If I might be shot by firing squad when I finish writing this story, I want you to know that I was not afraid of death, for I have danced over the waters of the sea and felt no fear. I have conquered Europe with my exotic dances and if I'm ever to be judged for a crime that I committed, let it be for trusting too much in the wrong people. My name is Ivan Braginski and I am in the prime of my life and it's in the verge of the end of it, that I'm going to tell everyone who reads this my story. The story of how I became what I am accused of and how I met the only man who I really loved and who I still love, even here, in the confines of my dark cell.

I was born in a small house in the countryside to a family of three: my older sister Ekaterina, my youngest sister Natasha and our mother. Our father had died a couple years after my birth and I don't remember much about him. Given that she was older, Ekaterina acted as a mother for us ever since we were little and our mother died giving birth to my sister Natasha. She had always been the one to do the hard work at home, helped by Natasha when she was old enough to hold a broom, but they never allowed me to do anything at home, they said I should prepare to work outside and bring food to the table as Ekaterina had been doing for two years, working as a secretary of an old general, nicknamed General Winter, about whom I'm going to write later.

My sister Natasha is real... picturesque. She had always been too attached to me and was always around me whenever she had the chance. It was really creepy.

My mother died when I was very young and thus I don't remember very much about her, other than she was a really beautiful woman with bright purple eyes and beige hair just like mine. I guess I inherited more from her than my sisters. I was told I was as beautiful, or even more, than her when I showed one of my lovers my mother's picture I kept so fondly. Ever since my mother left us, we had been really close and lived as happily as a poor family in Russia could, in our small rural house.

The day of my eighteenth birthday had finally arrived in a cold winter day and that day I woke up excited as I did in every birthday since I was a little boy. My sisters always made a cake for me and we ate it having tea in the morning. It was a simple birthday celebration, but I was looking forward to it with all my heart. Even though times were tough for us, I never lost my hope.

When I woke up that morning, I was greeted by the sight of my sisters standing at the side of my bed Ekaterina was smiling and Natasha had a blank look on her face, but her eyes glowed when she saw me open mine. She had always complemented me for my eyes and said they were my most beautiful feature.

"Happy birthday, dear brother"

Ekaterina said, giving me a kiss on the cheek. I hugged her and hugged my youngest sister Natasha, who returned the hug a little tighter than I would have wanted.

"Why don't you come down and have cake with us? But before that, we have a present for you"

I remembered having blushed a little and giggled when my sister wrapped around my slender neck a scarf, a beautiful pink scarf, she had made especially for me. The gift was from both of my sisters, but I knew Ekaterina had made it herself, because Natasha didn't have enough patience for that and would easily loose her temper knitting. I liked knitting also, my sister had taught us both, but as I was a fast learner, I caught up with my sister's teaching faster than Natasha, who abandoned at the second lesson.

When my sisters allowed me some privacy to get changed I instantly began playing with my new scarf, even though it was pretty cold inside the house. I had always been interested in professional dancing and twirled around the room pretending that the simple scarf was a pretty veil that I slid up and down my slender and smooth body. I have never felt more beautiful up until that moment, as the soft fabric slid down my long legs and my naked thighs, I covered my middle with the scarf and bowed to the imaginary public of stuffed toys I had in my bedroom.

I have always been entranced by those exotic dances from the south, from Turkey, where I heard stories about dancing men. It was my best kept secret and my wildest dream. I wanted to go to Turkey to dance and get away from the cold I hated so much.

I loved dancing; I danced whenever no one was watching. Dancing was my passion, but at that time of innocence, I could have never imagined the hypnotic power the dance held over other men.

When the small cake had been eaten by the three of us while having tea, I decided to go out for a walk even though my sisters said it was dangerous for me to go outside and expose myself to the cold winter air, but I dismissed it and begged my sister Natasha to not accompany me. I wanted to be alone for some time, I thought of it as a birthday gift to myself. And I wanted to use my scarf for the first time.

I was thinking about how school was already over and I would finally be able to aid financially as I wanted to work somewhere they would pay well in order for my sister Ekaterina to stop working. While immersed in thoughts about my life and so, I spotted the sea nearby and walked over there. It was completely frozen and surrounded by a thick layer of snow. I didn't stop and kept walking until I reached a far corner of the frozen sea and realised that I was standing over water.

"I am standing over water"

I repeated, as to actually believe what I was thinking. Then I started to giggle as I began to dance around my place at the sea, entranced by the sheer beauty of the falling snow around me and twirling my scarf around pretending it was the pretty veil I wanted it to be. I placed it over my face and moved my hips in time with my arms, then I traced patters over my head, in the air, with my arms and my "veil". When I finished dancing I giggled.

"I have danced over the waters and survived"

I felt like I could do anything I wanted, at that moment and I still do, in spite of everything that had gone through my life since then.

Unbeknownst to me, there had been someone who had spotted me in the middle of the water and was watching me intently from behind a tree. I didn't know it at that moment, but that man who was spying me was no other than General Winter, my sister had explained to me that it was because, in the battlefield, he was implacable, like the Russian Winter.