Tiny white specs descended from the heavens, gathering in large piles covering everything as far as the eye could see. It was quiet, the only sounds were the howling wind and the crunching of snow as large heavy boots dented the white. Three pairs of those boots, all varying in size stomped against the snow.
"Мама (Mum)," a gentle voice said in a break of wind. A tall woman looked down at her side and was met with big icy eyes. "Куда мы идем? (Where are we going?)"
The woman didn't speak, she just gripped the small hand in her palm tighter. The wind picked up, blowing her chestnut hair over her face. She did not move it though, for it provided additional warmth which was necessary in the quickly increasing snowfall.
"Мама? Ты меня не слышал? Куда мы идем? (Mum? Did you not hear me? Where are we going?)" the child asked again. Her mother didn't look at her this time, but her grip tightened more. The little girl continued to pester. "Мама! Мумия? Куда мы идем? Почему ты выглядишь таким грустным? Папа, почему мама такая грустная? (Mum! Mummy? Where are we going? Why do you look so sad? Daddy, why does mum look so sad?)"
The man in front of them halted to a stop, spinning around. The woman stopped too and with just three strides, the man was in front of them both. He knelt down and harshly took the girl's shoulder in his hands.
"Хватит, Алексей! Больше нет вопросов! (Enough, Alex! No more questions!)" he yelled at a deafening volume, or what would have been deafening if not for the pained howls in the air. Alex flinched, her hand falling out of her mother's grasp, startled. Her father never raised his voice so high. He was always so gentle with his daughter, treating her as if she were some delicate flower that would wilt with the slightest harsh tone.
Her mother fell to her knees, hugging her child tightly from behind. When their hands separated she panicked, and now she was muttering "Еще нет! Еще нет! (Not yet! Not yet!)" as she clung to the one-way hug for dear life.
"M-Maмa? (M-Mum?)"
Alex tried to turn her head to see her mother, but she was just squeezed tighter to the point she could not move anymore. Her father let go of her with a sigh, basically being forced off the girl by the hysterical woman.
He said to the woman, "Подобрать ее. Мы должны идти, дорогая. (Pick her up. We have to go, dear.)"
Reluctantly, she obeyed his polite order. She lifted the girl into her arms and pressed her snugly to her breast, afraid if the child was even a centimetre too far she would be lost. Alex remained quiet, still shaking from her father's shouting. She clung tightly to her mother and buried her face in the woman's coat, her curiosity subsiding and being lost to the wind.
.
Their walk was long and tiring, but the family of three finally arrived at their destination.
It was a tall grey building, surrounded by wire fences with barbed wire curled around the top of the fences. It was eery and suspicious, not a place an innocent child should be at. There were watch towers, their keepers watching every move the family made as they entered the facility. They made their way to a massive metal door guarded by men in army uniforms, muskets slung over their shoulders and bullet canisters strapped to the sashes on their chests.
The family stopped in front of the door, the father walking up to one of the guards. Alex peered out from her mother's chest, and her eyes widened, horrified by the site of the armed men. Her breath caught in her throat as she made eye contact with one of the men, and she pulled hard on her mother's coat. The woman took her cheek in one hand and moved Alex to face her. She put their foreheads together, mumbling "Все в порядке (It's okay)" and "Я тебя люблю (I love you)."
