silver strings on the floorboards

2. Scissors

Victor spent the next five days at the hotel trying to distract himself from the thoughts about his mother and having the most fun possible. He got closer with Chris, he teached a few younger skaters at the nearby ice rink a few jumps, talked to Yakov about his new program and actually focused a bit on himself and his needs. He took baths, he read a book and ordered his favorite food.

Then, the fifth day was over and he took his flight home to St. Petersburg in the morning. During the flight, he listened to music. He couldn't take the risk of complete silence around him, because that could lead him to thinking about his mother again. Yakov just quietly sat next to him in the premium economy class and read a russian book. When they arrived at the airport, it was almost lunchtime. Just as they were about to separate, Victor got a call from his mom's hospital. He immediately made a hand gesture to Yakov, who wanted to say goodbye to him, and answered the call. "Hello. How's my mom? I'm in town now, I'll be at the hospital in a few minutes." The line went quiet for a good few seconds, then he heard the familiar voice of the doctor murmur: "Uhm. This is tough for me as well..." The doctor cleared his throat. "You... Don't need to come here. We did everything we possibly could, but unfortunately, your lovely mother passed away this morning. We are very sorry... She had a peaceful death. She left us in her sleep." Victor's eyes went wide in shock. Yakov looked at him, curious for what happened. Victor tried to speak several times, then he finally managed to say: "I... Thank you for the information..." Victor hung up. Yakov looked concerned. "What happened? You look horrible, Victor." "Mom. She's... dead."

When Victor arrived at his home, he shut the door with a loud bang, dropped his luggage in the hallway and immediately went upstairs to his bedroom, where he broke down in tears on his bed. Makkachin tried to comfort him, but he couldn't be cheered up by anything. He can't say how long he laid there and cried over his mother, but when he ran out of tears, it was dark outside.

He dragged himself to the bathroom and turned the lights on. He took a look in the mirror. His eyes were red and swollen, his long hair was messy and full of knots, his legs felt like they would give in if he took one more step, his eyebags were huge and his skin looked even more pale than usual. "I look horrible", he thought, but he didn't actually care. He opened the cupboard and took out his hairbrush. He slowly started brushing his long, beautiful, silver mop. It reminded him of his mother. "Vitya, go out there and shine. I know they all love you, my little ice prince." He was almost done with the right side. "I may not be with you on the ice, but I am watching you here on the TV. I see you. And I am so proud of you, my son." He finished brushing, the knots were all gone, but he kept going. "I am always here for you, Vitya. You're not alone. I love you." All those words. She had said them to him while brushing his hair. While braiding it for him. One time, when he was younger, she even had colored him a few pink highlights for Halloween when he asked for it. Oh, how she loved his long hair. She had always paid attention to not cut it too short. "It protects you from looking like the others. It makes you stand out. Because you aren't just someone, Vitya. You are special. You are better than all of them, I know it." He stopped the brushing. He suddenly felt even weaker and had to lean on the sink. He put his brush back into the cupboard, when something else in there caught his eye. It was a pair of scissors.