You were fifteen when it happened. It was an age to be joyful, to be productive, and to discover; a bright day in downtown Moscow with parasols, ice-cream shops, cars, and summer jobs. Your mother and father took you and Shuhrat, the son of a very close family friend, out for lunch. Shuhrat was seven years older than you, and stood tall above you with his broad shoulders and a serious face. His features were what you thought a perfect example of a mix between Caucasian and Asian, like a pop singer you used to obsess over, and your favorite part was his hair, his dark and gentle curls that was uncommon for an Uzbek. The curls were very hard to spot because of how short and tidy he kept it, but having practically grown up in his company, you were no stranger to his secrets.
Shuhrat had been your good friend and companion all these years, sometimes you even catch your parents speaking of how they wish you would eventually grow closer.
"Shuhrat is a good boy, my dear. Seeing you two together makes me smile." Your mother would say to you every time she combed your hair and helped you put it up before you leave to find him.
"Mama, please. Shuhrat is like a brother to me." You said, smiling, though secretly you did feel an attraction towards him.
Maybe that's why they say proximity breeds affection. Even as you walked on the streets with your family, you felt that all your attention was focused on him, as if you were alone on a date. You walked into the small café and stood in front of the many different flavors of ice-cream, contemplating what to get. Next to you, Shuhrat only took a quick glance at the display before moving his gaze away. He was always so decisive, and you envied him for being able to do that.
"Alright, everyone ready?" Your father asked before he ordered for everyone. Your parents had the usual strawberry cheese cakes and Shuhrat took a mint flavored ice-cream. You didn't feel like going for the usual, so you got a green-tea flavored one.
You found a table outside and sat down, your parents started talking as you and Shuhrat ate your ice-creams quietly.
"How is it?" He asked you halfway through.
You tasted the lingering, pleasant contrast between the bitterness and sweet on your tongue and replied, "Not bad, I think I like it."
From the corner of your eyes you could see your parents exchanging whispers as you and Shuhrat bantered. You sighed and turned to them with a smile, "What is it now? What are you smiling at?"
"Your father and I want to go shopping for a while after this. We were thinking that if you two don't want to come along, Shuhrat can take you home. Would you do that, dear?"
"Of course." He replied.
You thought to yourself that this was another one of your parents' plans to give you two alone time and felt helpless about their resolve to match the two of you together. You didn't mind it too much, but you worried that Shuhrat would feel uncomfortable about it. For God's sake, he is twenty-two! Surely he has a girlfriend, not someone like me.
"No taking her to the amusement park again." You heard your father command Shuhrat, "Straight back home, am I clear?"
"Yes sir."
"But it's the weekend, Pa…" You protested.
"Finish your work first, and then maybe if Shuhrat has time."
"I can always go with my classmates."
Your father looked at Shuhrat before he took the cue and spoke, "I have training on Saturday, but I will have time on Sunday."
Your face brightened up knowing that he'd be free to accompany you, even though he didn't have to. Having him around made you feel safe, and you couldn't wait to be able to finally take him onto the rollercoaster, the biggest one in the park.
"How is your father, Kessikbayev? I haven't talked to him in a while. Is he still not retired?" Your father followed up.
Your fathers were friends, just like your grandfathers who fought in the war together. Destiny seemed to always have kept your families close to each other despite the times changing and people moving around all the time. You don't know much about your grandfather, but you knew he was a great soldier. Your father didn't want you to pursue a military career, however. You got the feeling that he wanted you to do what most young people do, to graduate and get a good job.
"My father is doing well. So far he hasn't planned for retirement." You heard Shuhrat say as you finished up your ice-cream.
The two men talked more about the past, military life, and such. You weren't understanding most of it, many words simply flied through your brain, but you tried to keep up. You watched Shuhrat's eyes light up as he talked to your father, his passion for his job showing through. He worked at a firing range, helping them test and develop weapons. It had always been his dream, and he served as a good example to you of how through hard work, one could make his dreams come true.
