Before the Sun

Chapter Twenty Four- Russia

Nikolai

Russia, 2014

My fingertips feel glued to the door knob, frozen in place by the fear of what lies behind. I think if I hold the cup of water any tighter the flimsy glass will shatter into my palm. I'm also sure my mom can hear my anxiousness outside her room. She can feel my hesitance and trepidation. She can feel it as much as I do. I hear her shift beneath the blankets. I hear she is alive and it gives me the courage to open the door. I find her sunken eyes through the ruffled blankets, dark circles winding around her light orbs. I smile, showing my teeth and the apples of my cheeks. I see a faint one on moms too. I know it is as forced and fake as my own.

"Good morning my Little Deer."

She says in her groggy voice, an unusual gravel in her tone. I round her bed, taking a seat by her frame. She takes the water from my cold hands, sitting upright. A lock of dark hair falls out of place and before her eyes. It's knotted and dry, almost dead. Gently, I take her hand and place two pills in her palm. She begrudgingly takes them with a small sip of water.

"I'm going to go to the doctors and renew your prescription today."

I say, voice soft. She groans and shakes her head.

"No, I don't want to take anymore. After these I am done."

She declares, nose scrunching up- as if physically repulsed by the antidepressants. I remain quiet, standing from her side, teeth gnawing on the flesh of my cheek. The room is floating in a stale smell, heavy with a stillness. I know she will hate it but I open the curtains, cracking open the window along with it. A breeze of bitter air filters into the room, ice caught within the wind. I watch the streets from our apartment. A layer of dirty snow blankets the pavement, puddles of melted ice growing in the centre of the road. Thick, grey clouds hang in the sky with no promise of leaving. The sight fills me with a horrible emptiness.

"You have to. The doctor said it'll talk a couple weeks for them to begin working."
I mutter, eyes still caught on the world before me.

"I'm going to stop by that restaurant on the high street as well, see if they have any jobs going."

I talk aimlessly, not sure if she is even listening. I don't tell her if I don't find a job today Danny, our landlord, won't let us stay another week. I don't tell her I haven't eaten since Wednesday and I don't tell her we are completely and utterly drowning. She doesn't need to know, or more so- she can't know.

When she doesn't respond I turn to face her. She's looking at me with this disgustingly guilty look on her face. My eyebrows pinch together and I'm at her bedside in two steps. My hands find hers instantly. My eyes ask her what is wrong.

"This isn't right, Niki. You shouldn't be doing this."

She says with a wobble in her voice. I smile gently, holding her fingers tighter.

"You're sick, Mom. You need to get better."

She shakes her head, her eyes becoming glossy with tears.

"No, no you're meant to be somewhere better than here my love. You're meant for more than this, than me."

A lump grows in my throat. All I can manage is a disapproving shake of my head. She is wrong. I am not meant for something big. I am meant for my mom. To be here with her. To help her.

"I'll make you some food when I am back, alright?"

I try my best to steer the conversation away from where her thoughts are heading. She doesn't respond.

"Maybe we'll go for a walk, too. The doctor said fresh air will be good for you."

I try again, smiling. Truthfully, her frame is too weak and hollow. I fear the wind would take her with it and the cold would puncture her lungs. When her silence continues, I kiss her head, pull the blankets up further and leave the room. That lump in my throat lingers the entire long walk to the doctors.