As I was walking down the street, I stuff my hands into my pockets. This is something that I don't normally do, but those close to me realize that this is how I begin to deal with thinking. Rather, the voices inside my head are what cause me to shove my hands in my pocket. I can still hear Svetlana's muffled sobs and Manitoba's soothing accent helping her out. Vito doesn't seem to care, and Chester is telling her to "quit her whinin'." I sigh as I adjust my backpack on my shoulders. It's heavier than it was before due to a library book Chester checked out. I have to be the one responsible to bring it back. Otherwise, Chester will misplace the book, and I'll get fined at least $10.
The thing I decide to do when I get home is to take a nap and talk to Svetlana. That's the only way we can communicate amongst ourselves. I realize that this is a touchy subject, so I may not want to address it in front of anyone. I think I have another 5 minutes before we get to the house, and then we can talk. Of course, I learned to think in a whispering tone due to the fact that the others can hear my thoughts. I can't risk that. Not here, not now…
"Svetlana," I think louder.
"D-Da?"
"I need to talk to you about today."
"Nyet."
"But-"
"NYET."
The Russian word rings inside of my head. Svetlana clearly does not want to talk, so the trauma must be great. I shut up and continue my quiet thinking.
There are so many unanswered questions: why am I adopted? Who are my birth parents? Also, why was I in juvie for a year or so? What trauma did Svetlana have to put up with…?
The questions flood my head as though they were waves crashing to the shore. My eyes water, and suddenly, tears leave their residue on my cheeks. Before I close my eyes, Svetlana speaks again. "Svetlana will be showing you."
I am taken into the past by one of Svetlana's memories. She is now putting on my mother's lipstick, but she doesn't seem to be her perky self. Some hair covers her left eye, which is a new hairstyle that I've never seen before. She turns to look at a strange man who apparently has been watching her from afar. He mutters a couple of words, and Svetlana is truly terrified. She quickly looks back into the mirror, and I notice something odd about her face. There is a large bruise around her left eye, but she tries to cover it up.
The man snarls at her in a way that sounds similar to Vito's snarls. She quickly runs to the man, and she looks at the floor. Time elapses. She's screaming and the man covers her mouth. She's screaming in Russian, pure Russian. I don't need to be an interpreter of what she says. She's sitting on the bed, and… No… NO.
I open my eyes and lean forward. I'm disgusted. I vomit in some nearby bushes. I want to vanish into thin air. Someone else, take control, take control… I hold my stomach and feel it emptying. It's as if I can't control my sickness; the others are asking if I'm okay. I am not. They should be able to hear the retching and the splatters on the ground. Svetlana has stopped crying, and I can hear her singing a Russian song. She used to sing it to me while I was surrounded by others in Juvie so that I could fall asleep. I cannot stop the tears, and I have finally stopped puking. Before I know it, someone takes over for me, and I am back in the Mind.
I don't get a chance to breathe before Svetlana hugs me. I'm shaking and crying. Why can't I stop crying? Part of me feels sorry for Svetlana, who is a part of me. That means I feel sorry for myself. I thought I knew what love is when I met Zoey, but I've come to understand that Svetlana has given me the gift of protection. That was selfless love…
That's the best kind of love I've ever experienced.