Soon everyone finished their snack and it was time to go. You walked together until the entrance of the metro and your mother stopped to give you a hug.
"Be good, sweetie. Don't be too much trouble for Shuhrat. See you tonight." She kissed your cheeks and you returned the gesture.
"I will, I love you."
"Shuhrat, take care of her." Your father reminded the young man standing next to you and you smiled. Always the protective father, he was.
"I'm fifteen, dad. I know how to handle myself."
"Doesn't change a thing, my love. Now go, see you soon."
You watched them step down the stairs to the metro and turned to walk towards the bus station. It wasn't far away from where you lived, so really there was no rush to head back so soon.
"Hey Shuhrat," You called him and he looked at you with his warm brown eyes, "You wanna go check out the arcade on our way back?"
He crossed his arms and looked at you disapprovingly, "No. I promised your parents that we are heading straight home. Let's go."
"Come on, you're no fun!" You argued, "What am I going to do when I get home? I'm all alone."
"You could start doing your homeworks."
"There aren't that many, I'd be bored to death afterwards." You pled, "Just a short stop, please?"
He seemed to have hesitated for a moment. Like a big brother, he couldn't help but want to make you happy. "Alright, but this time…"
A loud and ground-shaking boom came from below and for a moment, everyone around looked confused, wondering where that sound came from. When people started running out of the metro station screaming and asking for help, that's when you realized something terrible had happened. Your first thought was your parents.
"Stay here, don't move." You heard Shuhrat tell you as he rushed down the stairs and into the station. You felt the urgency to do something, anything, and how could you stay here, knowing that something might have happened to your parents? You didn't heed the warning in the back of your head and went straight after Shuhrat.
A heavy cloud of smoke filled the inside of the station and you covered your nose to stop the smell from irritating your nostrils. Further down, once you arrived at the platforms, you dropped your hand and saw something you could never forget.
There was a train blasted into half from the middle and a part of the platform was destroyed, covered in debris. There were people crawling out of the train, some screaming, others helping the ones in need. You saw blood stains and bits and pieces of human body and you felt your heartbeat quicken at the terrible scene, afraid to think what had happened to your parents. People rushed past you with the wounded, helping them to the surface. Phone calls were made and you walked towards the train with slow, dream-like steps. This isn't real, You told yourself, This can't be real.
What finally tipped you over and threatened your sanity was what you saw inside the hole of the train. Shuhrat was there, shouting and attempting to revitalize your father lying on the floor with CPR procedures. The entire interior of the cabin was covered in fallen parts and various items and dust. You held your mouth shut with your hands when you saw your dear, poor mother, with her legs missing and dead a few meters away from your father.
"No!" You finally screamed and rushed towards her.
You heard Shuhrat call your name, but you didn't care. You knelt down beside your mother and gathered her in your arms, shaking and sobbing as you called her name.
"Mama, wake up…" You begged, still in a childish denial, trying to pretend this wasn't happening, "Mama please… oh God." You looked down at her face and caressed her cheek, tears streaming out of your eyes. She wasn't moving, nothing. You felt your heart was being torn apart. Her face was covered in ash and blood.
When you knew she wasn't coming back, you held your mouth close and cried into your hand. This can't be happening, You repeated to yourself in despair, She can't be gone. This isn't happening.
"My… child."
You turned your head abruptly when you heard your father's weak voice and quickly crawled over to him, joining Shuhrat. Your father wasn't in good shape either, but you still hoped for the impossible.
"Papa!" You took his hand and placed it against your cheek, feeling the chilling cold of his dying body. "Papa you'll be okay, help is coming. We'll take you to the hospital." You said as you heard the loud sirens echoing through the station. He'll be fine, please. You prayed.
