue to ease my heartache and quell my thirst to scream. As quickly as it had come, it left. What felt like hours of living in a horror novel were in reality only seconds. I blinked for a moment astonished at what had just happened. Then, as if a switch had flipped, I held my head in my hands and began to cry. The taste of blood from the place I had bit my tongue poured into my mouth.
Why?, I thought to myself, Why these horrible dreams and images? Why over and over again? Is there a reason? Is it a sign? Haven't I gone through enough torture? Enough pain? Enough suffering? Stop it! Please!
I didn't know to whom or what I was speaking to. I just knew that whoever it was was causing these nightmares and depriving me of sleep. A shiver ran down my spine. Both my hands travelled to the opposite elbow and crossed my stomach in a sort of loose self hug. I pulled back my tears and coarsely swallowed the blood that had begun to stop flowing.
I looked out the window. Small white snowflakes slowly danced to the floor like elegant ballerinas. How surprising that after such horrid images, something beautiful can appear. I looked out a moment more, finding the simple snow peaceful and calming. Suddenly, the window pane flashed with dark red bloody fingerprints. Not just one, but many. Varying in size and length as if begging for my help. I closed my eyes and turned away from it, barely successful in holding back a majority of tears fighting to escape. I looked back. No blood, but the snow had stopped falling.
Scared, and not wanting to be alone any longer, I got out of my bed. My feet slowly withdrew from the cold floor board. I tested it again and exited my room. I headed for the long hallway that connected the rooms to which my vanya, sestra, and the Baltics lived.
Slowly, I opened the wooden door to my sestra's room. Belarus was still asleep. She looked so peaceful, as if she could never get as scary as I knew she could get. I shut the door, not wanting to destroy her rest.
At the end of the hall I found my way to my vanya's room. I carefully lifted the door knob latch and pushed one of the two large doors open. Russia looked peaceful as well. It was times like these when I wondered what people saw that was bad about my lovely siblings. Russia shivered in his sleep. He had kicked off his red blanket with the yellow insignia in the corner. I walked over to put it back on him. I bent over feeling the soft red fabric of the flag-modeled blanket. I had mixed feelings of the flag. It represented our Union...yet it represented my loss of freedom. I laid the blanket over him and watched as his shivering turned back to a state of relaxation and calmness.
Once again in the blink of an eye the world changed. Russia's hand dangled as blood ran from a lacerated wrist to a red puddle on the floor. His face, no longer peaceful, but pale and twisted in fear. His neck had three long bloody gashes in them that almost made the neck appear as if it would easily split in two. The yellow insignia now blended in with the rest of the flag, covered in blood. The red flag was now worn, torn, and black with ash.
Tears, this time uncontrollable, poured out. For this time it wasn't just me, but my younger brother. It was Ivan who I had told myself to protect. I sank to the floor and continued sobbing, not bothering to lift my head because I knew when I looked again my vanya would be back to normal. When will this torture end?
I only have one wish. One simple simple wish. I do not even wish for the meaning if these disgusting sights and sounds nor do I wish them to cease if my one wish can be fulfilled. Please don't let these be visions for the future. Please don't let this be some kind of warning I am foreseeing. Don't let them be repressed memories. Please, do not let me witness this kind of pain and torture outside of my imagination. Or better yet, do not let my siblings or citizens endure this horrid malevolent torture. Please, make this stay only sights and sounds of the mind. Do not, whether past, present, or future, let these nightmares be or become reality. That is my only wish.
