Crossing Boundaries
Chapter 9: Promise
I have not moved from my bed in days. I still wear the same teal dress that I had worn to my interview at the BAU. I feel like butter scraped over too much bread. I am devoid of emotion. I search my mind for some sort of rationale, but my mind mocks me.
I hear my bedroom door creak open, and I can tell by the whisper of skirts that it is Nadya. She sits down beside me on the bed and begins to stoke my hair. This simple action makes all of my emotions come rushing back in a wave of unstoppable fury.
"Oh Nadya, I've been such a budala (fool)! I have just turned away the only people who could have helped me."
"Shush Ani," Nadya chides me for being melodramatic. "I do not think they have abandoned you." She gives my shoulders a little rub. The gesture is welcome as they have become sore from lying prone in bed. "Your Dr. Reid cannot have forgotten you, for you have stolen his heart."
I groan in frustration. "But it is he whom I have betrayed!" I bemoan.
Nadya gives me a firm slap on my head. "Enough of this nonsense. You have lain abed for nearly two days. Go bathe; you smell." She tugs at my ankles, forcing me out of my nearly vegetative state. "I know you've been hurt," Nadya continues, "but if you do not keep living, then your attacker has won. Do not give him the glory of beating you down."
Her words make perfect sense, but they are the hardest advice to follow. I must start simply. I crawl out of bed and into the bathroom. In the shower, I let the warm water rinse away all of my anger and sorrow.
Feeling refreshed after an hour in the warm shower, I wander into my bedroom and stare at my open closet. On a whim, I pull out the only pair of jeans that I own. I slip them on and somehow they feel right. Rummaging again, I emerge with a hip length tank in a soft lilac, its front adorned with a splash of tiny silver stars.
As I stand in front of my mirror, I feel confidence starting to grow in my heart. No longer do I look like a meek immigrant. Now I look like I belong; a little exotic, but not out of place. Seeing this startling difference between this self and my old self made me laugh aloud.
Hearing the sound of my laughter must have been extremely disconcerting to Nadya, because she came running into my bedroom. "Ani!" she cried. In the mirror, I saw her eyes widen at my appearance.
"Well?" I ask cautiously. This was the first time that I had worn these clothes since I bought them. I had always feared that giving up my cultural identity in favor of American style would change who I was. But standing here now, I realize that it makes no difference.
"Amazing. I've never seen you look so beautiful." She gives me a sly smirk. "See, I knew if I annoyed you enough you would see my point."
"Ah, you cannot take all the glory," I chide her gently. Then a thought crept into my head. "Nadya, change into your American clothes."
Nadya raised a dark eyebrow quizzically. "Oh?"
I refused to say more. "Just change. I will tell more in due time." A brilliant idea was forming in my head. It was the perfect way for me to lighten my mood and move forward with my life, just as Nadya had said. I went to our money chest that sat in the kitchen and removed some money. After slipping on my sandals and slinging my purse over my shoulder, I waited for Nadya in the common room.
She emerged a few minutes later, looking as exotic as I did. Like me, she wore jeans, but she wore a deep red cap sleeved top. To me she looked like a Russian model, though many would say she was plain. Nadya spun in a circle to show off the only American clothes that she owned.
Bursting with energy and adventure, I grab her hand and pull her out of the door.
"What are we doing?" she asked as we ran down the stairs of our apartment building.
"Our first stop is a drugstore for a camera." She said nothing in response, but gave me a strange look instead. "Nadya Czajkowski, you and I are going to embrace the new world we live in."
The gorgeous summer day held many great surprises for us. In our melodic accents, we nearly hypnotized complete strangers to take pictures of us. Our camera became a photographic journal for our day of unfettered exploration. For once, the fear of my attack was gone from my mind. We spent the day laughing like sisters – being more attached at the hip than we already were. We shopped for new clothes – American clothes, though we added some native spice just to be different. We took a leisurely stroll through the park arm in arm, casually sipping iced coffees as though we had been doing so our entire lives.
"Ani, this is amazing. We should have done this months ago." I could only nod in agreement.
It felt almost illicit to feel this good. Gone were the dank walls of our crumbling apartment. "We should move," I said suddenly. "Get out of the ghetto and into a better neighborhood."
"Where would we go?" Nadya asked, slurping up the last of her coffee.
I thought on that for a while. Then an image filtered into my brain; an image of a place I had seen the other day. "There's a building, to too far from here, that would be perfect. I could use the bottom floor as the dance studio I've always wanted to set up. The top would be a perfect apartment." I sighed wistfully. The image in my head was nearly perfect.
Beside me, Nadya closed her eyes in content as we lounged on a low stone wall. "Do you feel more like yourself?"
"Yes," I assured her. "I'll make you a promise: never again will I allow myself to be crippled by my fears."
She gave me a huge smile and a hug. "I like that promise."