"No… listen to me…" He stared into your eyes with all the love a father could give, and a deep resentment that he couldn't make it out alive, "Be good… we love you… we will always… be with you…"
"Don't say that Papa… don't say that," Tears overwhelmed you again as you held his hand tightly in yours, "You're going to be alright, you'll be fine..."
"Shuhrat… take care of her." He said with his last breath, and you watched as the light in his eyes faded away.
"Don't leave me… Papa please don't leave me…" You begged and threw yourself over your father's body, but it was over. He left you, both of them, right in front of your eyes. Your body couldn't stop shaking and your mind was in chaos. You felt your head was splitting in half from the unimaginable amount of grief you were feeling and you couldn't do anything but cry.
What happened after that was a fuzzy memory. You vaguely recall watching your parents' bodies being covered and taken away from you and Shuhrat's arms around you, but nothing mattered to you because you felt so alone, so helplessly alone. You felt as if you were being zoned out into another dimension, a place where there was only you and no one else.
A numbness overcame you after Shuhrat took you back to his family, where his mother and father both started to weep when they saw you and held you tightly in their arms. Throughout this you said no words and felt nothing, even when they addressed you, you simply nodded in silence as response.
Only till night fell and you were alone in Shuhrat's room (he moved to sleep in the living room to give you space), you tossed and turned in the bed and felt tears escape the corners of your eyes. Where are they? You talked to yourself, Where are you Mama? Papa? Help me, I feel so alone…
Life suddenly lost its purpose, all that you had planned for your future, all that you once thought mattered, vanished into thin air like your parents. Why were you still here? What was the point of being alive anymore? You pulled at your hair and cried into the pillow, not realizing that you were screaming.
You felt a pair of arms help you up and you sobbed into Shuhrat's chest. He must have heard you and came to check if you were ok. You grabbed onto him and couldn't say a word.
"I'm sorry." He said quietly and rubbed your back, but sorry couldn't bring them back.
What am I supposed to do? Your head was spinning with thoughts, but your mouth muted.
"Do you need me to stay with you?" He asked you and you nodded.
He sat himself in the bed and watched over you as you fell back onto the damp pillow, pulling the sheets over your curled-up body. You felt his hand caressing your hair and for a moment you thought it was your mother, and it made you weep once more. Sleep didn't come to you until deep into the night, and even when it did, you were visited by only nightmares.
Over the next weeks, Shuhrat's family took care of you and gave you all the support you needed in the world, but nothing was ever enough to soothe your pain. You began to question yourself with a series of what ifs and each scenario tormented you a thousand times more. What if you asked them to come home with you? Nothing would have happened to them… You began to blame yourself for what happened and this unreasonable guilt crippled you. You couldn't function, you stayed inside the house all day like a zombie, waiting for time to tick by. You rejected all human interaction, even the ones with Shuhrat to a degree.
Depression was the grey cloud over your fifteenth summer, and you had the feeling that it would never go away.
You had no relatives who wanted to keep you, even after learning what had happened to your family. You remember hearing Shuhrat's mother arguing and yelling at the other end of the telephone about how irresponsible and heartless they were before slamming the phone down. The kind woman then came to you and pulled you into her arms saying, "Don't you worry about a thing, we'll take care of you. We always intended to."
And so you were adopted. You attended the funeral not long after, standing beside Shuhrat as you watched your parents' remains receive the final blessing before going under. You had so many strangers hugging you, dedicating speeches for you, but all their touch made you feel uncomfortable. You just wanted it to stop, so you clung onto Shuhrat, who held you tightly in his arms, shielding you from the rest of the world. Throughout the process, no tears escaped your eyes, and no words your mouth.
"Do you want to go?" You heard Shuhrat ask you with concern and you nodded. He took you away from the crowd of black and to the garden not far away in the cemetery. Here, flowers bloomed and the bushes were trimmed, and birds sang softly atop the evergreens. The two of you sat down on a bench and you leaned against him as he held your hand.
