Needle and Thread

VII. Mr. Bobinsky

Before traveling to America to fulfill his dreams of becoming a ringmaster for his own circus of mice, Sergei Alexander Bobinsky had grew up in Russia and have been part of a human circus himself. While climbing high, swinging, and balancing for all to watch as everyone applauded at his performances. It felt more for an outlet to escape reality as it was. For at times it can dark and cruel, though they rays of sunlight that seeps through at times for people wanting to be exposed by it. Mr. Bobinsky had had some times in his life joining the circus. At a young age, he had worked to provide for his family. He became of shoe maker, but quit and moved to perform which he made more money that making shoes by hand. Not only it helped finically and mentally as well to keep from falling down far from darkness. His mother was doing well herself but until her son had to be shipped off into war. 

But thankfully it wasn't long until it was over as Bobinsky was honored with a medal of his courage and determination kept him and alive. The only changed about him was of his  ash his skin changed to pale blue from radiation like the sky during a bright an warm sunny day.  As he returned home, there many people outside his home.

"What's going on?" he calls out as a few turned their heads while others stared ahead from the entrance.

"It's your mother she's-" One man started but Bobinsky didn't want to hear the rest. He wanted to see for himself as he pushes people aside to get through the house and find his mother. She was there, lying peaceful knotting looking like she was resting as she often did, but the colors from her body were drained away from life. Her eyes closed. shielding them from being exposed. Bobinsky shook her slightly for her to wake up. His mother's didn't flutter from disturbance from being awoken for she remained still and unmoving. 

"I'm sorry, When I came to visit she was lifeless." A neighbor sobbed, her faced buried in her husband's coat. Everyone was surrounding the Bobinsky's, half mourning for the loss of the mother. Her son wept, his whiskers brushing against his mother's soft hand. Muttering apologizes for leaving her alone to fight for the war. Regret creating a hole inside that was sucking in the happiness from his soul. 

"Your mother was a great woman. She died from a stroke. She wanted you to be happy." The doctor had told him while at the hospital. 

So Bobinsky had moved from his home country to America to pursue his dreams as a ringleader of his very own circus. Of Jumping Mice! The Pink Palace upstairs in the attic felt like a fresh start. A new beginning to begin a new. The reason for Bobinsky to live upstairs for the jumping mice were scared of staying in the house, saying there was dark presence living inside. Especially with the small door was sealed with wall paper. For the record jumping mice can't speak like we can. For Bobinsky had spent lots of time training them, he was able to understand their squeaking. If they didn't want stay the main house, then so be it if that meant of he can still train them to perform for those who wanted to be entertained.