Miracles | 𝔐𝔞𝔤𝔫𝔦𝔣𝔦𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔱 ℭ𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔶

part five

As the cart rolled into a small town just outside Kiev, a modest cluster of wooden houses came into view. The town, called Prydnistria, was quiet, with the distant sound of chatter and the occasional bark of a stray dog. The sky above was beginning to darken with the onset of dusk, casting an orange hue over the rooftops. Mila and Leo had been on the road for days now, and the fatigue was starting to set in. The thought of resting, even if only for a short while, was a welcome one.

"Тут ми зупинимось на трохи, так?" (We'll stop here for a bit, right?) Mila asked, turning to Leo.

He nodded, eyes scanning the town ahead. "We should find somewhere to rest and gather some supplies before heading to Kiev tomorrow."

Mila felt a bit of relief, knowing they were close to their destination, but as the cart came to a halt at the town's center, something felt off. A group of teenage boys loitered near the fountain, eyeing the cart with interest. Mila could sense trouble brewing.

As they climbed down from the cart, Mila kept her sketchbook clutched tightly to her chest. Her paints, brushes, and a few remaining canvases were stacked carefully inside the cart. It was all she had left to express her passion, and losing any of it would be devastating.

Leo went off to speak with a merchant about food, leaving Mila to watch over their belongings. The group of boys drifted closer, whispering amongst themselves. One of them, a lanky youth with a crooked grin, motioned toward the cart.

"Hey, what do you have in there?" he asked, his tone dripping with mockery.

Mila stiffened, her heart pounding in her chest. "It's none of your concern," she replied in Ukrainian, her voice firm. "Ідіть звідси!" (Go away!)

But they didn't listen. In a swift motion, two of the boys rushed forward, grabbing at the cart and tossing its contents onto the ground. Mila gasped as her canvases tumbled out, landing with a sickening tear.

"Ні! No, stop!" she shouted, lunging toward them.

The boys laughed, tearing the canvases apart, crushing them under their feet. Panic surged through Mila as she grabbed one of the remaining ones, trying to protect what she could. But it was too late. Everything was in chaos.

One of the boys reached for her sketchbook, but Mila reacted quickly, pulling it out of his reach and holding it tightly to her chest. "Stay away from me!" she yelled, pushing him back with all the strength she could muster.

He stumbled but regained his balance, glaring at her. "You think you're special with all these fancy paints, huh?" he sneered.

Mila's eyes filled with tears, but she refused to let them fall. This was her art, her passion—everything she had worked for. She wouldn't let them take it from her.

"Just leave her alone," Leo's voice boomed from behind them, returning from his errand. He stepped between Mila and the boys, his tall frame towering over them. "Go. Now."

Seeing the intensity in Leo's eyes, the boys hesitated for a moment before backing away, muttering curses under their breath. One of them spat on the ground before they all scattered, leaving behind the ruins of Mila's canvases.

Mila sank to her knees, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she surveyed the damage. The canvases were shredded, her paints spilled across the dirt. Her hands shook as she held onto her sketchbook, her only remaining treasure.

"Мої полотна..." (My canvases...) she whispered, her voice breaking.

Leo crouched beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Mila. We'll get you new ones in Kiev, I promise."

But Mila shook her head, the weight of loss heavy in her heart. "It's not just about the canvases, Leo. It's everything. This... this is all I have."

He looked at her, unsure of what to say. They both knew how important her art was to her. It wasn't just a hobby—it was her identity, her escape from the mundane life that had suffocated her in their small village. And now, part of that had been taken from her.

Mila wiped her eyes, determination hardening her expression. "They may have taken the canvases, but they can't take my skill. I'll keep drawing. I'll keep painting." She glanced down at the sketchbook, its pages still intact. "As long as I have this, I'll be fine."

Leo nodded. "We'll make sure you have everything you need when we get to Kiev. This... this is just a setback."

Mila gave a small, weak smile. "Yes... just a small obstacle..."

But deep down, she knew it was more than that. The journey ahead would be full of challenges, and this was only the beginning.

As they gathered what remained of her supplies and prepared to leave the town behind, Mila clutched her sketchbook even tighter, vowing to never let anyone take away her dream again.

*To anyone who knows/speaks Ukrainian I'd appreciate feedback on any vocab I used since I am not fluent in the language. Sorry if I miswrote anything.*