You stayed like this in silence until he spoke suddenly, "I've requested to be on active duty again."
You looked into his eyes with fear and shook your head. Why?
He saw the look in your eyes and gave you a determined smile, "I can't stand idling about when the real fight needs to be taken to those who hurt you."
No, don't leave me alone. You wanted to say it out loud, but you couldn't. You were afraid, shaking. Shuhrat felt like the last crutch you had. If he were to die too…
You held him with all the strength you had, trying to let him know that you wanted him to stay. Just stay with me, please. Your nose turned sour and tears wetted your eyes.
He said your name and lifted your face so you could stare into his warm brown eyes, "Talk to me, tell me."
You moved your lips and the words appeared like magic, soft and weak, threatened to be carried away by the breeze, "Don't go."
Those were the first words you have said since the accident, and Shuhrat wiped your tears with a knowing smile.
"You have to be strong. For them. I promise I will visit whenever I can."
"No." You whimpered, Please don't leave.
"Be strong for me?" He caressed your cheek, "There won't be much combat, I will be doing the same thing I'm doing now, testing weapons."
You said nothing and buried your head in his chest as you hear him sigh and hold you close. You didn't understand why he was leaving and why he decided to do this. All you knew was you were going to be alone again, and you dreaded the future, if there even was one for you.
That night, you held him like you had for the past weeks, only that something had changed in your heart. That added anxiety that came from the knowledge of his eventual departure was tearing you apart from the inside and you did your best to not let it show. Your little arms were wrapped around his body and he rocked you and rubbed up and down your back to help you sleep. The touch of his fingers against the thin fabric of your sleep shirt made you feel safe but at the same time awful. You wanted to push him away and save yourself before you became too attached to him, but you couldn't help yourself lingering in his arms, because he was the only one you had. To push him away would mean severing yourself from the only anchor holding you, and you feared that you would die without him.
Since the day of the funeral, you only spoke to Shuhrat and no one else. The closer the day of his departure approached the harder you felt it was to breathe. He said he was going to England, why so far? You had no idea, and when you asked how long he would be gone he only told you that he'd be gone for a few months.
When he finally left for England, you gave him the small photo that you two took in the amusement park so that he would remember you, even though he said he didn't need it as you were always on his mind. You watched him go and felt your world shattering, again, a similar feeling that you had when your parents died, and you fell to the floor.
After he left, Shuhrat's parents managed to put you back into school and life resumed its natural course. From an outsider's perspective, they would say that you were recovering from the shock and grief, but only you knew that a cut so deep would never truly heal. You were the outcast in school, the quiet one, and you avoided as much human interaction as you could. Your adoptive parents finally began to think if you had problems speaking physically and took you to the doctors, but of course the result would be that you were perfectly capable of speaking; You just didn't want to.
Even so, they coped with you, and gave you all the unconditional love adoptive parents could give, and years passed like this. Every few months, Shuhrat would return on a bright morning. Before the doorbell even rang, your dog would hop up from his cozy den and rush to the door to greet his master, and you would come out of your little world to meet the man in your dreams. He would always smile and pet the dog before turning his attention to you and walk over to give you a tight embrace.
"Hey." He would say, and you would finally let all the weight in your heart drop. You would take a look at him, to see how he had changed. You imagine he did the same to you.
"You've grown up." You heard him say to you. "I barely recognize you."
You were eighteen. Your hair had grown longer and your height boosted, but you had the same perpetual sad smile that only he could make happy. Shuhrat became stronger and manlier, one look from him was enough to send you blushing. You kept your feelings to yourself, ignoring your palpitating heart and the butterflies in your stomach. You didn't understand why you were feeling like this.
