𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝟏𝟖+

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

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~ Born to die ~ Lana Del Rey ~

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𝐃 𝐄 𝐕 𝐀 𝐍 𝐀  𝐀 𝐋 𝐈 𝐘 𝐄 𝐕 𝐀

" She's Zloveschiy's heir"

No, I am not. No, I would not. 

But who will give me an ear, no one. My opinions are often overlooked, so why should I speak up? From behind the bars of my cage, I studied the ants as they crawled towards a tiny crumb of bread that had fallen on the rough concrete floor. I observed how they encircled the breadcrumb that lay there helplessly, resigned to its fate.

The ants decided its fate and it followed. How similar is my situation to this? Fifteen years of my life have been lived and gone according to the will and pleasure of my caretakers. Those wrinkled fellows are not my parents any way. I would prefer life at the convent boarding school, St. Olga Catholic School, a school established especially for orphaned girls and abandoned girls like me to go and be useful to the services of God.

Life was definitely not roses and candles because of my health condition. I was blessed by God with a rare ability to recall past events with great accuracy, this wasn't just about remembering dates or trivial facts, but about revisiting the past with a clarity that was almost cinematic in its detail. Along with this rare ability came a burden, a health issue that I had to bear - a heart condition. It was like carrying a ticking time bomb, never knowing when it would go off, constantly living in the shadow of unpredictability. 

It made me popular, yes, but it also made me an enemy. And the enemy was none other than myself. My own mind, with its relentless replay of past events, became my adversary. It was a constant struggle, a battle within myself, that added a layer of complexity to my already fucked up life.

The door creaked opened from above and a soldier climbed down. Dinner, yay! I peeled my eyes from the ground and stretched my thin arms out to the soup to grab it but the soldier surprised me by bending down to my level revealing an old face.

"Baba!" He shushed me instantly and looked up to see if someone else is with us.

"What are you doing here? Where's Fyo? How's he? Is he okay? They didn't hurt him did they? Answer me Baba!"

"Tikhiy! We don't have time to answer those questions rebenok, you are in danger!"

(Quiet, child)

Huh, danger? what's going on? He unlocked the cage and quietly dropped the padlock when opened. He reached out for me and I grabbed his hairy arms that always held me in a firm fatherly hug anytime I needed it. He pulled me out without an issue which would be because of my malnourished state. 

"Baba, how did you come in? and how would we go out?" I turned towards his stern face that held a furrowed expression that showed how deep he was thinking. He stood up on his feet with me in his arms, climbed the ladder slowly and reached the top. 

When the line of my sight reached the top floor, I saw red. A vivid, chilling red liquid was pooling around the old, squeaky board that would groan under the weight of each footstep. The sight was an eerie echo of times past, of soldiers who once patrolled these spaces, their footsteps the only sound in the oppressive silence. Those same soldiers, who had been my jailers, my constant companions in captivity, were now sprawled out on the floor, their bodies cold and lifeless. 

I looked over from the hideous sight to the man handling me. His face was impassive, his eyes indifferent to my horrified gaze. With a gentleness that belied the grim surroundings, he carefully placed me on the floor, the cold seeping in through my thin clothes. Then, with a finality that hung heavy in the air, he shifted me further away from the blood-soaked door, his actions methodical and deliberate. 

He climbed out of the room that I had come to consider home. It was a dark, twisted version of home, but home nonetheless. I had spent six long, grueling years of my life within its confining walls. And now, I was free and left to grapple with the chilling memory and the gruesome evidence of the soldiers' fate.

We made it out of the cage and out to the main basement. He lead me to a broken, web and dust coated, old vent and I didn't hesitate to get in. I knew where he was leading me but I did not know the reason why he was leading me there. I crawled in and continued crawling but looked back to see if he was behind me.

"I am always behind you rebenok. Now keep moving on" Those words reassured me, comforted me gave me hope that I am not alone in the world. Yet.

After a series of low grunts, we made it out of the vent and into my grandmother's garden. I have never met her but she had never liked me even on her deathbed, not that I needed her love to breathe. The leaves crunched beneath our feet as we walked down the unfertile garden. Night fell and the clouds covered the light of the sky with its thick hue. I walked closer to Baba and clutched his arms tightly, ravens cawing and dead trees rustling.

He put his hand on mine and shined down a smile that warmed me to my depths. But the smile wasn't the only warm thing I felt that night. Suddenly, his eyes twitched, something's wrong. He dragged me by my hand and began running, so fast the wind guided us through the wind. The leaves and trees crunched and rustled behind us as we ran down the garden. Years have past turning it into a forest.

As I was running I felt a familiar clench in my chest that pulled me to my knees. Baba pleaded with me to keep running but I couldn't, I just couldn't do it. I tried pushing up on my feet but the pain made me drop on the dead leaves. I felt warm tear drops on my cheeks and a desperate plead.

"Keep moving rebenok, please my dear, please child, keep moving"

I'm sorry Baba, I can't.

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Author's Note

You and I, we were born to die...

Rushed it.

Please vote and comment sweetheart ♥︎

~ Dark Euphorism