It might be a short 3 years from 15 to 18, but the changes these three years encompass were significant. It was more than just a pull of a wisdom teeth and the growth of your hair, more than just shopping for larger clothes and recognizing your beauty in the mirror. It was a metamorphosis, like ripping off old skin so a new one could grow, you were slowly walking out of the depression and wreckage your parents' death had brought. For a while it almost felt as if everything was okay again, until of course, Shuhrat's return. He brought with him all your life memories, the good and the bad, and standing with him right now you felt like you were that 15 year old little girl again.
"You two should catch up." Shuhrat's mother said, smiling. She must have noticed how you were looking at each other, and excused herself from the room.
"I missed you." You said after a long silence.
"I missed you too. Come, we must chat."
The two of you changed and he took you out to your favorite restaurant on the corner of a street. It was a ritual of yours to come to this place every time he returns from deployment. The interior of this place was very well decorated and it always made you feel as if you had time-travelled back to the 1980s. You sat across him next to a window and the two of you started chatting after placing your orders.
"How is university?" He asked.
"It's okay. I like my subject so far." You smiled sweetly at him and took a sip from the glass of water you had. It felt wonderful to finally be able to talk after so long. You had shut yourself off from everyone except him. "How are you?"
"Good. Busy, but nothing I can't handle."
The afternoon sun beamed through the window and outlined the soft curls on his head; how you wished you could touch it and have him beside you forever, but he had his plans, and who were you to interfere? You knew he did this all for you, but he didn't understand that all you needed was for him to stay with you.
"You look sad, what is it?" You snapped out of your thoughts when he asked, only then you realized that you've been moping again.
"No… it's nothing."
"Tell me." His face was serious.
"Stay, Shuhrat." You requested in a quiet voice and saw his gaze soften.
You weren't sure if he wanted to reply to you because a waiter had interrupted you with appetizers and the conversation was discontinued. The two of you ate in an awkward silence until the end of the meal and you tried so hard to not cry in front of him.
After that, he drove you home and you escaped into your room and locked it before you finally let your tears fall. Strange emotions overwhelmed you and you couldn't pretend anymore. You needed him beside you, because he was the next closest person you had in your life other than your parents, and the only other person you could share the weight of the world with. The thought of him leaving you once again, over and over, to go to England and to avenge your parents' death hurt you, because all you wanted was his company.
Killing terrorists wouldn't bring back your parents, but it would save many other people's lives.
He will never give up his job for you. You said to yourself, What he is doing is more important than you.
Your heard a knock not long after and knew you had to open the door for him. So you did, after wiping your tears, and let him hold you in his arms.
"I'm sorry, солнышко (sunshine)."
You held your breath when he called you his sunshine for the first time.
"I know it is difficult for you."
Of course it was. You remember dusting the house for any tiny piece of him that he left behind and gathering all these personal trinkets in a box, marked "Shuhrat's," and putting it somewhere close in your room. You had a picture of the two of you smiling on your table, where you could see it every day and every second. You hated worrying about his safety and his health, constantly dreading that the officers would come ringing your bell one day with grave news.
You loved him, helplessly so. He was your brother, your protector, and your safe harbor.
"But you stayed strong for me, and that makes me happy." He continued and held your cheeks as he smiled at you, "You've grown so beautiful and smart, your parents would have been proud of you."
You felt the urge to cry when he brought up your parents and looked at him with watery eyes. You cover your mouth as he gave you an embrace with his arms around your back and your head. Sometimes you felt that Shuhrat could read your mind, as he seemed to always know what to say and do to make you feel better.
He held you like this for a long while before letting you go and sat down with you in your bed to talk.
"Mom said you almost drowned once when you went to the beach. What happened?"
You looked at him embarrassingly and recalled the incident, "I wasn't paying attention to how far off I swam from shore."
"And no guards warned you?"
"It was a busy day, it really was just me being careless." You ran your fingers through your hair. It was a scary experience, to take a big gulp of sea water and to have your nose sting from the pain of breathing at the wrong time. You thought it was your time to go, but when you came to you were in the hospital with Shuhrat's parents.
He didn't need to know the details, and you prayed his mother didn't tell him too much, lest he worry more about you. You didn't want to be a burden to him.
"No more risky swimming." He told you in a stern voice and you nodded, "I can't lose you too."
These simple caring words managed to lure out your smile and you reached your hand out for him to hold.
"And I can't lose you." You said softly.
After a moment of silence, you finally asked him what had been on your mind, "How is everything in England?"
"Routine. Maxim (Kapkan) says hello, said he would like to meet you one day. Timur (Glaz) too, he came back as well."
Shuhrat's comrades were a good bunch, you knew that much from the stories he had told you. Despite having never met them, you trusted these men and was somehow glad that Shuhrat had them to count on. You knew that when these Russian men are together, they were indestructible.
"That's nice of them." You commented, "Can we meet Timur then?"
"Of course, as soon as he has time. I almost forgot." He stood up and went out the room, returning shortly with a scroll in his hand. He unwrapped it and in front of you was a beautiful oil paint of a swallow. You gasped at the painting.
"Did he draw this?"
"For you, as birthday gift." Shuhrat smiled and let you hold the drawing yourself, "I told him you'd be turning eighteen, I did not expect him to do this."
You carefully took in all the colors and details of this simple painting and felt it light up your world a little. The bird was resting on a branch against a backdrop of dense leaves and its eyes were bright and intelligent. The tri-colored feathers was a stark contrast to your boring room, and you figured it would make an excellent framed picture.
"Now I definitely must meet him, if only to thank him." You muttered and rolled up the painting to store it away, "Thank you for bringing this back to me."
He squeezed your hand and shook his head, "It's no problem."
You chatted for another hour before the first yawn escaped your lips. Strange, you haven't been actively sleepy for quite a while now. Insomnia was a plague that's rooted deep inside you ever since the incident, but Shuhrat always managed to lift it somehow. You felt at ease with him as you told him that you wanted to sleep.
"It's getting late. I will leave you to rest then." He stood up and was about to leave, but you caught his arm and halted his footsteps. He looked back at you and gave you a soft smile, "Want me to stay with you?"
You nodded, slightly embarrassed at your own need of having his company. Like many other things, having him lull you to sleep was what you missed the most about him. So he changed into his T-shirt and sleeping pants while you did the same, and soon found yourself in his embrace in your bed, with your head against his chest.
The lights were off and you remained quiet, just listening to his strong heartbeat and his breathing. You could feel your breast just barely touching him and it sent a shiver down your spine. Outside of Shuhrat, you've never been so close to a man, ever. It didn't help that his hand was gently rubbing your back, making you want to purr in pleasure. You struggled with how you were feeling and more rational thoughts then: was it right to have such feelings for someone you considered your brother? Or were you just desperately in need of someone who cared for you?
"Sleep." You heard him say and it surprised you. It seemed that he sensed you were still awake.
You were so close that you suddenly had the urge to kiss him. Just imagining your lips on his was enough to drive you insane. Just a quick one, You told yourself, at the same time mustering all the courage you could ever build to then move your head up and plant a short kiss on his lips.
You didn't even care to wait for his reaction and quickly turned away from him, at the same time putting a small distance between your bodies so you could die peacefully in shame. You held your breath and listened closely, your hearing amplified by the adrenaline rushing through your veins, but you heard nothing, no movements from him.
And then, just as you gave up all hope and tried to force yourself to sleep and forget what happened, you felt him put his arm on your waist and pulled himself closer to you until your back was touching him. You were blushing madly at this point, being spooned by him like this, and let out quiet and long breaths to calm yourself down.
You were tearing up a little, too, because of relief, seeing that he didn't reject you or just leave. You couldn't manage to say a word, but you knew none were needed. You were his matryoshka doll, and he alone knew how to unravel the many layers to get to the real you. And just like that, in the warmth of his arms, you sank into a deep, restful sleep. No nightmares.